She turned to me. "What's this address?" I told her, and she went back to the phone. "Six-eighteen West Thirty-fifth Street…That's right…Yes, I will." She hung up, swiveled, told Wolfe, "Mr. Aiken will be here in twenty minutes," and wriggled her coat off.
Wolfe asked, "Who is Mr.Aiken?"
Her look was what you would get from the Yankee batboy if you asked him who is Mr. Stengel. "Mr. Benedict Aiken. The president of Continental Plastic Products."
That changed my mind. Wanting my own chair, I had been about to move her to the red leather one, but she would only have to move again when the president came, so I brought one of the yellow ones for her, facing Wolfe's desk, and put her coat on the couch. As she changed to it Wolfe lifted his head to sniff. His opinion of perfume may be only a part of his opinion of women. He always thinks he smells it when there's a woman in the room. I had been closer to Julia McGee than he had, and she wasn't scented.
He eyed her. "You told Mr. Goodwin that you went to that room this evening to get a notebook you had left there. When did you leave it?"
She was meeting his eyes. "I'll wait until Mr. Aiken gets here."
Wolfe shook his head. "That won't do. I can't prevent his coming, but he'll enter only if it suits me. I want some facts before he arrives. When did you leave the notebook?"
She opened her mouth and closed it again. In a moment she spoke. "I didn't. That was a - that wasn't true. I went there this evening because Mr. Aiken asked me to."
''Indeed. To get something he had left?"
"No. I'd rather wait until he's here, but it doesn't matter. You know that place was Mr. Yeager's, so it doesn't matter. Mr. Aiken sent me there to see if there was anything there that would connect Mr. Yeager with it, that would show it was his place."
"Mr, Aiken gave you keys?"
"No, I had keys. I had been there a few times to take dictation from Mr. Yeager. I was his secretary."
Wolfe grunted. "I haven't seen that room, but Mr. Goodwin has described it. Did you think it a suitable milieu for business dictation?"
"It wasn't my place to think it was suitable or wasn't. If he thought it was - he was my boss."
Wolfe looked at me. I raised my brows. One brow up meant no, even money. Two brows up meant no, five to one. He returned to her.
"If you had found something that showed it was Mr. Yeager's place, what were you going to do with it?"
"I was going to take it. Take it away."
"As instructed by Mr. Aiken?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Mr. Aiken can tell you that better than I can."
"You must have a notion. You didn't think that he was merely indulging a whim."
"Of course not. The obvious reason was that he wanted to protect the reputation of Continental Plastic Products. It was bad enough, the executive vice-president being murdered. Mr. Aiken didn't want it to be known that he had been - that he had had a - a place like that."
"Do you know how Mr. Aiken found out that Mr. Yeager had that place?"
"Yes. I told him."
"When?"
"About two months ago. Mr. Yeager had had me go there twice - no, three times - to take dictation in the evening. He said he could think better, do better work, away from the office. Of course you're right, what you said about that room. I thought it was very - well, vulgar for him to ask me to go there. I worried about it, and I decided my loyalty shouldn't be to Mr. Yeager, it should be to the corporation. It paid my salary. So I told Mr. Aiken."
"What did he say?"
"He thanked me for telling him."
"What did he do?"
"I don't know. I don't know if he did anything."
"Did he speak to Mr. Yeager about it?"
"I don't know."
"Pfui. Certainly you know. If he had, Mr. Yeager would have known you told him. Did you remark any change in Mr. Yeager's attitude to you?"
"No."
"Did he continue to ask you to go there to take dictation?"
"Yes."
"How many times in the two months since you told Mr. Aiken?"
"Twice."
Wolfe shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a fingertip. Ten seconds. His eyes opened. "When did Mr. Aiken ask you to go there this evening?"
"This afternoon at the office. He asked if I still had the keys, and I said yes. He asked if I had ever told anyone else about that place, and I said no. He said it would be a great favor to the corporation if I would go there and make sure that - what I told you."
"Have you any reason to suppose that Mr. Aiken has ever been there?"
Her eyes widened. "Of course not."
He shook his head. "No, Miss McGee. No assumption is of course in an unsolved problem. I may if I choose assume that you have been entirely candid with me, but I may not - "
The doorbell rang. I got up and went, and there on the stoop was the president. The stoop light is at an angle on someone facing the door, from the side, so features aren't distinct, but the gray homburg and the fit of the gray topcoat were enough. I went and opened the door and asked, "Mr. Aiken? Come in."
He stayed put. "Am I expected?"
"Yes, sir. Miss McGee is with Mr. Wolfe." He crossed the sill, and I helped him off with his coat. With his hat off, I recognized him; he had been seated near Thomas G. Yeager in the picture I had seen in Lon Cohen's office of the banquet of the National Plastics Association. His face was well formed and well kept, and though his hair was mostly gray, he still had it. Every inch a president. He had paid at least eight times as much for his suit as the phony Yeager had paid for his. When I convoyed him to the office he stopped four steps in and said, "Good evening, Miss McGee," then turned to Wolfe and said, "Good evening, sir. I'm Benedict Aiken."
She was on her feet. I thought she had risen to show respect, but Wolfe spoke to Aiken. "I have told Miss McGee that I'll speak with you privately first. If you please, madam? The door, Archie."
"Just a minute." Aiken wasn't belligerent, just firm. "I'd like to speak with Miss McGee myself."
"No doubt." Wolfe upturned a palm. "Mr. Aiken. What Miss McGee told you on the phone was correct except for one detail, that she was attacked. I stationed a man in that room on the chance that someone would come there. Miss McGee came, and she - "
"Why are you interested in that room?
"Because it belonged to Thomas G. Yeager and was used by him. The man didn't attack Miss McGee; she attacked him. In explaining to me why she went there she mentioned you, and I would like an explanation from you so I can compare it with hers. She may be present if you prefer, but not if she tries to interrupt. If she does, Mr. Goodwin will stop her."
Aiken looked at me, sizing me up. He went to the red leather chair and sat, in no hurry, making himself comfortable with his elbows on the arms. His eyes went to Wolfe. "Why do you think that room belonged to Thomas G. Yeager?"
"I don't think, I know."
"Why are you concerned? Whom are you acting for?"
"Myself. I have no engagement. I am in possession of a fact about a man who was murdered that is not commonly known. I am not legally obliged to communicate it to the police, and I am exploring the possibility of using it to my profit - not by concealing it, but by exploiting it. Like doctors, lawyers, plumbers, and many others, I get my income from the necessities, the tribulations, and the misfortunes of my fellow beings. You are under no compulsion to tell me why you are concerned, but I am willing to listen. I didn't get you here."
Aiken was smiling, not with amusement. "I can't complain," he said, "since you have the handle. I didn't expect you to tell me who has hired you, but it's hard to believe that no one has. How did you find out about that room?"
Wolfe shook his head. "I owe you no light, sir. But I have not been hired. If I had a client I would say so, of course without naming him."
"How are you going to use the fact you possess about that room?"
"I don't know. That will be determined by events. My man is still there."