“Damn it,” he said, “always too many things to do at once.” He was scowling at me. “Mr. Naylor said he never told you that. He insisted that you lied. Now this woman does the same.” I nodded. “Yeah. I’m building up a hell of a reputation. You didn’t believe Naylor. This time you can believe her if you want to even up.” “I hope you realize what you’re doing— what might happen to her.” I nodded again. “We’re keeping an eye on her.” “All right.” He picked up one of his phones. “Keep me informed. Let me know if she agrees to go to see Wolfe.” I said I would and left. On the way out of the reception room I used a phone booth to tell Wolfe that we were now getting words and gestures from the executive level.
The remainder of the morning I played solitaire, without any deck. I stayed glued to my chair, facing my open door, and not a soul entered to pass the time of day. It was monotonous and extremely unsatisfactory. Hester kept her door closed. She emerged once, at ten-fifteen, for a trip to Rosenbaum’s room, where she remained over an hour, presumably for the morning dictation. The only other time I saw her was at one o’clock, her lunch hour, when she showed with her hat and coat on. I descended in the same elevator, with no exchange of greetings, saw Bill Gore pick her up in the lobby, and went myself to a joint down the street and consumed sandwiches and milk.
Back again in my room, deciding that I had been lonely long enough, I called the reserve pool and said I wanted a stenographer and only Miss Ferris would do. By that time I had them trained, and in no time at all Gwynne entered with her notebook in her hand. I moved a chair so she would be facing me, with her back to the open door, without obstructing my view of the arena.
“This is the first time I’ve taken from you,” she said, sitting. “You’d better go a little slow.” “Sure,” I agreed, “we’ve got all afternoon. Take a letter to the Police Commissioner. P-O-L-I-C-E-C-O-M-” “You think you’re smart, don’t you?” “You bet I’m smart. Dear Mr. Commissioner. I wish to make a complaint. The most beautiful girl on earth has betrayed my confidence. She said she wouldn’t tell and she did. She told a hundred people in a hundred minutes. Her name is Gwynne Ferris and she—” “I won’t write that! That isn’t so!” “Don’t talk so loud, the door’s open.” I grinned at her charmingly. “I know, Gwynne darling, you only told five or six and they promised not to breathe a word. Remember the first day I was here, how helpful you were?” I reached and got her notebook, tore out the page she had used for me, and handed her the book closed. “Forget it. All I wanted was to look at you. But we’d better talk to keep up appearances, people are looking at us. Is there any news?” “There certainly is.” She put one knee over the other and performed the skirt rite. “They’re fighting like cats and dogs about who’s lying, you or Hester.” “I hope I’m winning.” “Oh, yes, I’m sure you are, but some of them seem to like her, the dopes. That little fool Ann Murphy—do you know her?” “Not intimately.” “She says she’s going to put a complaint in the complaint box that you’re putting Hester in peril! What do you know about that? And oh, yes—my God, I should have told you—Mr. Pine, the president—he had his secretary phone Hester to come to see him, and she said she wouldn’t go, and then Mr. Pine phoned her himself and she still said she wouldn’t go! What do you know about that? Telling the president she wouldn’t go to his office when he told her to! Isn’t that just like her? I hope to God she gets fired.” “Don’t talk so loud. Where do you get all this? How do you know she wouldn’t go?
I don’t believe it.” “You don’t believe it?” “No.” “All right, then don’t. The girls at the switchboard ought to know, I would imagine. I ate lunch with one of them. Of course they’re not supposed to listen in, but you know how it is, they have to see if they’re through talking, don’t they? You don’t believe it?” “Maybe I do. I’ll let you know.” I reached to pat her on the knee, a knee that was fully worthy of being patted. “You’re my favorite broadcaster, sweetheart.
When did all this happen, this phoning and refusing?” “This morning, before lunch, I don’t know exactly what time. I think it shows she has guilty knowledge, don’t you?” “Well, at least knowledge. Any other news?” “Lord yes, I should say so. Mr. Hoff didn’t answer his mail all day yesterday, just let it lay there, he probably didn’t even read it, and old man Birch, you know, the correspondence checker with the wart on his nose—” She stopped because I suddenly stood up. “Excuse me?” I apologized, “I forgot something, I have to make a phone call. I forgot all about it.” “I’ll wait here.” I told her not to bother, I was through with dictation for the day, went out and down the aisle to the phone booths, and dialed Wolfe’s number. Fritz answered and switched me to Wolfe.
“You said,” I told him, “that you wanted them as they left the griddle. You may consider this garbage, but it’s the first one for hours and I was afraid you might starve. This morning Pine had his secretary phone Miss Livsey to come to see him—to see Pine—and she refused. Then Pine phoned her himself to come to his office to see him, and still she refused. That’s all. Apparently she’s upset and is not accepting invitations, no matter who. What seems strange, she says she has to have a job, and she likes it here, or she did.” “Have you seen her? Talked with her?” “No. If I had you would have heard of it.” Silence. It kept on being silence, through a minute and a second and a third, until I asked: “Hello, you there?” “Yes. How did you learn this?” “One of my girl friends, Gwynne Ferris, who got it from a girl on the switchboard. It wouldn’t be invented. I’d pay for it myself.” “Where are you phoning from?” “A booth.” “Good. Here are your instructions.” He gave them to me. It wasn’t hard to see what was in his mind, and since the three or four lies I would have to tell wouldn’t make it any riskier than it already was, I offered no objections. It was fairly complicated, with several contingencies involved, and I had him repeat it to be sure I had it straight.
Leaving the booth, thinking I might as well have one of the contingencies provided for, I went first to my room for my hat and coat, and then crossed the arena to Hester’s room. Her door was closed. I went in, shut the door behind me, sat on a chair, and kept my hat and coat on my lap.
Hester stopped banging the typewriter and looked at me. She was not the same woman I had met there two weeks previously. Then she had been a thousand miles away. Now she was right there with me, all of her. I meant something to her, I did indeed, and she was searching my face to see what it was I meant, coming to her. She didn’t ask what I wanted. She didn’t ask anything.
“I’m in a difficult position,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “There are people that want to know who’s lying, you or me. That’s all right, I have no kick coming on that, but they have a nerve to ask me to act as a messenger boy.
However—” I shrugged. “I understand Mr. Pine, the president of the company, sent for you this morning and you refused to go to see him.” She didn’t move a muscle.
“That’s correct, isn’t it?” I inquired.
She spoke. “Yes. I—yes.” “Will you go to see him now? With me or without me?” She didn’t hesitate. “No.” I frowned at her. “One thing I’m not completely satisfied about. Has anyone tried to put any pressure on you? Since you refused to go to see Pine?” “No.” “Then they gave me that straight. Okay. Their position is this, and you must admit they’ve got a point. I have told them that you told me that you know who killed Waldo Moore. They have been informed that you deny you told me that. They have had a talk with me, and they want to have a talk with you. That seems reasonable. I don’t see how you can escape it. If you prefer not to talk with Pine, it can be someone else. When I say ‘they,’ I don’t mean they want to gang up on you. Just one of them—any of the three vice-presidents will do. Will you go to see one of the vice-presidents?” I suppose she was blinking now and then, since it is supposed to be impossible not to, but I could have sworn she wasn’t.