John P. was regarding him steadily. "I'm waiting for you to say something."
"That's about all there is."
"Bah. You've made a lot of loose accusations, with nothing to support them."
"There's that paper."
"You stole it."
"I didn't. But what if I did? There it is, for evidence."
"Damn flimsy evidence for two murders."
"I know." Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. "See here, Mr Barrett, you're making a blunder. I made a serious threat. I said that a warrant would issue charging your son with murder. I meant, of course, as accessory, which is the same thing. It's obvious that he knew the Princess Vladanka had killed Ludlow. You probably knew it too, but I have no proof that you tried actively to cheat the law. I have got proof that your son did, and three witnesses: Belinda Reade, Madame Zorka, and Mr Goodwin, my assistant-"
"That was only-"
"Quiet, son." John P. didn't move his eyes from Wolfe. "What else?"
"Nothing to stun you with, I'm afraid. Frankly, sir, I have no bomb to explode under you. But the point is this: Mr Cramer here doesn't like murder. He doesn't like to see it practised with impunity under any circumstances whatever, but in this case he was impeded by a wall of reluctance which he couldn't possibly have breached. By luck I had made a hole in the wall, and I've let him through, and if you knew him as I do you would realize that he can't be chased out again. He has it now, and he'll hang on to it, unless you can get him ditched, which I doubt. He has that paper, and he'll arrest the princess, so your deal's off anyway. He has enough to take your son as a material witness. With that paper, he can get a court order to examine your records and correspondence. But you know as well as I do what this will mean if you try to fight it. If you try to shield a murderess from the penalty she has earned. The fact is. "
I missed some then because I had to answer the doorbell. It was Charlie Heath. He started for the office as if he owned the place, but I blocked him off and demanded, "Would you mind explaining what it was that took so long?"
"I'll report to the inspector."
"He's busy, and you'll wait in here." I opened the door to the front room, where Fred Durkin was sitting with a magazine. "What used up all the time?"
"Nothing used it up. I mean I got back ten minutes ago. I've been out front."
"You have?"
"I have."
"Okay. Wait here."
I went back to the office and ran into a scowling match, and took advantage of it to report the return of Heath. All Cramer did was to favour me with five seconds of his share of the scowl. Wolfe didn't even look at me. Apparently he was still trying to undermine Barrett without a bomb and was finding it hard digging.
"No," he said, "I wouldn't expect that. We don't expect much from you, Mr Barrett, in any event. But you seem to have overlooked one thing, at least: You seem to be ignoring the existence of a person who knows as much about all this as the princess herself does. Including your part in it, and your son's part. I mean, of course, the friend who came here with the princess from Zagreb."
"Maybe he's ignoring it," Cramer put in, "but I'm not. And you let her go, and gave her money to go with. That was cute."
"No," Wolfe asserted, "I did not."
Cramer stared. Wolfe said, "Archie, get that package from the safe and give it to Mr Cramer."
I went and got it and handed it over. Cramer started to unfold it.
That," Wolfe said, "is the photograph of the Princess Vladanka Donevitch, radioed from London. If I had only got it this morning-"
Cramer jumped up, sputtering, "What kind of a goddam run-around-this is that Tormic-"
"Now, please!" Wolfe pushed a palm at him. "Yes, it is Miss Tormic. I agreed-"
"And she's-and, by God, you had one of my men take her and turn her loose-"
"I did. What else could I do? She was sitting here in my office, thinking she was my client, under my protection. I didn't agree to catch the murderer for you. I agreed to disclose the identity and the motive. If you'll take my advice, the simplest way to get her-"
But Cramer wasn't taking advice. He nearly knocked me out of my chair, getting at the phone. Father and son sat tight. Wolfe looked up at the clock and heaved a sigh. Cramer got his number and began spouting orders to someone. I picked up the radiophoto of the princess and laid it on Wolfe's desk, and gathered up the wrapping paper and put it in the waste-basket.
Cramer finished and stood up and yapped at Wolfe, "If we don't get her I'll-"
"It was a bargain," Wolfe snapped.
"One hell of a bargain." He moved for the door, turned, and spoke to the Barretts: "I'll want to see you. If you try setting a fire under me, I'll give you all I've got." He went and I was right behind him. While he grabbed his coat and hat I got Heath from the front room, always glad to get cops out of the house, from the flatfoots on up. I followed them out to the stoop, leaving the door ajar, and watched the army that had been surrounding the house being called into action. Cramer waved them in and gave them curt and crackling orders. His own car had to back up a few feet before it could nose around the rear of the Barrett town car. The taxi down the street rolled up, then it and Heath's car sped away. Cramer's car started, then stopped, and my name was called:
"Hey, Goodwin, come here!"
I trotted down the steps and past Barrett's car on over to him. Cramer leaned from the window:
"I want that picture. Understand?"
"Sure, we're through with it," I told him obligingly, and stood at the kerb and watched their tail light as they headed for the corner.
I watched them too long.
What happened, happened quick, but even so I might have headed her off if I had turned two seconds sooner. She came from inside the tonneau of Barrett's car, leaping out, and went like a bat out of hell across the sidewalk, up the steps and through the door I had left ajar. I was after her, and I am not old enough to be incapable of rapid movement. I was starting up the steps as she hurtled through the door, and by the light in the hall I saw a glittering streak from something she had in her hand. I gave it all I had then, but I couldn't catch lightning. When I was at the door she was swerving into the office. As I made the office she was half-way across it and her hand was up with the shining blade, and Wolfe was there in his chair with no time to move, and I had no gun, and all I could do was yell and keep going.
I do not know now how Wolfe did it, and I never will know, though he has kindly explained it to me several times. He says that when he heard the commotion in the hall he stiffened into attention, which is the most credible part of it; that when he saw her leaping in with the dagger flashing he grabbed a beer bottle with each hand; that when she was upon him he struck simultaneously with both hands, with his left at her descending wrist and with his right at anything at all. I don't know. I do know that something broke her right wrist and something cracked her skull.
When I reached them he was still sitting in his chair with a beer bottle in each hand and she was on the floor back of his chair, flat on the floor, with her legs twitching, spasmodically. I looked at him for blood and didn't see any. Fred Durkin busted in from the front room. Fritz came running from the kitchen. Father and son stood there white and speechless. I couldn't see anything wrong with Wolfe, but I asked him in a voice that sounded funny to me:
"Did she get you?"
"No!" he bellowed. He couldn't get up because her body against his chair kept him from shoving it back to make room.
I knelt down to take a look at her. Her legs had stopped twitching. I couldn't feel any heart. It was close quarters, with her there between Wolfe's chair and the wall, and I squirmed around to get on the other side of her. As I did so I heard a voice from the middle of the room: