'Well what?'
'Nothing. No,'
'Any financial transactions? Did you pay him any money or did he pay you any?' 'No.'
'Then will you explain how it happens that an empty brown leather wallet found in his pocket was covered with your fingerprints, inside and outside?'
Of course the boob had telegraphed the punch. If he hadn't, if he had fired that at me to begin with, he might have been gratified at a couple of stammers and a little hemming and hawing, but as it was he allowed me plenty of time for preparation.
I grinned at him. 'Sure I'll explain. Last evening at Os- good's house I found a wallet on the veranda. I looked in it for papers to identify the owner, and found it was Bronson's, and returned it to him. It never occurred to me to wipe off my prints.'
'Oh. You had it ready.'
'Had what ready?' I demanded innocently. 'The wallet?' 'The explanation.'
'Yeah, I carry a big stock for the country trade.' I com- pressed my lips at him. 'For God's sake use your bean. If I had croaked the guy and frisked the wallet, or if I had found him dead and frisked it, would I have left my. signature all over it? Do I strike you as being in that category? Maybe I can offer you a detail though. You say the wallet was empty. Last night when I found it, and when I returned it to him, it was bulging with a wad which I estimated roughly at 2000 bucks.'
At that point Nero Wolfe's genius went into action. I say genius not because he concocted the stratagem, for that was only quick wit, but because he anticipated the need for it far enough ahead of time to get prepared. I didn't rec- ognize it at the moment for what it was; all I saw, without paying it any attention, was that, apparently bored by a con- versation he had no part in, he slipped the pistol into his coat pocket and picked up the sprayer and began fussing with the nozzle and the pressure handle.
'You advise me to use my bean,' Barrow was saying. 'I'll try. Did you remove anything from the wallet?' 'Today? I haven't seen it. I only found it once.' 'Today or any other time. Did you?' 'No.'
'Did you take anything from Bronson at all? His person or his effects?' 'No.'
'Are you willing to submit to a search?' My brain didn't exactly reel, but the wires buzzed. For half a second five or six alternatives chased each other around in a battle royal. Meanwhile I was treating Barrow to a grin to show how serene I was, and also, out of the corner of an eye, I was perceiving that Nero Wolfe's right index finger, resting half concealed by his coat on the pressure lever, was being wiggled at me. It was a busy moment. Hoping to God I had interpreted the wiggle correctly, I told Barrow affably, 'Excuse the hesitation, but I'm trying to decide which would annoy you more, to deny you the courtesy and compel you to take steps, or let you go ahead and find nothing. Now that my gun is gone and you can't disarm me-'
The spray of nicotine and soap, full force under high pres- sure, hit him smack in the face.
He spluttered and squeaked and jumped aside, blinded. That was another busy moment. My hand shot into my breast pocket and out again and without stopping for reflection slipped my ostrich card case into the side coat pocket of District Attorney Waddell, who had stepped toward the cap- tain with an ejaculation. Except for that I didn't move. Barrow grabbed for his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. There were murmurings from onlookers. Wolfe, offering his own handkerchief, said gravely:
'A thousand apologies. Captain. My stupid carelessness. It won't hurt you, of course, but nevertheless-'
'Shut it or I'll shut it for you.' There were still pearly drops on Barrow's chin and ears, but he had his eyes wiped. He faced me and demanded savagely, 'A goddam slick trick, huh? Where did you ditch it?'
'Ditch what? You're crazy.'
'You're damn right I'm crazy.' He whirled to Waddell:
'What did he do when that fat slob sprayed my eyes shut?'
'Nothing,' said Waddell. 'He didn't do anything. He stood right here by me. He didn't move.'
'I can add my assurance,' Wolfe put in. 'If he had moved I would have seen him.'
Waddell glared at him savagely. 'You're so slick you slide, huh?'
'I have apologized, sir.'
'To hell with you. How'd you like to go along to the courthouse with us?'
Wolfe shook his head. 'You're in a huff, Captain. I don't blame you, but I doubt if it's actionable. To arrest me for accidentally spraying you with soap would seem… well, impulsive-'
Barrow turned his back on him to confront Waddell. 'You say he didn't move?'
'Goodwin? No.'
'He didn't hand Wolfe anything?'
'Positively not. He wasn't within 10 feet of him.'
'He didn't throw anything?'
'No.'
A dozen or so onlookers had collected, down the aisle in either direction. Barrow raised his voice at them: 'Did any of you see this man take anything from his pocket and hand it to the fat man or put it somewhere or throw it? Don't be afraid to speak up. I'm Captain Barrow and it's important.'
