'Lookit,' I said, 'I'd just as soon go on if you really want to, but why do you want to? It's more fun when I know what it's for.'
'You double-crossing sonofabitch,' he said, not panting.
'Okay, but it's still vague. Who did I cross? Pitcairn? The daughter? Who?'
'You made him think you were with him and then you helped get him framed.'
'Oh. You think we crossed Andy?'
'I know damn well you did.'
'Listen, brother.' I let my guard down. 'You know what you are? You're the answer to a prayer. You're what I wanted for Christmas. You're dead wrong, but you're wonderful. Come in and have a talk with Nero Wolfe.'
'I wouldn't talk with that crook.'
'You were looking at him through a window. What for?'
'I wanted to see what you were up to.'
'That's easy. You should have asked. We were up to absolutely nothing. We were sunk up to our ears. We were phut. We were and are crazy for Andy. We wanted to take him home with us and pamper him, and they wouldn't let us.'
'That's a goddam lie.'
'Very well. Then you ought to come in and tell Mr.
Wolfe to his face that he's a double-crosser, a crook, and a liar. You don't often get such a chance. Unless you're afraid. What are you afraid of?'
'Nothing,' he said, and wheeled and marched to the kitchen door, opened it, and went in. I was right behind.
Wolfe's voice boomed from the other room. 'Archie! Where the devil -'
We were with him. He had finished with the phone. He shot a glance at Gus and then at me.
'Where did you get him?'
I waved a hand. 'Oh, out there. I've started deliveries.'
VI
IT took a good ten minutes to convince Gus Treble that we were playing it straight, and though Wolfe used a lot of his very best words and tones, it wasn't words that put it over, it was logic. The major premise was that Wolfe wanted Andy in his plant rooms, quick. The minor was that Andy couldn't be simultaneously in Wolfe's plant rooms and in the coop at White Plains, or in the death house at Sing Sing. Gus didn't have to have the conclusion written out for him, but even so it took ten minutes. The last two were consumed by my recital, verbatim, of the conversation with Joseph G. and Sybil just before leaving the greenhouse.
Gus was seated at the desk, turned to face Wolfe, and I was straddling a straight-backed chair.
'Last July,' Gus said, 'that Noonan beat up a friend of mine, for nothing.'
Wolfe nodded. 'There you are. A typical uniformed blackguard. I take it, Mr. Treble, that you share my opinion that Mr. Krasicki didn't kill that woman. And I heard you tell those men that you didn't, so I won't pester you about it. But though you answered freely and fully all questions concerning yourself, you were manifestly more circumspect regarding others. I understand that. You have a job here and your words were being recorded. But it won't do for me. I want to get Mr. Krasicki out of jail, and I can do so only by furnishing a replacement for him. If you want to help you can, but not unless you forget your job, discard prudence, and tell me all you know about these people. Well, sir?'
Gus was scowling, which made him look old enough to vote. In the artificial light he looked paler than he had outdoors in the morning, and his rainbow shirt looked brighter.
'It's a good job,' he muttered, 'and I love it.'
'Yes,' Wolfe agreed sympathetically, 'Mr. Krasicki told me you were competent, intelligent, and exceptionally talented.'
'He did?'
'Yes, sir. He did.'
'Goddam it.' Gus's scowl got blacker. 'What do you want to know?'
'About these people. First, Miss Lauer. I gathered that you were not yourself attracted by her.'
'Me? Not that baby. You heard what I told them. She was out for a sucker.'
'You mean out for money?'
'No, not money. I don't think so. Hell, you know the kind. She liked to see males react, she got a kick out of it. She liked to see females react too. Even Neil Imbrie, old enough to be her father, you should have seen
