Anonymous letters are a central factor in this case, a vital factor. You went up to that apartment today to see those people, and you had in your pocket an anonymous letter about one of them, practically accusing her of murder. Do you mean to tell me that you take the position that that letter has no connection with the crimes under investigation?” “I sure do. Evidently Mr Wolfe does too.” I made a gesture. “Corroboration.” “You take and maintain that position while aware of the penalty that may be imposed upon conviction for an obstruction of justice?” “I do.” O’Hara turned and blurted at Cramer, “Get Wolfe down here! Damn it, we should have hauled him in hours ago!” This, I thought to myself, is something like. Now we ought to see some fur fly.
But we didn't, at least not as O’Hara had it programmed. What interfered was a phone call. The buzzer sounded, and Purley, seeing that his superiors were too worked up to hear it, went to the desk and answered. After a word he told Cramer, Tor you, Inspector,” and Cramer crossed and got it. O’Hara stood glaring down at me, but, having his attention called by a certain tone taken by Cramer's voice, turned to look that way. Finally Cramer hung up. The expression on his face was that of a man trying to decide what it was he just swallowed.
“Well?” O’Hara demanded.
“The desk just had a call,” Cramer said, “from the WPIT newsroom. WPIT is doing the script for the ten o'clock newscast, and they're including an announcement received a few minutes ago from Nero Wolfe. Wolfe announces that he has solved the murder cases, all three of them, with no assistance from the police, and that very soon, probably sometime tomorrow, he will be ready to tell the District Attorney the name of the murderer and to furnish all necessary information. WPIT wants to know if we have any comment.” Of course it was vulgar, but I couldn't help it. I threw back my head and let out a roar. It wasn't so much the news itself as it was the look on O’Hara's face as the full beauty of it seeped through to him.
“The fat bum!” Purley whimpered.
I told O’Hara distinctly: The next time Cramer asks you to step into another room with him I'd advise you to step.” He didn't hear me.
“It wasn't a question,” Cramer said, “of Wolfe having me buffaloed. With him the only question is what has he got and how and when will he use it. If that goes on the air I would just as soon quit.” “What-” O’Hara stopped to wet his lips. “What would you suggest?” Cramer didn't answer. He pulled a cigar from his pocket, slow motion, got it between his teeth, took it out again and hurled it for the wastebasket, missing by two feet, walked to a chair, sat down, and breathed.
“There are only two things,” he said. “Just let it land is one. The other is to ask Goodwin to call him and request him to recall the announcement-and tell him he'll be home right away to report.” Cramer breathed again. “I won't ask Goodwin that. Do you want to?” “No! It's blackmail!” O’Hara yelled in pain.
“Yeah,” Cramer agreed. “Only when Wolfe does it there's nothing anonymous about it The newscast will be on in thirty-five minutes.” O’Hara would rather have eaten soap. “It may be a bluff,” he pleaded.”Pure bluff!” “Certainly it may. And it may not. It's easy enough to call it-just sit down and wait. If you're not going to call on Goodwin I guess I'll have to see if I can get hold of the Commissioner.” Cramer stood up.
O’Hara turned to me. I have to hand it to him, he looked me in the eye as he asked: Will you do it?” I grinned at him. “That warrant Purley showed me is around somewhere. It will be vacated?” “Yes.” “Okay, I've got witnesses.” I crossed to the desk and began returning my belongings to the proper pockets. The anonymous letter was there where O’Hara had left it when he had advanced to overwhelm me, and I picked it up and displayed it. “I'm taking this,” I said, “but I'll let you look at it again if you want to May I use the phone?” I circled the desk, dropped into O’Hara's personal chair, pulled the instrument to me, and asked the male switchboard voice to get Mr Nero Wolfe. The voice asked who I was and I told it. Then we had some comedy. After I had waited a good two minutes there was a knock on the door and O’Hara called come in. The door swung wide open and two individuals entered with guns in their hands, stern and alert. When they saw the arrangements they stopped dead and looked foolish.
“What do you want?” O’Hara barked.
“The phone,” one said. “Goodwin. We didn't know…” “For Christ's sake!” Purley exploded. “Ain't I here?” It was a breach of discipline, with his superiors present They bumped at the threshold, getting out, pulling the door after them. I couldn't possibly have been blamed for helping myself to another hearty laugh, but mere's a limit to what even a Deputy Commissioner will take, so I choked it off and sat tight until there was a voice in my ear that I knew better than any other voice on earth.
“Archie,” I said.
“Where are you?” The voice was icy with rage, but not at me.
“I'm in O’Hara's office, at his desk, using his phone. I am half-starved.
