keys in my pocket, so I crossed the street, entered, and mounted the two flights to Althaus's apartment. I include this in the report not because it changed anything, but because I remember so well my state of mind. Fifty-three hours had passed since I had put the gun under the box spring, and that was time enough for a healthy girl to find a dozen guns and put them somewhere else. If it wasn't there we would now be out on a limb, and a shaky one, since I had told Cramer. He knew Wolfe hadn't sent me there just on a suspicion or a hunch; he knew we knew there was something hot in that apartment, and if it was gone we were in for it. If I told him about the gun I would be admitting I had tampered with evidence; if I didn't, I would be suspected of something even worse, and good- by licenses.
You may not be interested in my state of mind, but believe me I was. At one of the front windows in Althaus's living room I pushed the drape aside and pressed my forehead against the glass so I could see the sidewalk below. That was fairly dumb, but a state of mind can make you dumb. It was 3:25. I had left Cramer only thirty-five minutes ago, and it would take them about an hour to get the warrant, so what was I expecting to see? Also the glass was cold, and I backed away a couple of inches. But I was really on edge, and now and then I put my forehead to the glass again, and after a while I did see something. Sarah Dacos came in view on the sidewalk with a big brown paper bag under her arm and turned in at the entrance. It was ten minutes to four. Seeing her didn't help my state of mind any. I had nothing against Sarah Dacos. Of course I had nothing for her either. A woman who sends a bullet through a man's pump may or may not deserve some sympathy, but she damn well can't expect a stranger to take a detour if she gets in his way while he's doing a job.
Bending my ears, I heard the door of her apartment open and close.
At a quarter past four two police cars stopped out in front.
One of them found a spot at the curb and the other one double-parked, and I recognized all three of the homicide dicks who got out and headed for Number 63. One of them, Sergeant Purley Stebbins, was probably thinking of me as he pushed the button at the door. He hates to find Nero Wolfe or me in the same county with a homicide, and here he was on an errand we were responsible for. I wanted to go to the hall to hear the conversation when he showed her the warrant, but didn't. He might smell me and it would hold up the search.
It took them not more than ten minutes to find it. They entered the apartment at 4:21, that was when I heard the door close, and Purley left the house with her at 4:43. I'm allowing twelve minutes for him to ask her a few questions after he got the gun. I stood at the window and watched Purley get in the car with her, and the car pull off, and then went and sat on the couch. Since he had taken her, the question about the gun was answered. I stayed on the couch a few minutes while my state of mind got adjusted.
I got my hat and coat and went. There was still a NYPD car out in front, waiting for the two dicks still in the apartment, and the driver might know me, but so what? I hadn't recognized him from the window, and I don't know if he knew me or not. As I walked past the car, no hurry, he gave me a hard eye, but that could have been because I had come out of that house.
I walked home. It was a little after half past five, dark, when I mounted the stoop and let myself in. I went to the kitchen, got a glass of milk, and asked Fritz, 'Has he told you that we're off the hook?'
'No.' He was inspecting carrots.
'Well, we are. Say anything you want to on the phone. Resume with your girl friends. If a stranger speaks to you, do as you please. Do you want some good advice?'
'Yes.'
'Hit him for a raise. I am. By the way, I haven't asked you about the dinner last night. Did you feed them good?'
He leveled his eyes at me. 'Archie, that is never to be mentioned. That terrible day. Epouvantable. My mind was here with you. I don't know what I did, I don't know what was served. I will forget it if possible.'
'Hewitt said on the phone that they stood and applauded you.'
'But certainly. They were polite. I know I put no truffles in the Perigourdine.'
'Good God. I'm glad I wasn't there. Okay, we'll forget it. May I have a carrot? It's wonderful with milk.'
He said certainly, and I helped myself.
I was at my desk, making out checks to pay bills, when Wolfe came down from the plant rooms. Though he hadn't said so I knew he was as much on edge as I had been, and as he went to his desk I turned my head and said, 'Relax. They got the gun.'
'How do you know?'
I told him, beginning with the conversation with Cramer and ending with the conversation with Fritz. He asked if I had got a receipt for the photograph.
'No,' I said, 'he wasn't in a mood for signing receipts. I had told him that Althaus hadn't been killed by a G-man, and that hurt.'
'No doubt. Will Mr Wragg be at his office?'
'He could be.'
'Get him.'
I turned and got the phone, but as I started to dial the doorbell rang. I cradled it and went to the hall for a look, turned, and said, 'You can ask him for the receipt.'
He took a breath. 'Is he alone?'
I told him yes and went to the front and opened the door. Cramer didn't have a carton of milk for me. He had nothing at all for me, not even a nod. When I had his coat he made for the office, and when I got there he was planted in the red leather chair and talking. I got the end of it: '… and I might have known better. God knows I should know better.' He switched to me as I sat. 'Where did you get that gun and when did you put it there?'
'Confound it,' Wolfe growled, 'you shouldn't have come. You should have waited until you had arranged your mind. Archie, get Mr Wragg.'
