"Is that. wrong?"
"Hell, no. Oh, my, no. And do you know who put it in your pocket?"
"No."
"Of course you don't. Or when?"
"No." Neya frowned. "I have thought about that. I left the robe in the locker room, lying on a bench, when I went to the end room to fence. After I left Mr Ludlow there and met Mr Faber in the hall, I stopped in the locker room to leave my pad and glove and mask, and put on the robe and went with Mr Faber to the alcove. Whoever put the glove in my pocket, I don't think they did it until afterwards, because I think I would have noticed it. After the porter started to yell, we were all running around and jostling against each other-and I suppose someone did it then. that's the only way I can explain how it might have happened-"
"And you knew nothing about it."
"I knew nothing about it until I felt something in my pocket there in the office."
"And you were scared. You were just simply perfectly innocent."
"Yes. I was. I am."
"Sure. But though you were perfectly innocent, you didn't tell the police about it, and you weren't going to tell about it, and you never would have told about it, if Madame Zorka hadn't reported that she saw you do it and you were afraid to deny it!" He was yapping into her face at a range of thirty inches. "Huh?"
"I-" She swallowed, "I think I might. But the way I thought about it, I thought Mr Goodwin would find it in his pocket and turn it over to you, and it wouldn't matter whether you knew it had ever been in my pocket or not."
"Then you thought wrong. Mr Goodwin doesn't turn things over to the police. Mr Goodwin climbs a fence and runs home to papa and says see what I got, and papa says-"
"Nonsense!" Wolfe cut in sharply. "We'll dispose of that point now. You know what I told you; I don't need to repeat it. Granted that your suppositiiious assumpiion is correct, that Archie knew it was in his pocket and ran away with it, and that we concealed it from you, you can't possibly establish it as a fact, so why the devil waste time harping on it? Especially in view of a fact that is established, that when Madame Zorka's phone call caused us to investigate the overcoat pocket, we immediately communicated with you."
"You had to!"
Wolfe grimaced. "I don't know. Had to? Ingenuity can nearly always create an alternative if none exists. Anyway, we did. And if we hadn't, but had proceeded without you, your two missing objects would still be missing, for when Archie and Miss Tormic called on Madame Zorka she would have been gone, and the compulsion of her threatened exposure would have been removed. So you owe your possession of these two objects to us. You owe your knowledge of a suspicious circumstance, Madame Zorka's flight with a bag and suitcase, to us. And you owe your knowledge of the manner in which the criminal disposed of the glove and col de mort to the courageous candour of my client."
Cramer, standing, stared down at him, and as far as I could see his face was not glowing with gratitude.
He said, "So she's your client, is she?"
"I told you so."
"You said tentatively. You said you'd decide when you had met her."
"I have met her."
"All right, you've met her. Is she your client?"
"She is."
Cramer hesitated, then turned slowly and looked down at Neya. His gaze had concentration, but no acute hostility; and I suppressed a grin. I knew what was eating him. He was well aware that the time had yet to come when he would successfully pin a murder charge on any man, woman or child whom Nero Wolfe had accepted as a client, and he was strongly tempied to call it a day then and there as far as Neya Tormic was concerned and throw in another line. He even, half unconsciously, favoured Carla Lovchen with a sidewise suspicious glance, but he returned to Neya and, after a moment, wheeled again to Wolfe.
"Faber gives her an alibi. Okay. But you don't need to be told that an alibi works both ways. What if Faber thought she needed one and so he provided it? And she thought she needed it too, and accepted it and confirmed it? Without maybe realizing that while Faber was giving her an alibi, what he was really doing was arranging one for himself?"
Wolfe nodded. "An old trick, but still a good one. That's quite possible, of course. Will you have some beer?"
"No."
"You, Miss Tormic, Miss Lovchen?"
He got their declinations, pressed the button and went on: "This thing's messy, Mr Cramer. It looks as if I'm going to have to find out who killed Mr Ludlow, unless you do it first yourself. You certainly aren't going to get anywhere badgering my client. Look at her. I'll have a little talk with her after you leave, and one thing I shall tell her is to hang on to the Faber alibi, for the present, even if it was fabricated by him. True, it protects Faber, but it also protects her. If and when you can point a suspicion at Faber, especially a motive, let me know and we'll discuss the alibi business."
"You suspect her of lying yourself!"
"Not specifically. Anyone would tell a lie, at least by acquiescence, rather than stand trial for murder. By the way, about this Mr Faber. You are entirely wrong in your suspicion that he wasn't a stranger to me. I never saw him or heard of him in my life before to-day. Is he by any chance another confidential government agent?"
Cramer eyed him. "How did you know that if he was such a stranger to you?"
"I didn't. Mere conjecture. If I had known it I wouldn't have asked. Not British, is he?"
"No."
"Of course not. He might as well display an emblem on an armband. Archie and I don't like him. It's a pity my client's alibi depends on him; I would prefer to establish her innocence without that. Do you suppose the attack on Ludlow was the eagle clawing the lion?"
"I don't suppose. It was a human being murdering a man."
"Yes, it was that, all right." Wolfe glanced up at the clock. "It's well past midnight, and I want to have a little talk with Miss Tormic. Is there anything else you want to ask her?"
"She's an alien. I ought to have her under bond."
"She won't skip, at least not to-night, and we can arrange for the bond to-morrow if you insist on it."
Cramer grunted. "She's important. She had the murder weapon in her possession. I'd like to have her come to my office to-morrow morning at nine o'clock and see Lieutenant Rowcliff."
Wolfe frowned. "Mr Rowcliff is the officer who came here once with a warrant and searched my house."
"Yeah. You don't forget that, do you?"
"No, Neither do you- Come in. Yes, Fritz?" On account of the barricade of chairs, Fritz had to talk over the top of Neya Tormic's head. He was stiffly formal, as was his invariable custom when there were ladies present, not from any sense of propriety but from fear. Whenever any female, no matter what her age or appearance, got inside the house, he was apprehensive and ill at ease until she got out again.
"A gentleman to see you, sir. Mr Stahl. He was here this afternoon."
Wolfe said to show him in.
Chapter Eight
The G-man was wearing the same suit and the same manners, and the only visible change was that he had hhhhhis shoes shined. Cramer took one look at him, let out a grunt, and propped himself against the edge of my desk.
The G-man apologized in his educated voice. "I didn't know you were engaged, Mr Wolfe. I don't want to interrupt-"
"I'll be engaged for some time. Do you need to see me alone?"
That seemed to stump him. He frowned and took a quick survey of the crowd. "Perhaps not," he decided. "It's only. about that statute requiring the registration of agents of foreign principals."
"What about it?"
"Well-it is necessary to make sure that you understand the requirements."
"I think I do understand them."
"Perhaps. Section 5 of the Act says, 'Any person who wilfully fails to file any statement required to be filed under this Act, or, in complying with the provisions of this Act, makes a false statement of a material fact, or wilfully omits to state any material fact required to be stated therein, shall, on conviction thereof, be punished by a fine of not more than $1,000 or imprisonment for not more than two years, or both.'"