'Percy Ludlow. My age, and a good deal like me: courteous, gifted, of distinguished appear-'
'You say my-she seemed to be bored. Do you mean to imply-is she stupid?'
'Oh, no. I mean it. Maybe she's a little complicated, but she's not stupid.'
Silence. No talk. It lasted so long that I finally said, 'Hallo, you there?'
'Yes. Get her and bring her here. I want to see her.'
'Yeah, I thought so. I expected that. It's a perfectly natural feeling and does you credit, but that's why I phoned, to explain that I asked her if she had a message for you; and she said no; and I said she ought to drop in on you to say hallo; and she said she would some day, and now she's in there crossing blades with Percy-'
'Wait till she's through and bring her.'
'Do you mean that?'
'I do.'
'I may have to carry her or-'
He hung up, which is a trick I detest.
I went to the fountain and got a glass of grapefruit juice, and while drinking it considered persuasions to use on her short of force, but developed nothing satisfactory, and then strolled back along 48th Street to the scene of operations.
Nikola Miltan and his wife were the only ones in the office. It looked to me as if she had been headed for the door when I entered, but when I took off my hat and coat and put them on the rack, explaining that I wanted to see Miss Tormic when she was disengaged, apparently she changed her mind and decided to stick around. Miltan invited me to have a chair, and I sat down not far from the desk where he was, while his wife opened a door of the big glass cabinet and began rearranging things which didn't need it.
'I have met Mr Nero Wolfe,' Miltan offered politely.
I nodded. 'So I understand.'
'He is a remarkable man. Remarkable.'
'Well, I know of one guy that would agree with you.'
'Only one?'
'At least one. Mr Wolfe.'
'Ah. A joke.' He laughed politely. 'I imagine there are many others. In fact-what is it, Jeanne?'
His wife had uttered a foreign exclamation, of surprise or maybe dismay. 'The col de mart,' she told him. 'It's not here. Did you remove it?'
'I did not. Of course not. It was there-I'm sure-'
He got up and trotted over to the cabinet, and I arose and wandered after him. Together they stared at a spot. He stretched, and then ducked, to inspect the other shelves.
'No,' she said, 'it's not there. It's gone. There is nothing else gone. I was in favour long ago of having a lock put on-'
'But, my dear.' Miltan looked defensive. 'There is no sensible reason that could possibly exist why anyone would want to take that col de mart. It was a nice curiosity, but of no particular value.'
'What's a col de mort?' I asked.
'Oh, just a little thing.'
'What kind of a little thing?'
'Oh, a little thing-look.' He put an arm through the open door of the cabinet and placed a finger upon the point of the йpйe which was displayed there. 'See? It's blunt.'
'I see it is.'
'Well, once in Paris, years ago, a man wanted to kill another man, and he made a little thing with a sharp point, very cleverly, which he could fit over the end of an йpйe.' He took the weapon from the shelf and dangled it in his hand. 'Then, with the thing fitted on, he made a thrust in quarte-'
He made a lunge at an imaginary victim in my neighbourhood, so unexpected and incredibly swift that I side-stepped and nearly tripped myself up, and was perfectly willing to concede him the championship. Just as swiftly he was back to normal position.
'So.' He smiled, and returned the weapon to its place. 'A thrust in quarte gets the heart, theoretically, but that time it was not theory. A member of the police who was a friend of mine gave me the little thing as a curiosity. The newspapers called it col de mort. Neck-no, not neck. Collar. Collar of death. Because it fitted the end of the йpйe like a collar. It was amusing to have it.'
'It's gone,' said his wife shortly.
'I hope not gone.' Miltan frowned. 'There is no reason for it to be gone. There has been enough talk of stealing around here. We will find out. We will ask people.'
'I hope you find it,' I told him. 'It sounds cute. Speaking of asking people, I was about to ask you if it would be okay for me to have a little chat with whoever it is that cleans up the fencing rooms.'
'Why… what for?'
