better than twenty-five. On Eleventh you can make twelve or more blocks on a light if you sprint, and we sprinted. At Fifty-sixth we turned east, had fair luck crosstown, and turned left on Fifth Avenue. I told Herb to quit crawling, and he told me to get out and walk. When we reached Eighty-sixth Street I had
45
the door open before the wheels stopped, hopped out, and crossed the avenue to the park side.
Bill Doyle was there. He was the pale gaunt type, from reading too much about horses and believing it. I asked him, 'Anything new?'
'No. I been here waiting.'
'Can you show me Saul's bush without rousing the dog?'
'I can if he's still there. It's quite a ways.'
'Within a hundred yards of them take to the grass. They mustn't hear our footsteps stopping. Let's go.'
He entered the park by the paved path, and I trailed. The first thirty paces it was upgrade, curving right. Under a park light two young couples had stopped to have an argument, and we detoured around them. The path leveled and straightened under overhanging branches of trees. We passed another light. A man swinging a cane came striding from the opposite direction and on by. The path turned left, crossed an open space, and entered shrubbery. A little further on there was a fork, and Doyle stopped.
'They're down there a couple of hundred feet,' he whispered, pointing to the left branch of the fork. 'Or they were. Saul's over that way.'
'Okay, I'll lead. Steer me by touch.'
I stepped onto the grass and started alongside the right branch of the fork. It was uphill a little, and I had to duck under branches. I hadn't gone far when Doyle tugged at my sleeve, and when I turned he pointed to the left. 'That bunch of bushes there,' he whispered. 'The big one in the middle. That's where he went, but I can't see him.'
My sight is twenty-twenty, and my eyes had got adjusted to the night, but for a minute I couldn't pick him up. When I did the huddled hump under the bush was perfectly plain. A ripple ran up my spine. Since Saul was still there, Heath was still there too, under his eye, and almost certainly the woman with the dog was there also. Of course I couldn't see them, on account of the bushes. I considered what to do. I wanted to confront them together, before they separated, but if Saul was close enough to hear their words I didn't want to bust it 46
up. The most attractive idea was to sneak across to Saul's bush and join him, but I might be heard, if not by them by the dog. Standing there, peering toward Saul's bush, concentrated, with Doyle beside me, I became aware of footsteps behind me, approaching along the path, but supposed it was just a late park stroller and didn't turn--until the footsteps stopped and a voice came.
'Looking for tigers?'
I wheeled. It was a flatfoot on park patrol. 'Good evening, officer,' I said respectfully. 'Nope, just getting air.'
'The air's the same if you stay on the path.' He approached on the grass, looking not at us but past us, in the direction we had been gazing. Suddenly he grunted, quickened his step, and headed straight for Saul's bush. Apparently he had good eyes too. There was no time to consider. I muttered fast at Doyle's ear, 'Grab his cap and run--jump, damn it!'
He did. I will always love him for it, especially for not hesitating a tenth of a second. Four leaps got him to the cop, a swoop of his hand got the cap, and away he scooted, swerving right to double back to the path. I stood in my tracks. The cop acted by reflex. Instead of ignoring the playful prank and proceeding to inspect the object under the bush, or making for me, he bounded after Doyle and his cap, calling a command to halt. Doyle, reaching the path and streaking along it, had a good lead, but the cop was no snail. They disappeared. All that commotion changed the situation entirely. I made it double quick to the left across the grass until I reached the other fork of the path, and kept going. Around a bend, there they were--Heath seated on a bench with a woman, a big collie lying at their feet. When I stopped in front of them the collie rose to its haunches and made a noise, asking a question. I had a hand in a coat pocket.
'Tell the dog it's okay,' I suggested. 'I hate to shoot a dog.'
'Why should you--' Heath started, and stopped. He stood up.
'Yeah, it's me,' I said. 'Representing Nero Wolfe. It won't
47
help if you scream, there's two of us. Come on out, Saul. Watch the dog, it may not wait for orders.'
There was a sound from the direction of the bushes, and in a moment Saul appeared, circling around to join me on the right. The dog made a noise that was more of a whine than a growl, but it didn't move. The woman put a hand on its head. I asked Saul, 'Could you hear what they said?'
'Most of it. I heard enough.'
'Was it interesting?'
'Yes.'
'This is illegal,' Heath stated. He was half choked with indignation or something. 'This is an invasion?'
'Nuts. Save it; you may need it. I have a cab parked at the Eighty-sixth-Street entrance. Four of us with the dog will just fill it comfortably. Mr. Wolfe is expecting us. Let's go.'
'You're armed,' Heath said. 'This is assault with a deadly weapon.'
'I'm going home,' the woman said, speaking for the first time. 'I'll telephone Mr. Wolfe, or my husband will, and we'll see about this. I brought my dog to the park, and this gentleman and I happened to get into conversation. This is outrageous. You won't dare to harm my dog.'
She got up, and the collie was instantly erect by her, against her knee.
