'But there's no time! What do you do next?'
It took another five minutes to get rid of him, but finally he went. After escorting him to the door I went back to my desk, got at the typewriter, and resumed where I had left off on my notes of the Frazee interview. They should all be done before I went to bed, and it was after ten o'clock, so I hammered away. There were one or two remarks I had for Wolfe, and several questions I wanted to ask, but I was too busy, and besides, he was deep in a book. When I returned after seeing Heery out he had already been to the bookshelves and was back at his desk, with Beauty for Ashes, by Christopher La Farge, opened to his place, and the wall light turned on. That may not be the way you go about settling down to work on a hard job with a close deadline, but you're not a genius.
I had finished Frazee and was well along with Wheelock when the doorbell rang. As I started for the hall I offered five to one that it was LBA and their lawyer, disregarding Wolfe's demand to be let alone, but I was wrong. When I flipped the switch of the stoop light, one glance through the panel was enough. Stepping back into the office, I told Wolfe:
'Too bad to disturb you--'
'No one,' he growled. 'No one on earth.'
'Okay. It's Cramer.'
He lowered the book, with his lips tightened. Slowly and neatly, he dog-eared a page and closed the book,on the desk. 'Very well,' he said grimly. 'Let him in.'
The doorbell rang again.
Chapter 10
Wolfe and Inspector Cramer of Manhattan Homicide West have never actually come to blows, though there have been times when Cramer's big red seamy face has gone almost white, and his burly broad shoulders have seemed to shrink, under the strain. I can always tell what the tone is going to be, at least for the kickoff, by. the way he greets me when I let him in. If he calls me Archie, which doesn't happen often, he wants something he can expect to get only as a favor and has determined to forget old sores and keep it friendly. If he calls me Goodwin and asks how I am, he still is after a favor but thinks he is entitled to it. If he calls me Goodwin but shows no interest in my health, he has come for what he would call co-operation and intends to get it. If he calls me nothing at all, he's ready to shoot from the hip and look out.
That time it wasn't Archie, but he asked how I was, and after he got into the red leather chair he accepted an offer of beer from Wolfe, and apologized for coming so late without phoning. As Fritz served the beer I went to the kitchen to get a glass of milk for myself. When I returned Cramer had a half-empty glass in his hand and was licking foam from his lips.
'I hope,' he said, 'that I didn't interrupt anything important.' He was gruff, but he would be gruff saying his prayers.
'I'm on a case,' Wolfe said, 'and I was working.' Beauty for Ashes, by Christopher La Farge, is a novel written in verse, the scene of the action being Rhode Island. I don't read novels in verse, but I doubt if there's anything in it about perfume contests, or even any kind of cosmetics. If it were Ashes for Beauty that might have been different.
'Yeah,' Cramer said. 'The Dahlmann murder.'
'No, sir.' Wolfe poured beer. 'I'm aware of your disapproval of private detectives concerning themselves with murders in your jurisdiction-heaven knows I should be--and it pleases me to know that I'm not incurring it. I am not investigating a murder.''
'That's fine. Would you mind telling me who your client is? This case you're on?'
'As a boon?'
'I don't care what you call it, just tell me.'
'There's no reason why I shouldn't, in confidence of course. A firm, an advertising agency, called Lippert, Buff and Assa.'
I raised my brows. Evidently Cramer wasn't the only one in favor of favors. Wolfe was being almost neighborly.
'I've heard of them,' Cramer said. 'Just today, in fact. That's the firm Louis Dahlmann was with.'
'That's right.'
'When did they hire you?'
'Today.'
'Uh-huh. And also today four people have come to see you, not counting your clients, who were at a dinner meeting with Dahlmann last night, and Goodwin has called on another one at his hotel. But you're not investigating a murder?'
'No, sir.'
'Nuts.'
It looked as if the honeymoon was over and before long fur would be flying, but Cramer took the curse off his lunge with a diversion. He drank beer, and put his empty glass down. 'Look,' he said, 'I've heard you do a lot of beefing about people being rational. Okay. If anyone who knew you, and knew who has been coming here today-- if he didn't think you were working on the murder would he be rational? You know damn well he wouldn't. I'm being
