Wolfe said, “Nonsense. When have my expectations of you ventured beyond your capacity?”
“Never. How could they? But, for instance, if it’s so important for me to see Mike Walsh it might be a good idea for me to know why, unless you want him wrapped up and brought here.”
Wolfe shook his head. “Not that, I think. I’ll inform you, Archie. In good time.” He reached out and touched the button, then sighed and pushed the tray away. “As for my sending Johnny and letting you sit here, you may be needed. While you were out Mr. Muir telephoned to ask if he might call here at half past two. It is that now-”
“The devil he did. Muir?”
“Yes. Mr. Ramsey Muir. And as for my keeping you in ignorance of facts, you already interfere so persistently with my mental processes that I am disinclined to furnish you further grounds for speculation. In the present case you know the general situation as well as I do. Chiefly you lack patience, and my exercise of it infuriates you. If I know who killed Harlan Scovil since talking with Mr. Lindquist over long distance I think I do- why do I not act at once? Firstly because I require confirmation, and secondly because our primary interest in this case is not the solution of a murder but the collection of a debt. If I expect to get the confirmation I require from Mr. Walsh, why do I not get him at once, secure my confirmation, and let the police have him? Because the course they would probably take, after beating his story out of him, would make it difficult to collect from Lord Clivers, and would greatly complicate the matter of clearing Miss Fox of the larceny charge. We have three separate goals to reach, and since it will be necessary to arrive at all of them simultaneously-but there is the doorbell. Mr. Muir is three minutes late.”
I went to the hall and took a look through the panel. Sure enough, it was Muir. I opened up and let him in. From the way he stepped over the door sill and snapped out that he wanted to see Wolfe, it was fairly plain that he was mad as hell. He had on a brown plaid topcoat cut by a tailor that was out of my class, but twenty-five years too young for him, and apparently he wasn’t taking it off. I motioned him ahead of me into the office and introduced him, and allowed myself a polite grin when I saw that he wasn’t shaking hands any more than Wolfe was. I pushed a chair around and he sat with his hat on his knees.
Wolfe said, “Your secretary, on the telephone, seemed not to know what you wished to see me about. My surmise was, your charge against Miss Clara Fox. You understand of course that I am representing Miss Fox.”
“Yes. I understand that.”
“Well, sir?”
The bones of Muir’s face seemed to show, and his ears seemed to point forward, more than they had the day before. He kept his lips pressed together and his jaw was working from side to side as if all this emotion in his old age was nearly too much for him. I remembered how he had looked at Clara Fox the day before and thought it was remarkable that he could keep his digestion going with all the stew there must have been inside of him.
He said, “I have come here at the insistence of Mr. Perry.” His voice trembled a little, and when he stopped his jaw slid around. “I want you to understand that I know she took that money. She is the only one who could have taken it. It was found in her car.” He stopped a little to control his jaw. “Mr. Perry told me of your threat to sue for damages. The insinuation in it is contemptible. What kind of a blackguard are you, to protect a thief by hinting calumnies against men who… men above suspicion?”
He paused and compressed his lips. Wolfe murmured, “Well, go on. I don’t answer questions containing two or more unsupported assumptions.”
I don’t think Muir heard him; he was only hearing himself and trying not to blow up. He said, “I’m here only for one reason, for the sake of the Seaboard Products Corporation. And not on account of your dirty threat either. That’s not where the dirt is in the Seaboard Products Corporation that has got to be concealed.” His voice trembled again- “It’s the fact that the president of the corporation has to satisfy his personal sensual appetite by saving a common thief from what she deserves! That’s why she can laugh at me! That’s why she can stand behind your dirty threats! Because she knows what Perry wants, and she knows how-”
“Mr. Muir!” Wolfe snapped at him. “I wouldn’t talk like that if I were you. It’s so futile. Surely you didn’t come here to persuade me that Mr. Perry has a sensual appetite.”
Muir made a movement and his hat rolled from his knees to the floor, but he paid no attention to it. His movement was for the purpose of getting his hand into his inside breast pocket, from which he withdrew a square manila envelope. He looked in it and fingered around and took out a small photograph, glanced at it, and handed it to Wolfe. “There,” he said, “look at that.”
Wolfe did so, and passed it to me. It was a snapshot of Clara Fox and Anthony D. Perry seated in a convertible coupe with the top down. I laid it on the edge of the desk and Muir picked it up and returned it to the envelope. His jaw was moving. He said, “I have more than thirty of them. A dectective took them for me. Perry doesn’t know I have them. I want to make it clear to you that she deserves -.. that she has a hold on him…”
Wolfe put up a hand. “I’m afraid I must interrupt you again, Mr. Muir. I don’t like photographs of automobiles. You say that Mr. Perry insisted on your coming here. I’ll have to insist on your telling me what for.”
“But you understand-”
“No. I won’t listen. I understand enough. Perhaps I had better put a question or two. Is it true that you have recovered all of the missing money?”
Muir glared at him. “You know we have. It was found under the back seat of her car.”
“But if that was her car in the photograph, it has no back seat.”
“She bought a new one in August. The photograph was taken in July. I suppose Perry bought it. Her salary is higher than any other woman in our organization.”
“Splendid. But about the money. If you have it back, why are you determined to prosecute?”
“Why shouldn’t we prosecute? Because she’s guilty! She took it from my desk, knowing that Perry would protect her! With her body, with her Qesh, with her surrender-”
“No, Mr. Muir.” Wolfe’s hand was up again. “Please. I put the question wrong, I shouldn’t have asked why. I want to know, are you determined to prosecute?”
Muir clamped his lips. He opened them, and clamped them again. At last he spoke, “We were. I was.”
“Was? Are you still?”
No reply. “Are you still, Mr. Muir?”
“I… no.”
“Indeed.” Wolfe’s eyes narrowed. “You are prepared to withdraw the charge?”
“Yes… under certain circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
“I want to see her.” Muir stopped because his voice was trembling again. “I have promised Perry that I will withdraw the charge provided I can see her, alone, and tell her myself.” He sat up and his jaw tightened. “That… those are the circumstances.”
Wolfe looked at him a moment and then leaned back. He sighed. “I think possibly that can be arranged. But you must first sign a statement exonerating her.”
“Before I see her?”
“Yes.”
“No. I see her first.” Muir’s lips worked. “I must see her and tell her myself. If I had already signed a statement, she wouldn’t… no. I won’t do that.”
“But you can’t see her first.” Wolfe sounded patient. “There is a warrant in force against her, sworn to by you. I do not suspect you of treachery, I merely protect my client. You say that you have promised Mr. Perry that you will withdraw the charge. Do so. Mr. Goodwin will type the statement, you will sign it, and I will arrange a meeting with Miss Fox later in the day.”
Muir was shaking his head. He muttered, “No. No… I won’t.” All at once he broke loose worse than he had in Perry’s office the day before. He jumped up and banged his hand on the desk and leaned over at Wolfe. “I tell you I must see her! You damn blackguard, you’ve got her here! What for? What do you get out of it? What do you and Perry…”