the eye, engaging him professionally, and telling him he could name his figure, no matter what, whereas with me ten grand had been his limit. The gall of the guy! I had to admire him.
The corners of Wolfe’s mouth were up. 'Indeed,' he said. Laidlaw took a breath, but it came out merely as used air, not as words.
'Mr Goodwin has told me,' Wolfe said, 'of the proposal you made to him. I am at a loss whether to respect your doggedness and applaud your dexterity or to deplore your naivete. In any case I must decline the engagement. I already have the information you’re after, but I got it from Mr Goodwin in confidence and may not disclose it. I’m sorry, sir.'
Laidlaw took another breath. 'I’m not as dogged as you are,' he declared. 'Both of you. In the name of God, what’s so top secret about it? What are you afraid of?'
Wolfe shook his head. 'Not afraid, Mr Laidlaw, merely discreet. When a matter in which we have an interest and a commitment requires us to nettle the police we are not at all reluctant. In this affair Mr Goodwin is involved solely because he happened to be there; just as you are, and I am not involved at all. It is not a question of fear or of animus. I am merely detached. I will not, for instance, tell the police of the offers you have made Mr Goodwin and me because it would stimulate their curiosity about you, and since I assume you have made the offers in good faith I am not disposed to do you an ill turn.'
'But you’re turning me down.'
'Yes. Flatly. In the circumstances I have no choice. Mr Goodwin can speak for himself.'
Laidlaw’s head turned to me and I had the eyes again. I wouldn’t have put it past him to renew his offer, with an amendment that he would now leave the figure up to me, but if he had that in mind he abandoned it when he saw my steadfast countenance. When, after regarding me for eight seconds, he left his chair, I thought he was leaving the field and Wolfe wouldn’t have to go to work after all, but no. He only wanted to mull, and preferred to have his face to himself. He asked, 'May I have a minute?' and, when Wolfe said yes, he turned his back and moseyed across the rug towards the far wall, where the big globe stood in front of bookshelves; and, for double the time he had asked for, at least that, he stood revolving the globe. Finally he about-faced and returned to the red leather chair, not moseying.
'I must speak with you privately,' he told Wolfe.
'You are,' Wolfe said snortly. 'If you mean alone, no. If a confidence weren’t as safe with Mr Goodwin as with me he wouldn’t be here. His ears are mine, and mine are his.'
'This isn’t only a confidence. I’m going to tell you something that no one on earth knows about but me. I’m going to risk telling you because I have to, but I’m not going to double the risk.'
'You will not be doubling it.' Wolfe was patient. 'If Mr Goodwin left us I would give him a signal to listen to us on a contraption in another room, so he might as well stay.'
'You don’t make it any easier, Wolfe.'
'I don’t pretend to make things easier. I only make them manageable-when I can.'
Laidlaw looked as if he needed to mull some more, but he got it decided without going to consult the globe again. 'You’ll have all you can do to manage this,' he declared. 'I couldn’t go to my lawyer with it, or anyhow I wouldn’t, and even if I had it would have been too much for him. I thought I couldn’t go to anybody, and then I thought of you. You have the reputation of a wizard, and God knows I need one. First I wanted to know why Goodwin thinks it was murder, but evidently you’re not going-by the way-'
He took a pen from a pocket and a chequebook from another, put the book on the little table at his elbow, and wrote. He yanked the cheque off, glanced it over, got up to put it on Wolfe’s desk, and returned to the chair.
'If twenty thousand isn’t enough,' he said, 'for a retainer and advances for expenses, say so. You haven’t accepted the job, I know, but I’m camping here until you do. You spoke of managing things. I want you to manage that if they go on with their investigation it doesn’t go deep enough to uncover and make public a certain event in my life. I also want you to manage that I don’t get arrested and put on trial for murder.'
Wolfe grunted. 'I could give no guarantee against either contingency.'
'I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect you to pass miracles, either. And two things I want to make plain: first, if Faith Usher was murdered I didn’t kill her and don’t know who did; and second, my own conviction is that she committed suicide. I don’t know what Goodwin’s reason is for thinking she was murdered, but whatever it is, I’m convinced that he’s wrong.'
Wolfe grunted again. 'Then why come to me in a dither? If you’re convinced it was suicide. Since they are human the police do frequently fumble, but usually they arrive at the truth. Finally.'
'That’s the trouble. Finally. This time, before they arrive, they might run across the event I spoke of, and if they do, they might charge me with murder. Not they might, they would.'
'Indeed. It must have been an extraordinary event. If that is what you intend to confide in me, I make two remarks: that you are not yet my client, and that even if you were, disclosures to a private detective by a client are not a privileged communication. It’s an impasse, Mr Laidlaw. I can’t decide whether to accept your job until I know what the event was; but I will add that if I do accept it I will go far to protect the interest of a client.'
'I’m desperate, Wolfe,' Laidlaw said. He pushed his hair back, but it needed more than a push. 'I admit it. I’m desperate. You’ll accept the job because there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. What I’m going to tell you is known to no one on earth but me, I’m pretty sure of that, but not absolutely sure, and that’s the devil of it.'
He pushed at his hair again. 'I’m not proud of this, what I’m telling you. I’m thirty-one years old. In August, nineteen fifty-six, a year and a half ago, I went into Cordoni’s on Madison Avenue to buy some flowers, and the girl who waited on me was attractive, and that evening I drove her to a place in the country for dinner. Her name was Faith Usher. Her vacation was to start in ten days, and by the time it started I had persuaded her to spend it in Canada with me. I didn’t use my own name; I’m almost certain she never knew what it was. She only had a week, and when we got back she went back to work at Cordoni’s, and I went to Europe and was gone two months. When I returned I had no idea of resuming any relations with her, but I had no reason to avoid her, and I stopped in at Cordoni’s one day. She was there, but she would barely speak to me. She asked me, if I came to Cordoni’s again, to get someone else to wait on me.'
