'Yes, sir.'
'Was it perhaps your memory of something unpleasant that happened the day you saw the golf club?'
Silence again. I saw that something was wrong. Wolfe hadn't asked the last question as if it meant anything. I knew the shades of the tones of his voice, and I knew he wasn't interested; at least, not in that question. Something had him off on another trail. All at once he shot another question at her in another tone.
'When did you decide to say 'Yes, sir,' to anything I might ask you?'
No answer; but without waiting Wolfe went on: 'Miss Fiore, I would like to make you understand this. My last question had nothing whatsoever to do with a golf club or with Carlo Maffei. Don't you see that? So if you have decided to reply nothing but 'Yes, sir,' to anything I may ask about Carlo Maffei that will be all right. You have an absolute right to do that because that is what you decided to do. But if I ask you about other things you have no right to say 'Yes, sir,' then, because that is not what you decided to do. About other things you should talk just as anyone would. So, when you decided to say nothing but 'Yes, sir,' to me was it on account of anything that Carlo Maffei had done?'
Anna was looking hard at him, right at his eye. It was clear that she wasn't suspecting him or fighting against him, she was merely trying to understand him. She looked and he looked back. After a minute of that she said: 'No, sir.'
'Ah! Good. It was not on account of anything he had done. Then it had nothing to do with him, so it is all right for you to tell me anything about it that I may ask. You see that of course. If you have decided to tell me nothing of Carlo Maffei I won't ask you. But this other business. Did you decide to say 'Yes, sir,' to Mr. O'Grady, the man that came and asked you question yesterday morning?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Why did you do that?'
She frowned, but said, 'Because something happened.'
'Good. What happened?'
She shook her head.
'Come, Miss Fiore.' Wolfe was quiet. 'There is no reason on earth why you shouldn't tell me.'
She turned her head to look at me, and then back at him again. After a moment she said, 'I'll tell Mr. Archie.'
'Good. Tell Mr. Archie.'
She spoke to me. 'I got a letter.'
Wolfe shot a glance at me and I took it up. 'You got a letter yesterday?'
She nodded. 'Yesterday morning.'
'Who was it from?'
'I don't know. There was no name, it was on typewriter, and on the envelope it said only Anna and the address, not the rest of my name. Mrs. Ricci gets the mail from the box and she brought it to me but I didn't want to open it where she was because I never get a letter. I went downstairs where I sleep and opened it.'
'What did it say?'
She looked at me a moment without replying, and then suddenly she smiled, a funny smile that made me feel queer so that it wasn't easy to look at her. But I kept my eyes on hers. Then she said, 'I'll show you what was in it, Mr. Archie,' and reached down and pulled her skirt up above her knee, shoved her hand down inside of her stocking, and brought it out again with something in it. I stared as she unrolled five twenty-dollar bills and spread them out for me to see.
'You mean that was in the letter?'
She nodded. 'One hundred dollars.'
'So I see. But there was something typewritten.'
'Yes. It said that if I would never tell anyone anything about Mr. Maffei or anything he ever did I could keep the money. But if I would not do that, if I told about him, I would have to burn it. I burned the letter, but I will not burn the money. I will keep it.'
'You burned the letter?'
'Yes.'
'And the envelope?'
'Yes.'
'And you think you won't tell anyone about Mr. Maffei or about that golf club?'
'I never will.'
I looked at her. Wolfe's chin was on his chest, but he was looking at her too. I got up from my chair. 'Well, of all the damn fairy stories-'
'Archie! Apologize.'
'But good heavens-'
'Apologize.'
