it, Slim.”
I went to the hall with him, and saw him out the front door, and shut it after him and slid the bolt. Before I returned to the office I stopped at the kitchen and told Fritz that I’d answer any doorbells that might ring for the rest of the evening.
I crossed to Wolfe’s desk and grinned at him. “Ha ha. The damn police were here.”
Wolfe looked at the clock, which said ten minutes past seven. He reached out and pushed the button, and when Fritz came, leaned back and sighed.
“Fritz.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A calamity. We cannot possibly dine at eight as usual. Not dine, that is. We can eat, and I suppose we shall have to. You have filets of beef with sauce Abano.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wolfe sighed again. “You will have to serve it in morsels, for five persons. By adding some of the fresh stock you can have plenty of soup. Open Hungarian
petits poissons
. You have plenty of fruit? Fill in as you can. It is distressing, but there’s no help for it.”
“The sauce is a great success, sir. I could give the others canned chicken and mushrooms—”
“Confound it, no! If there are to be hardships, I must share them. That’s all. Bring me some beer.”
Fritz went, and Wolfe turned to me: “Bring Clara Fox.”
I unlocked the door to the front room. Fritz hadn’t turned on all the lights, and it was dim. The two women were side byside on the divan, and Mike Walsh was in a chair, blinking at me as if he had been asleep.
I said, “Mr. Wolfe would like to speak to Miss Fox.”
Mike Walsh said, “I’m hungry.”
Clara Fox said, “To all of us.”
“First just you. Please. —There’ll be some grub pretty soon, Mr. Walsh. If you’ll wait in here.”
Clara Fox hesitated, then got up and preceded me. I shut the door, and she went back to her chair in front of Wolfe, the one the dick had sat in. Wolfe had emptied a glass and was filling it up again.
“Will you have some beer, Miss Fox?”
She shook her head. “Thank you. But I don’t like to discuss this with you alone, Mr. Wolfe. The others are just as much—”
“To be sure. Permit me.” He wiggled a finger at her. “They shall join us presently. The fact is, I wish to touch on something else for a moment. Did you take that money from Mr. Muir’s desk?”
She looked at him steadily. “We shouldn’t let things get confused. Are you acting now as the agent of the Seaboard Products Corporation?”
“I’m asking you a question. You came here to consult me because you thought I had abilities. I have; I’m using them. Either answer my question or find abilities elsewhere. Did you take that money?”
“No.”
“Do you know who took it?”
“No.”
“Do you know anything about it?”
“No. I have certain suspicions, but nothing specific about the money itself.”
“Do you mean suspicions on account of the attitude of Mr. Perry and Mr. Muir toward you personally?”
“Yes. Chiefly Mr. Muir.”
“Good. Now this: Did you kill anyone this evening between five and six o’clock?”
She stared at him. “Don’t be an idiot.”
He drank some beer, wiped his lips, and leaned back in his chair. “Miss Fox. The avoidance of idiocy should be the primary and constant concern of every intelligent person. It is mine. I am sometimes successful. Take, for instance, your statement that you did not steal that money. Do I believe it? As a philosopher, I believe nothing. As a detective, I believe it enough to leave it behind me, but am prepared to glance back over my shoulder. As a man, I believe it utterly. I assure you,my reason for the questions I am asking is not idiotic. For one thing, I am observing your face as you reply to them. Bear with me; we shall be getting somewhere, I think. Did you kill anyone this evening between five and six o’clock?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Walsh or Miss Lindquist do so?”
“Kill anyone?”
“Yes.”
She smiled at him. “As a philosopher, I don’t know. I’m not a detective. As a woman,
I went to the hall with him, and saw him out the front door, and shut it after him and slid the bolt. Before I returned to the office I stopped at the kitchen and told Fritz that I’d answer any doorbells that might ring for the rest of the evening.
I crossed to Wolfe’s desk and grinned at him. “Ha ha. The damn police were here.”
Wolfe looked at the clock, which said ten minutes past seven. He reached out and pushed the button, and when Fritz came, leaned back and sighed.
“Fritz.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A calamity. We cannot possibly dine at eight as usual. Not dine, that is. We can eat, and I suppose we shall have to. You have filets of beef with sauce Abano.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wolfe sighed again. “You will have to serve it in morsels, for five persons. By adding some of the fresh stock you can have plenty of soup. Open Hungarian
petits poissons
. You have plenty of fruit? Fill in as you can. It is distressing, but there’s no help for it.”
“The sauce is a great success, sir. I could give the others canned chicken and mushrooms—”
“Confound it, no! If there are to be hardships, I must share them. That’s all. Bring me some beer.”
Fritz went, and Wolfe turned to me: “Bring Clara Fox.”
I unlocked the door to the front room. Fritz hadn’t turned on all the lights, and it was dim. The two women were side byside on the divan, and Mike Walsh was in a chair, blinking at me as if he had been asleep.
I said, “Mr. Wolfe would like to speak to Miss Fox.”
Mike Walsh said, “I’m hungry.”
Clara Fox said, “To all of us.”
“First just you. Please. —There’ll be some grub pretty soon, Mr. Walsh. If you’ll wait in here.”
Clara Fox hesitated, then got up and preceded me. I shut the door, and she went back to her chair in front of Wolfe, the one the dick had sat in. Wolfe had emptied a glass and was filling it up again.
“Will you have some beer, Miss Fox?”
She shook her head. “Thank you. But I don’t like to discuss this with you alone, Mr. Wolfe. The others are just as much—”
“To be sure. Permit me.” He wiggled a finger at her. “They shall join us presently. The fact is, I wish to touch on something else for a moment. Did you take that money from Mr. Muir’s desk?”
She looked at him steadily. “We shouldn’t let things get confused. Are you acting now as the agent of the Seaboard Products Corporation?”
“I’m asking you a question. You came here to consult me because you thought I had abilities. I have; I’m using them. Either answer my question or find abilities elsewhere. Did you take that money?”
“No.”
“Do you know who took it?”
“No.”
“Do you know anything about it?”
“No. I have certain suspicions, but nothing specific about the money itself.”
“Do you mean suspicions on account of the attitude of Mr. Perry and Mr. Muir toward you personally?”
“Yes. Chiefly Mr. Muir.”
“Good. Now this: Did you kill anyone this evening between five and six o’clock?”
She stared at him. “Don’t be an idiot.”
He drank some beer, wiped his lips, and leaned back in his chair. “Miss Fox. The avoidance of idiocy should be the primary and constant concern of every intelligent person. It is mine. I am sometimes successful. Take, for instance, your statement that you did not steal that money. Do I believe it? As a philosopher, I believe nothing. As a detective, I believe it enough to leave it behind me, but am prepared to glance back over my shoulder. As a man, I believe it utterly. I assure you,my reason for the questions I am asking is not idiotic. For one thing, I am observing your face as you reply to them. Bear with me; we shall be getting somewhere, I think. Did you kill anyone this evening between five and six o’clock?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Walsh or Miss Lindquist do so?”
“Kill anyone?”
“Yes.”
She smiled at him. “As a philosopher, I don’t know. I’m not a detective. As a woman,
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