except to get in the car and start home. However, it was well established that when that fit took him he was not to be interrupted on any account, so I went to a window for another look out. The trooper was still on post, with his back to me. The sun had gone behind the trees, maybe even below the rim, and dusk was coming on. I couldn’t see the light going if I kept my eyes on one spot, but I could if I kept them there for thirty seconds, then shifted to another spot for thirty seconds, and then back again. I had caught on to that out in Ohio about the time I was catching my first shiner.
Wolfe’s voice turned me around. “What time is it?” I glanced at my wrist. “Twenty minutes to eight.” He had straightened up and was stretching his eyes open. “I want to make a phone call. Where?”
“There’s one in the big room, as you know. There must be extensions, surely one in Bragan’s room, but I haven’t seen any. I understand that phone calls are being permitted, but they’re monitored. There’s a cop in the big room, and not only that, you can bet they’ve tapped the line outside.”
“I must phone. It’s essential.” He put his hands on the chair arms and levered himself up. “What is Nathaniel Parker’s home number?”
“Lincoln three four-six-one-six.”
“Come on.” He headed for the door.
I followed him down the hall and into the big room. The trooper was there, going around switching lamps on. He gave us a glance but no words. On the table with the phone there was a tray with an empty plate and coffee cup, so apparently he had been foddered. When Wolfe picked up the phone he moved in our direction, but uttered no protest and didn’t draw his gun. Wolfe had taken out his notebook and opened it on the table, and from across the table the trooper focused on it, but all he saw was a blank page.
Wolfe was speaking: “Person-to-person call to a New York City number. This is Whiteface seven- eight-oh-eight. My name is Nero Wolfe. I wish to speak to Mr. Nathaniel Parker in New York, at Lincoln three four- six-one-six.”
I thought the trooper looked as if he would enjoy a bone, so I told him, “Parker’s our lawyer. A reputable member of the bar and a very fine man. He’s got me out of jail three times.”
He was in no humor for conversation. He stood. I stood. At that time of evening it didn’t take long for the call to get through, and soon Wolfe was telling the receiver, “Mr. Parker?… Yes, Nero Wolfe. I hope I didn’t interrupt your dinner… I’m calling from Mr. Bragan’s lodge in the Adirondacks… Yes, of course you’ve heard… I need some information from you,
He went on. The trooper was up against it. The phone calls were probably being recorded out at the tap, but no doubt he was supposed to stand by and note the substance, and he couldn’t note meaningless sounds. The changes on his face kept me informed. First, he didn’t know French, that was obvious. Next, he had an impulse to reach and cut the connection – he even started a hand out – but voted it down. Next, he tried looking intelligent and superior, indicating that he understood it perfectly, but gave it up when he glanced at me and met my eye. Next, he decided to pretend that there was no problem involved at all, that he was standing there only to see that Wolfe didn’t twist the phone cord. Going through all the phases took a lot of time, a quarter of an hour or more, and he was doing pretty well with the last one when Wolfe did him a favor by getting out his pencil and starting to write in the notebook. That gave the cop something to look at, and was a big relief to both of us, though I doubted if he could read Wolfe’s fine small handwriting upside down at a distance of five feet. I was closer, and, stretching my neck, saw that he was writing the same lingo he was speaking. Since I don’t know French either, I just looked intelligent.
Wolfe filled a page of the notebook and part of another, and then suddenly went back to English. “Thank you very much, Mr. Parker. Satisfactory. I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but it was urgent… No, I have nothing to add and nothing more to ask… Yes, I shall, but I doubt if I’ll need you again. Good-by, sir.”
He hung up, put the notebook in his pocket, turned to me, and opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get it out. The door to the veranda swung open and people entered – first District Attorney Colvin, then a medium-sized guy with a round red face and big ears, and last Sheriff Dell.
Colvin, seeing us, stopped and turned. “That’s Nero Wolfe. Wolfe and Goodwin.” He came on. “Wolfe, this is Mr. Herman Jessel, attorney general of the state of New York. I’ve told him how things stand, and he’ll talk with you first. Now.”
“Excellent,” Wolfe declared. “I’m ready, and it shouldn’t take long. But not privately. If I am to disclose the murderer of Mr. Leeson, as I now intend, it must be in the presence of everyone concerned. If you’ll please have them gathered here?”
They goggled at him. The sheriff said something. Colvin’s specs slipped to the tip of his nose, but he ignored them.
Jessel was confronting Wolfe. “Will you repeat that, please?”
“It was clear, I thought. I am prepared to identify the murderer. I will do so only in the presence of the others. I will say nothing whatever, answer no questions, except with them present. And when they are here, all of them, and of course you gentlemen too, I must first speak to the Secretary of State on the telephone. If he is not in Washington he must be located. I assure you, gentlemen, it is useless to start barking at me or haul me off somewhere; I’ll be mute. There is no acceptable way to proceed other than the one I suggested.”
The sheriff and the DA looked at each other. Jessel looked at Wolfe. “I’ve met you once before, Mr. Wolfe. You’ve probably forgotten.”
“No, sir, I haven’t.”
“And I know your record, of course. You say you can identify the murderer. With evidence?”
“To convict, no. To indict, yes. To convince all who hear me, including you, beyond question.”
“What’s this about the Secretary of State?”
“I must begin by speaking to him. The reason will be apparent when you hear me.”
“All right. We can reach him. But I have a must too. I must first hear from you privately what you’re going to say.”
