loose-jointed, early thirties, brown hair and eyes, skin tight on his bones. Go in and take a look. If you want a bet, one will get you ten that they’re together.'
'I never bet against fate,' he said, and went. The five minutes that he was gone were five hours. I sat down on the iron thing and got up again three times, or maybe four.
He came, and said. 'They’re together in a booth in a rear corner. No one is with them. He’s eating oysters.'
'He’ll soon be eating crow. What do you want for Christmas?'
'I have always wanted your autograph.'
'You’ll get it. I’ll tattoo it on you. Now we have a problem. She’s yours and he’s mine. Now they’re together. Who’s in command?'
'That’s easy, Archie. Mr Wolfe.'
'I suppose so, damn it. We could wrap it up by midnight. Take them to a basement, I know one, and peel their hides off. If he’s eating oysters there’s plenty of time to phone. You or me?'
'You. I’ll stick here.'
'Where’s Orrie?'
'Lost. When she came out he was for feet and I was for wheels, and she took a taxi.'
'I saw it pull up. Okay. Sit down and make yourself at home.'
At the bar and grill at the corner the phone booth was occupied and I had to wait, and I was tired of waiting, having done too much of it in the last four days. But in a few minutes the customer emerged, and I entered, pulled the door shut, and dialled the number I knew best. When Fritz answered I told him I wanted to speak to Mr Wolfe.
'But Archie! He’s at dinner!'
'I know. Tell him it’s urgent.' That was another unexpected pleasure, having a good excuse to call Wolfe from the table. He has too many rules. His voice came, or rather his roar.
'Well?'
'I have a report. Saul and I are having an argument. He thought-'
'What the devil are you doing with Saul?'
'I’m telling you. He thought I should phone you. We have a problem of protocol. I tailed Byne to a restaurant, a joint, and Saul tailed Mrs Usher to the same restaurant, and our two subjects are in there together in a booth. Byne is eating oysters. So the question is, who is in charge, Saul or me? The only way to settle it without violence was to call you.'
'At meal time,' he said. I didn’t retort, knowing that his complaint was not that I had presumed to interrupt, but that his two bright ideas had picked that moment to rendezvous.
I said sympathetically, 'They should have known better.'
'Is anyone with them?' he asked.
'No.'
'Do they know they have been seen?'
'No.'
'Could you eavesdrop?'
'Possibly, but I doubt it.'
'Very well, bring them. There’s no hurry, since I have just started dinner. Give them no opportunity for a private exchange after they see you. Have you eaten?'
'I’m full of pie and milk. I don’t know about Saul. I’ll ask him.'
'Do so. He could come and eat- No. You may need him.'
I hung up, returned to our field headquarters, and told Saul, 'He wants them. Naturally. In an hour will do, since he just started dinner. Do you know what a genius is? A genius is a guy who makes things happen without his having any idea that they are going to happen. It’s quite a trick. Our genius wanted to know if you’ve had anything to eat.'
'He would. Sure. Plenty.'
'Okay. Now the m.o. Do we take them in there or wait till they come out?'
Both procedures had pros and cons, and after discussion it was decided that Saul should go in and see how their meal was coming along, and when he thought they had swallowed enough to hold them through the hours ahead, or when they showed signs of adjourning, he would come out and wigwag me, go back in, and be near their booth when I approached.
They must have been fast eaters, for Saul hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when he came out, lifted a hand, saw me move, and went back in. I crossed over, entered, took five seconds to adjust to the noise and the smoke screen from the mob, made it to the rear, and there they were. The first Byne knew, someone was crowding him on the narrow seat, and his head jerked around. He started to say something, saw who it was, and goggled at me.
'Hi, Dinky,' I said. 'Excuse me for butting in, but I want to introduce a friend. Mr Panzer. Saul, Mrs Usher. Mr Byne. Sit down. Would you mind giving him room, Mrs Usher?'
Byne had started to rise, by reflex, but it can’t be done in a tight little booth without toppling the table. He sank back. His mouth opened, and closed. Liquid spilled on the table top from a glass Elaine Usher was
