“Mr. Huddleston?”
Larry was waiting for him with a fixed smile that twisted a corner of his mouth. “I told you before,” he said harshly, “that I don’t know a damn thing. That goes right down the line.”
“Indeed. May I have your watch a moment, please?”
Larry goggled at him.
“That hexagonal thing on your wrist,” Wolfe said. “May I see it a moment?”
Larry’s face displayed changes, as Brady’s had shortly before. First it was puzzled, then defiant, then he seemed to be pleased about something. He snarled:
“What do you want with my watch?”
“I want to look at it. It’s a small favor. You haven’t been very helpful so far.”
Larry, his lips twisted with the smile again, unbuckled the strap and arose to pass the watch across the desk to Wolfe, whose fingers closed over it as he said to me:
“The Huddleston folder, Archie.”