“But it’s rather fantastic, since it was at my request that you were here. Even a caprice must spring from something.”
“Not necessarily, sir.” Wolfe was patient. “A whim, a fancy, a freakish dart of the mind.”
The Ambassador persisted: “I apologize for dwelling on this, but I would like to avoid any chance of embarrassment. Mr. Colvin made rather a point of it, probably in his eagerness to get at you, and it would be most unfortunate if it got into the public reports. In a cause cétèbre, and this will certainly be one, any unexplained fact gives rise to all kinds of wild rumors, and in this instance they will concern me, only because it was the trout I caught that you didn’t cook! It’s true that that has no conceivable connection with the murder of Mr. Leeson, but the gossips will do their best to invent one, and the position of an ambassador is extremely delicate and sensitive, particularly mine at this moment. You know that, of course.”
Wolfe nodded. “I do.”
“Then you realize the difficulty. If you refuse to furnish any explanation, or if you only call it the caprice of an eccentric, what will be thought?”
“Yes.” Wolfe pursed his lips. “I see your point.” He heaved a sigh. “Very well. It’s not too hard a nut. I can say that my sense of humor is somewhat unorthodox, as indeed it is, and that it amuses me to twist the tails of highly placed persons; that since you had said you wanted to catch a trout and have it cooked by me, and I had traveled here for that express purpose, I thought it would be a nice touch of mockery not to cook any you had caught; and that with me to think is to act. Will that do?”
“Excellently. You will say that?”
“At the moment I see no objection to it. Some unforeseen contingency might of course provide one, so I can’t make it a commitment.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He was unquestionably a diplomat. “And I must thank you again. There was another little matter — but am I imposing on you?”
“Not at all. Like the others, I am merely waiting for the arrival of the attorney general.”
“Then I’ll mention it briefly. Mr. Ferris has told me of his conversation with Mr. Bragan in your presence. He told me of it, he said, because my name came into it and it concerned my mission to this country. I told him that I deeply appreciated his telling me, and I also expressed a hope that he would abandon his intention of repeating it to the attorney general. He finally agreed with me that his intention was ill-advised — that it would be prejudicial to the negotiations in which we are both interested. He regretted the hot impulse that led him to come to you and, finding Mr. Bragan here, to proceed as he did. It is not an exaggeration to say that he is in some despair, because he thinks he has compromised himself by speaking to Mr. Bragan before witnesses, and he thinks it would be futile to come now and ask you and Mr. Goodwin to erase the episode from your memories. I told him it is never futile to ask honorable men to do an honorable thing, and that I would ask you myself. I do so. Believe me, it will serve no useful purpose for Mr. Ferris’s outburst to Mr. Bragan to be repeated to anyone anywhere.”
Wolfe grunted. “I do believe you. On this the commitment can be as firm as you like.” He turned. “Archie?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We remember nothing of what Mr. Ferris said to Mr. Bragan this afternoon, and no provocation by anyone will refresh our memory. You agree to that?”
“Yes, sir. On my word of honor.”
He turned. “And mine, sir. Is that adequate?”
“It is, indeed.” Kelefy said it as if he meant it. “Mr. Ferris will be delighted. As for me, I cannot properly express my appreciation, but I hope you will permit me to proffer a slight token of it.” He lifted his left hand and began working at the ring with the emerald. It was a little stubborn, but after some twisting and tugging he got it off.
“I think, my dear,” he said, turning to his wife, “it would be fitting for you to present this to Mr. Wolfe. You wanted to come with me to thank him, and this is the symbol of our gratitude. Please beg him to accept it.”
She seemed to hesitate a second, and I wondered if she had cottoned to my suggestion of an earring and hated to give it up. Then she took it without looking at it and extended her hand to Wolfe. “I do beg you to accept it,” she said, in so low a voice that I barely caught it. “As a symbol of our gratitude.”
Wolfe didn’t hesitate. He took it, looked at it, and closed his fingers over it. I expected him to come out with something really flowery, but he surprised me again. “This is quite unnecessary, madam,” he told her. He turned. “Quite unnecessary, sir.”
Kelefy was on his feet. He smiled. “If it were necessary it wouldn’t be so great a pleasure. I must go and see Mr. Ferris. Thank you again, Mr. Wolfe... Come, my dear.”
I went and opened the door for them. They passed through, with friendly glances for me but no emeralds, and I shut the door and crossed to Wolfe. He was admiring the emerald. I admired it, too. It was the size of a hazel nut.
“My word of honor may not be as good as yours,” I said, “but it has some value. You wear it Monday to Friday, and I’ll wear it Saturday and Sunday.”
He grunted. “You brought your working case in, didn’t you?”
“Yes. My gun’s in it.”
“I want the best glass, please.”
I went to my room, got the glass, and returned. With it he gave the emerald a real look and then handed them to me. That seemed to imply that I had an equity, so, with the glass, I inspected the symbol of gratitude from all sides.
“I’m not an expert,” I said, returning it to him, “and it may be that that little brown speck near the center adds to its rarity; but if I were you I’d give it back to
No comment. I went to my room to return the glass to my working case. If I was going to try to sell him on Bragan’s offer I’d have to step on it, for time was closing in. I had my opening gun ready to fire as I re-entered his room, but after a couple of steps toward him I stopped dead. He was leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed, and his lips were working. He pushed them out, pulled them back in... push... pull...
I stood and stared at him. He only did that when his brain was going full tilt, with all the wheels whirling. What now? What about? I couldn’t suspect him of faking, because that was the one phenomenon I had never seen him use for putting on an act. It meant he was working. But on what? No client, no evidence, no itch whatever except to get in the car and start home. However, it was well established that when that fit took him he was not to be interrupted, so I went to a window for another lookout.
Wolfe’s Voice turned me around: “What time is it?”
I glanced at my wrist. “Twenty minutes to 8.”
“I want to make a phone call. Where?”
“There’s one in the big room, as you know. I understand that phone calls are being permitted, but they’re monitored. There’s a cop in the big room, and not only that, you can bet they’ve tapped the line outside.”
“I must phone. It’s essential.” He put his hands on the chair arms and levered himself up. “What is Nathaniel Parker’s home number?”
“Lincoln 3-4616.”
“Come on.” He headed for the door.
I followed him down the hall and into the big room. The trooper was there, going around switching lamps on. He gave us a glance but no words. When Wolfe picked up the phone he moved in our direction, but uttered no protest. Wolfe had taken out his notebook and opened it on the table, and from across the table the trooper focused on it, but all he saw was a blank page.
Wolfe was speaking: “Person-to-person call to a New York City number. This is Whiteface 7808. My name is Nero Wolfe. I wish to speak to Mr. Nathaniel Parker in New York, at Lincoln 3-4616.”