I worked my fingers limber enough so I could resume at the typewriter, but that report was hoeing a hard row. In addition to my deep-seated reluctance to spoiling white paper just to furnish a cop with reading matter, there were constant interruptions. A phone call from Miltan the йpйe champion. All he wanted was information and I had none to give him. One from a guy in town from St Louis who wanted to discuss orchids with Wolfe, and an appointment was made for the next day. One from Orrie Cather for Wolfe, and, a little later, one from Saul Panzer, both of which I was invited to keep out of.
Towards eleven o'clock there was a phone call from the Emperor of Japan. At least it might as well have been. First a woman asked for Mr Wolfe, and I asked who was it and she said Mr Barrett and I said put him on and she said hold the wire. I waited a while. Then a man said he wanted Mr Wolfe, and I said is this Mr Barrett, and he said authoritatively, no, it isn't, put Mr Wolfe on, please, and I asked who it was that wanted to talk to Mr Wolfe, and he said Mr Barrett, and I said put him on and he said hold the wire. That kind of a shenanigan. There was more to it than that, but after a terrific and exhausting struggle I finally heard something definite, in a leisurely cultivated male voice: "This is Barrett, Mr Wolfe?"
"Donald Barrett?"
"No, no, John P. Barrett."
"Oh, Donald's father. Of Barrett amp; De Russy?"
"That's right, Mr Wolfe, could you-"
"Hold it. This is Archie Goodwin, Mr Wolfe's confidential assistant."
"I thought I had Wolfe."
"Nope. I wore 'em out. Mr Wolfe will be engaged until eleven o'clock. I'll take any message."
"Well." Hesitation. "That will do, I suppose. I would like to have Mr Wolfe call at my office as soon after eleven as possible."
"No, sir. I'm sorry. He never makes calls."
"But this is important. In fact, urgent. It will be well worth his while-"
"No, sir. There's no use prolonging it. Mr Wolfe transacts business only at his office. He wouldn't go across the street to receive the keys to the Bank of England."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Yes, sir. I've always said so. But there's no use discussing it except as an interesting case of cussedness."
For ten seconds I heard nothing. Then, "Where is your office?"
"506 West 35th Street."
"Mr Wolfe is there throughout the day?"
"And night. Office and home."
"Well. I'll see. Thank you."
Wolfe came down from the plant room a few minutes later, and after he had run through the mail, tested his pen, rung for beer, and glanced at the three pages of the report I had managed to finish, I told him about it. He listened impressively and thanked me with a disinterested nod. Thinking a little prodding was in order, I observed that he was in the case anyway, on account of family obligations, spending money right and left, and that it was therefore shortsighted and unintelligent not to permit Miss Tormic to have a co-client, when the co-client was of the nature of John P. Barrett, obviously anxious to join in the fun and ready to ante. I told him about the hundred bucks of Barrett dough which had already passed through our hands and said what a pity it would be to stop there, but before I could really get worked up about it I was interrupted by the arrival of the client herself. Fritz announced Miss Neya Tormic and escorted her in.
She greeted Wolfe in a hurry and me not at all, and without taking time to sit down, demanded of him: "The paper? Have you got the paper?"
She looked drawn and she acted jerky.
Wolfe said, "Yes, it's here. Please sit down, won't you?"
"I. the paper!"
"Give it to her, Archie."
I went to the safe and got it. It was still in the envelope addressed to Saul Panzer. I removed it, tossed the envelope in the waste-basket, and handed the paper to her. She unfolded it and inspected it.
Wolfe said, extending his hand, "Let me see it, please."
That didn't appeal to her. She made no move to comply. He frowned at her and repeated his request in a crisper tone, and she handed it over but kept her eyes glued to it. He gave it a glance, folded it up, and asked her:
"Where is Miss Lovchen?"
"I suppose she's at the studio. She said she was going there."
"Surely there'll be no fencing lessons there to-day."
"I don't know. That's what she said."
"You saw her this morning?"
"Of course. We live together in a little flat on 38th Street." She put her hand out. "Give me-"
"Wait a minute. I don't know why I assumed that Miss Lovchen would accompany you here this morning-it was stupid of me to do so, but I did. Anyway, it was she who left this paper here, and I'd rather return it to her. If she-"
"I'll take it to her."
"No. I think not. Here, Archie. Go along with Miss Tormic to Miltan's and deliver this to Miss Lovchen. I like it better that way-"
"That's absurd!" the client protested. "What's the difference whether it's me or Carla?"
"None, perhaps. But this suits me better. It's neater." He handed the thing to me and then regarded her gloomily. "I hope you know what you're doing. I hope you have some idea of what's going on. I haven't. Mr Faber has come here twice for the purpose of getting hold of that paper."
"Oh." She compressed her lips. "He has?"
"Yes. The second time was only a little more than an hour ago, and Mr Goodwin lost his temper and hit him in the eye. So. I presume you girls realize that possession of that document-"
"We realize it."
"Very well. Do you still expect to complete your. errand. to-day?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
She shook her head.
He shrugged. "Did you keep your appointment with Mr Cramer this morning?"
"Yes, but not with Mr Cramer. A man came and took me down there, and two men talked with me. That's where I came from, here."
"You told about finding those things in your pocket and so on."
"Yes."
"Did they ask about your political mission-anything of that sort?"
"Why, no, they don't know anything about that."
"Were you followed when you left there?"
"I-" She bit it off. In a moment she said, "I don't think so." Her head jerked at me and back at him. "If you're going to insist-I haven't much time. I must see Carla anyway, but if he's going-"
Wolfe nodded. "All right. Pfui. Archie, give that paper to Miss Lovchen in the presence of Miss Tormic."
I suggested, "Fred's in the front room-"
"No. You do it."
"Cramer's due in half an hour."
"I know. Hurry back."
I ushered her out. That roadster was still at the kerb in front where I had left it. We climbed in and I warmed up the engine a minute, and rolled. She was completely don't-touch-me. Whatever her mind was on, it certainly wasn't on me, and during the short ride to 48th Street I accepted that as the status quo.
Across the street from Miltan's a little group was collected on the sidewalk, and in front of the entrance a flatfoot was pacing a short beat. He gave us an eye as we went in, but made no attempt to interfere. Inside was no sign of life in the hall or reception room; but a murmur came from the rear and we went back there to the large office. Jeanne Miltan was in a chair at a desk, with two squad dicks, each with a notebook, seated facing her. Her husband, looking haggard and hopeless, was pacing the floor, shaking his head at himself. As we entered one of the dicks looked up and barked: