Wolfe nodded at her. “Say it.” She swallowed. “I just want to be sure you know that I know what you're here for. You sent that man'-she flashed a glance at me which gave me a fair idea of how my personal relationship with her stood as of now-”to snoop on Louis Rony, a friend of mine, and that's what this is about.” She swallowed again. “I'll listen because my family-my mother and sister asked me to, but I think you're a cheap filthy little worm, and if I had to earn a living the way you do I'd rather starve!” It was all right, but it would have been better if she had ad libbed it instead of sticking to a script that she had obviously prepared in advance. Calling Wolfe little, which she wouldn't have done if she had worded it while looking at him, weakened it.
Wolfe grunted. “If you had to earn a living the way I do, Miss Sperling, you probably would starve. Thank you for being willing to listen, no matter why.” He glanced around. “Does anyone else have an irrepressible comment?” “Get on,” said Sperling, who was seated.
“Very well, sir. If at first I seem to wander, bear with me. I want to tell you about a man. I know his name but prefer not to pronounce it, so shall call him X. I assure you he is no figment; I only wish he were. I have little concrete knowledge of the immense properties he owns, though I do know that one of them is a high and commanding hill not a hundred miles from here on which, some years ago, he built a large and luxurious mansion. He has varied and extensive sources of income. All of them are illegal and some of them are morally repulsive.
Narcotics, smuggling, industrial and commercial rackets, gambling, waterfront blackguardism, professional larceny, blackmailing, political malfeasance-that by no means exhausts his curriculum, but it sufficiently indicates its character.
He has, up to now, triumphantly kept himself invulnerable by having the perspicacity to see that a criminal practising on a large scale over a wide area and a long period of time can get impunity only by maintaining a gap between his person and his crimes which cannot be bridged; and by having unexcelled talent, a remorseless purpose, and a will that cannot be dented or deflected.
Sperling jerked impatiently in his chair. Wolfe looked at him as a sixth-grade teacher looks at a restless boy, moved his eyes for a roundup of the whole audience, and went on: “If you think I am describing an extraordinary man, I am indeed. How, for instance, does he maintain the gap? There are two ways to catch a criminal: one, connect him with the crime itself; or two, prove that he knowingly took a share of the spoils. Neither is feasible with X. Take for illustration a typical crime-anything from a triviality like pocket picking or bag snatching up to a major raid on the public treasury. The criminal or gang of criminals nearly always takes full responsibility for the operation itself, but in facing the problem of disposal of the loot, which always appears, and of protection against discovery and prosecution, which is seldom entirely absent, he cannot avoid dealing with others. He may need a fence, a lawyer, a witness for an alibi, a channel to police or political influence-no matter what; he will almost inevitably need someone or something. He goes to one he knows, or knows about, one named A. A, finding a little difficulty, consults B, We are already, observe, somewhat removed from the crime, and B now takes us still further away by enlisting the help of C. C, having trouble with a stubborn knot in the thread, communicates with D. Here we near the terminal. D knows X and how to get to him.
“In and around New York there are many thousands of crimes each month, from mean little thefts to the highest reaches of fraud and thuggery. In a great majority of them the difficulties of the criminals are met, or are not met, either by the criminals themselves or by A or B or C. But a large number of them get up to D, and if they reach D they go to X. I don't know how many Ds there are, but certainly not many, for they are selected by X after a long and hard scrutiny and the application of severe tests, since he knows that a D once accepted by him must be backed with a fierce loyalty at almost any cost. I would guess that there are very few of them and, even so, I would also guess that if a D were impelled, no matter how, to resort to treachery, he would find that that too had been foreseen and provision had been made.” Wolfe turned a palm up. “You see where X is. Few criminals, or As or Bs or Cs, even know he exists. Those few do not know his name. If a fraction of them have guessed his name, it remains a guess. Estimates of the total annual dollar volume involved in criminal operations in the metropolitan area vary from three hundred million to half a billion. X has been in this business more than twenty years now, and the share that finds its way tortuously to him must be considerable, after deducting his pay- ments to appointed and elected persons and their staffs. A million a year? Half that? I don't know. I do know that he doesn't pay for everything he gets. Some years ago a man not far from the top of the New York Police Department did many favours for X, but I doubt if he was ever paid a cent. Blackmailing is one of X's favourite fields, and that man was susceptible.” “Inspector Drake,” Jimmy blurted.
Wolfe shook his head. “I am not giving names, and anyway I said not far from the top.” His eyes went from right to left and back again. “I am obliged for your forbearance; these details are necessary. I have told you that I know X's name, but I have never seen him. I first got some knowledge of him eleven years ago, when a police officer came to me for an opinion regarding a murder he was working on. I undertook a little inquiry through curiosity, a luxury I no longer indulge in, and found myself on a trail leading on to ground where the footing was treacherous for a private investigator. Since I had no client and was not committed, I reported what I had found to the police officer and dropped it. I then knew there was such a man as X, and something of his activities and methods, but not his name.
“During the following eight years I saw hints here and there that X was active, but I was busy with my own affairs, which did not happen to come into contact with his. Then, early in 1946, while I was engaged on a job for a client, I had a phone call. A voice I had never heard-hard, cold, precise, and finicky with its grammar- advised me to limit my efforts on behalf of my client. I replied that my efforts would be limited only by the requirements of the job I had undertaken to do. The voice insisted, and we talked some more, but only to an impasse. The next day I finished the job to my client's satisfaction, and that ended it.” Wolfe closed his fingers into fists and opened them again. “But for my own satisfaction I felt that I needed some information. The character of the job, and a remark the voice had made during our talk, raised the question whether the voice could have been that of X himself. Not wishing to involve the men I often hire to help me, and certainly not Mr Goodwin, I got men from an agency in another city. Within a month I had all the information I needed for my satisfaction, including of course X's name, and I dismissed the men and destroyed their reports. I hoped that X's affairs and mine would not again touch, but they did. Months later, a little more than a year ago, I was investigating a murder, this time for a client-you may remember it. A man named Orchard poisoned while appearing on a radio programme?” All but Sperling nodded, and Mrs Sperling said she had been listening to the programme the day it happened. Wolfe went on: “I was in the middle of that investigation when the same voice called me on the phone and told me to drop it. He was not so talkative that second time, perhaps because I informed him that I knew his name, which was of course childish of me.
I ignored his fiat. It soon transpired that Mr Orchard and a woman who had also been killed had both been professional blackmailers, using a method which clearly implied a large organization, ingeniously contrived and ably conducted.
I managed to expose the murderer, who had been blackmailed by them. The day after the murderer was sentenced another phone call came from X. He had the cheek to congratulate me on keeping my investigation within the limits he had prescribed! I told him that his prescription had been ignored. What had happened was that I had caught the murderer, which was my job, without stretching the investigation to an attack on X himself, which had been unnecessary and no part of my commitment.” Sperling had been finding it impossible to get properly settled m his chair. Now he broke training and demanded, “Damn it, can't you cut this short?” “Not and earn my fee,” Wolfe snapped. He resumed.
“That was in May of last year-thirteen months ago. In the interval I have not heard from X, because I
