The Rubber Band

I said, “Oh, I expect it. Just a matter of routine.”

He winked at me, and I turned and picked up my milk to keep from gri

It was Inspector Cramer. He asked for Wolfe and I passed the signal, and of course kept my own line. Cramer said, “What about this Clara Eox? Are you going to bring her down here, or tell me where to send for her?”

Wolfe murmured into the transmitter, “What is this, Mr. Cramer? A new tacric? I don’t get it.”

“Now listen, Wolfe!” Cramer sounded hurt and angry. “First you tell me you’ve got her hid because we tried to snatch her on a phony larceny charge. Now that that’s out of the way, do you think you’re going to pull—”

“What?” Wolfe stopped him. “The larceny charge out of the way?”

“Certainly. Don’t pretend you didn’t know it, since of course you did it, though I don’t know how. You can put over the damnedest tricks.”

“No doubt. But please tell me how you learned this.”

“Frisbie over at the District Attorney’s office. It seems that a fellow named Muir, a vice-president up at that Seaboard thing where she worked, is a friend of Frisbie’s. He’s the one that swore out the warrant. Now he’s backed up, and it’s all off, and I want to see this Miss Fox and hear her tell me that she never heard of Harlan Scovil, like all the Mike Walshes we got.”

Cramer became sarcastic. “Of course this is all news to you.”

“It is indeed.” Wolfe sent a glance at me, with a lifted brow. “Quite pleasant news. Let’s see. I suspect it would be too difficult to persuade you that I know nothing of Miss Fox’s whereabouts, so I shan’t try. It is now six-thirty, and I shall have to make some inquiries. Where can I telephone you at eight?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Cramer sounded disgusted. “I wish I’d let the Commissioner pull you in, as he wanted to. I don’t need to tell you why I hate to work against you, but have a heart. Send her down here, I won’t bite her. I was going to a show tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cramer.” Wolfe affected his sweet tone, which always made me want to kick him. “I must Erst verify your information about the larceny charge, and then I must get in touch with Miss Fox. You’ll be there until eight o’clock.”

Cramer grunted something profane, and we hung up.

“So.” I tossed down my notebook. “Mr. Muir is yellow after all, and Mr. Perry is probably coming to find out how you knew he would be. Shake-up in the Seaboard Products Corporation. But where the devil is Joh

I went to the entrance and let him in. One look at his satisfied handsomeness was enough to show that he had been marvelous all over again. As a matter of fact, Joh

I took Joh

Wolfe put in, “Is Mr. Walsh there now?”

Joh

Instead of taking the papers, Wolfe nodded at me. “Give them to Archie. Is there anyone in there besides Mr. Walsh?”

“I don’t think so. It’s mostly steel men on the job now, and they quit at five. Of course it was dark when I left, and it isn’t lit up much. There’s a wooden shed at one side with a couple of tables and a phone and so on, and a man was standing there talking to Walsh, a foreman, but he looked as if he was ready to leave. The reason I was a little late, after I got out of there I went around to Fifty-fifth to see if there was a shadow on the job, and there was. I spotted him easy. He was standing there across the street, talking to a taxi driver.”

“All right. Satisfactory. Go over the diagrams with Archie.”

Joh

I asked Joh

“I can if I eat.”

“Okay. You’ll find Saul in the kitchen. There’s a caller expected at seven and he’ll tend to the door. Stick around. Mr. Wolfe may want you to exercise your shorthand.”

Joh

“I couldn’t say.” Wolfe’s hand was resting on the desk; he was waiting for the door to close behind me, to ring for beer. “We’ll await the confirmation.”

“Shall I phone?”

“No. Bring it.”

“Okay.” I turned.

The telephone rang. From force of habit I wheeled again and stepped to my desk for it, though I saw that Wolfe had reached for his receiver. So we both heard it, a voice that sounded far away but thin and tense with excitement. “Nero Wolfe! Nero—”

I snapped, “Yes. Talking.”

“I’ve got him! Come up here … Fifty-fifth Street … Mike Walsh this is … I’ve got him covered … come up—”

It was cut off by the sound of a shot in the receiver—a sound of an explosion so loud in my ear that it might have been a young ca

I hung up and turned to Wolfe. “Well, by Godfrey. Did you hear anything?”

He nodded. “I did. And I don’t understand it.”

“Indeed. That’s a record. What’s the program, hop up there?”

Wolfe’s eyes were shut, and his lips were moving out and in. He stayed that way a minute. I stood and watched him. Finally he said, “If Walsh shot someone, who was it? But if someone shot him, why now? Why not yesterday or a week ago? In any case, you might as well go and learn what happened. It may have been merely a steel girder crashing off its perch;

there was enough noise.”

“No. That was a gun.”

“Very well. Find out. If you—ah! The doorbell. Indeed. You might attend to that first. Mr. Perry is punctual.”