When Cramer is boiling it isn't easy to stop the steam, but that did, the name Wragg. I didn't see him clamp his jaw and glare at Wolfe, I only knew he did, because my back was turned as I dialed LES-7700. I was supposing it would take patience and staying power to get through to the top, but not at all. Apparently word had been passed down that a call from Nero Wolfe had priority, which was a good sign. In no time the smooth low- pitched drawl was in my ear, and in Wolfe's too, for he had picked up his phone. I stayed on.
'Wolfe?'
'Yes. Mr Wragg?'
'Yes.'
'I'm ready for that bullet. Now. As we agreed. Bring the bullet, and I surrender the credentials if you are not satisfied within a month. I think it will be sooner, much sooner.'
No hesitation. 'I'll come.'
'Now?'
'Yes.'
As we hung up Wolfe asked me, 'How long will it take him?' I said twenty minutes or less, that he wouldn't have to scout for a taxi, and Wolfe turned to Cramer. 'Mr Wragg will be here in twenty minutes. I suggest-'
'Wragg of the FBI?'
'Yes. I suggest that you postpone your onslaught until he arrives-and, perhaps, goes-and meanwhile I'll describe an operation which has been concluded. I have told Mr Wragg that I will make no public disclosure of it, but you are not the public, and since you made it possible I owe it to you. But it will help in dealing with him if you will answer two questions. Was a gun found in Miss Dacos's apartment?'
'Certainly. I just asked Goodwin when he put it there, and I'm going to ask him again.'
'You may not after we finish with Mr Wragg. Was it the gun Morris Althaus had a permit for?'
'Yes.'
'That will simplify matters greatly. Now that operation…'
He described it, and he reports almost as well as I do-better, if you like long words. There was no point in leaving Hewitt's name out since the FBI knew all about it, and he gave all the details. When he came to the scene in the office, with the two G-men completely surrounded by guns and him dropping their credentials in his drawer, I saw something I had never seen before and will probably never see again, a broad smile on the face of Inspector Cramer. And it was there again when, reporting the conversation with Wragg that morning, Wolfe came to where he had told him that his word was much better. I was thinking that he might even pop up to go to Wolfe and pat him on the back when the doorbell rang and I went to answer it.
I have mentioned that Wragg was fazed when Wolfe asked him to bring the bullet, but that was nothing compared to the jolt he got when he walked into the office and saw Cramer. I was behind him and couldn't see his face, but I saw him go stiff and his fingers curl. Cramer, on his feet, started a hand out but took it back.
As I brought a yellow chair Wragg spoke to Wolfe. 'Your word? Better than mine? You goddam skunk!'
'Sit down,' Wolfe said. 'Whether my word is better or not, my brain is. I don't judge a situation before I understand it. Mr Cramer is-'
'All agreements are off.'
'Pfui. You're not a donkey. Mr Cramer is regretting that he surmised that a member of your bureau was a murderer. If you sit down and compose yourself he may tell you so.'
'I have no apologies for anybody,' Cramer growled. He turned his head to make sure the red leather chair was still there, and sat. 'Anyone who withholds information-'
'No,' Wolfe snapped. 'If you gentlemen must contend, that's your affair, but not in my office. I want to resolve a situation, not tangle it. I like eyes at a level, Mr Wragg. Be seated.'
'Resolve it how?'
'Sit down and I'll tell you.'
He didn't want to. He looked at Cramer, he even looked at me, like a general surveying a battlefield and watching his flanks. He didn't like it, but he sat.
Wolfe turned a palm up. 'Actually,' he said, 'the situation isn't tangled at all. We all want the same thing. I want to get rid of an obligation. You, Mr Wragg, want it made manifest that your men are not criminally implicated in a murder. You, Mr Cramer, want to identify and bring to account the person who killed Morris Althaus. It couldn't be simpler. You, Mr Wragg, give Mr Cramer the bullet you have in your pocket and tell him where it came from. You, Mr Cramer, have a comparison made of that bullet with one fired from the gun which was taken this afternoon from the apartment of Sarah Dacos, and along with other evidence which no doubt your men are securing now, that will settle it. There is no-'
'I haven't said I have a bullet in my pocket.'
'Nonsense. I advise you to pull in your horns, Mr Wragg. Mr Cramer has good reason to suppose that you have on your person an essential item of evidence in a homicide which occurred in his jurisdiction. Under the statutes of the State of New York he may legally search you, here and now, and get it. Is that correct, Mr Cramer?'
'Yes.'
'But,' Wolfe told Wragg, 'that shouldn't be necessary. You do have a brain. Obviously it is to your interest and that of your bureau that you give Mr Cramer that bullet.'
