attention?”
He finished a paragraph and looked up. “No. Fred called at eleven and reported no progress. Johnny didn’t call.”
“Shall I save mine for morning?”
“No. That woman will be here. Did you get anything?”
“I don’t know.” I sat. “She’s either a featherbrain or a damn good imitation. She starts every other sentence with ‘Oh.’ You’d walk out on her in three minutes. She drinks four parts ginger ale and one part gin.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Good heavens. Did you?”
“No. But I had to watch her. Two items. One day last October a button on his coat was loose and she offered to sew it on for him. While she was doing so some papers fell out of the pocket and when she picked them up she glanced at them. So she says; papers can fall out of pockets or they can be taken out. Anyhow, she was looking at one of the papers which was a list of names and figures when he suddenly entered from his room, snatched the paper from her, and gave her hell. He slapped her, but that’s off the record because she doesn’t want it to be in the article, and besides he apologized and bought her champagne at dinner that evening. She says he was so mad he turned white.”
“And the names and figures?”
“I hoped you would ask that. She can’t remember. She thinks the figures were amounts of money, but she’s not sure.”
“Hardly a bonanza.”
“No, sir. Neither is the other item, but it’s more recent. One day between Christmas and New Year’s he asked her how she would like to take a trip to South America with him. He had to go on business and would need a secretary. I should mention that he had been trying to take liberties and she hadn’t allowed it. She liked the idea of a trip to South America, but, knowing that what are liberties up here are just a matter of course down there, she told him she’d think it over. He said there wouldn’t be much time for thinking it over because the business matters wouldn’t wait. He also said they were confidential matters and made her promise she wouldn’t mention the proposed trip to anyone. She put him off and hadn’t said yes or no by January third, the day he died. So she says. I think she said yes. She is not a good liar. I didn’t mention that her mind soars.”
“Soars where?”
I waved a hand. “Just soars. You would enjoy her.”
“No doubt.” He looked up at the clock. Past midnight. “Has she a job?”
“Oh, yes. With an import firm downtown. Apparently no connection.”
“Very well.” He pushed his chair back, yawned, and got up. “Johnny should have reported. Confound him, he’s too set on a master stroke.”
“Instructions for morning?”
“No. I’ll need you here for developments. If any. Good night.”
He went, to the elevator, and I went, to the stairs. Up in my room, undressing, I decided to dream of Selma Molloy-something like her being trapped in a blazing building, at an upper window, afraid to jump for the firemen’s net. I would march up, wave the firemen aside, stretch my arms, and down she would come, light as a feather, into my embrace. The light as a feather part was important, since otherwise there might have been some bones broken. I didn’t consider this reneging on my decision, because you can’t hold a man responsible for his dreams. But I didn’t follow through on it. No dreams at all. In the morning I didn’t even remember that I had been going to dream, but I never do remember anything in the morning until I have washed and showered and shaved and dressed and made my way down to the kitchen. With the orange juice the fog begins to lift, and with the coffee it’s all clear. It’s a good thing Wolfe breakfasts in his room, on a tray taken up by Fritz, and then goes up to the plant rooms. If we met before breakfast he would have fired me or I would have quit long ago.
Thursday started busy and kept it up. There were three letters from P.H.’s, answers to the ad, in the morning mail, and I had to answer them. There was a phone call from Omaha, from James R. Herold. His wife was impatient. I told him we had five men working on the case, including Saul Panzer and me, and we would report as soon as there was anything worth reporting. Fred Durkin came in person to confer. He had visited five establishments with phone booths within two blocks of the 52nd Street house, and had found no one who remembered anything about any user of the phone around nine o’clock on January 3. The soda jerk who had been on duty at the drugstore that evening had left and gone somewhere in Jersey. Should Fred find him? I told him yes and wished him luck.
Orrie Cather phoned from Freyer’s office to ask if we had arranged with Mrs. Molloy to hire a lawyer to establish her position legally, and I told him no, that would be done when she came to see Wolfe.
Lon Cohen of the
I couldn’t blame him, but neither could I straighten him out. I told him the note Saul had brought him must have been a forgery, and promised to give him a front-page spread as soon as we had one.
Selma Molloy came on the dot at eleven. I let her in and took her coat, a quiet gray plaid, in the hall, and was putting it on a hanger when the elevator bumped to a stop and Wolfe emerged. He stopped, facing her, inclined his head nearly an inch when I pronounced her name, turned, and made for the office, and I convoyed her in and to the red leather chair. He sat and leveled his eyes at her, trying not to scowl. He hates to work, and this would probably be not only an all-day session, but all day with a woman. Then he had an idea. His head turned and he spoke.
