I had told them the Keyes case had knocked on our door and we had five suspects for clients, and that was all. Wolfe had not seen fit to tell me what their errands would be, so I was entertaining at cards instead of summarizing the notebooks for them. At eleven sharp we ended the game, and Orrie and I shelled out to Saul, as usual, and a few minutes later the door from the hall opened and Wolfe entered. He greeted the two hired hands, got himself installed behind his desk, rang for beer, and asked me, “You’ve explained things to Saul and Orrie, of course?”
“Certainly not. For all I knew it’s classified.”
He grunted and told me to get Inspector Cramer. I dialed the number and had more trouble getting through than usual, finally had Cramer and signaled to Wolfe, and, since I got no sign to keep off, I stayed on. It wasn’t much of a conversation.
“Mr. Cramer? Nero Wolfe.”
“Yeah. What do you want?”
“I’m sorry I was busy last evening. It’s always a pleasure to see you. I’ve been engaged in the matter of Mr. Keyes’ death, and it will be to our mutual interest for you to let me have a little routine information.”
“Like what?”
“To begin with, the name and number of the mounted policeman who saw Mr. Keyes in the park at ten minutes past seven that morning. I want to send Archie—”
“Go to hell.” The connection went.
Wolfe hung up, reached for the beer tray which Fritz had brought in, and told me, “Get Mr. Skinner of the District Attorney’s office.”