“I want to — consult him. If you don’t mind, I’d rather tell him.” He smiled to take the sting off. Probably Psychological Warfare Branch.
“I’ll see. Come on in.” I made room for Jane and he followed her. After attending to the bolt I escorted them to the office, invited them to sit, and went to the phone on my desk and buzzed Wolfe’s room extension.
“Yes?” Wolfe’s voice came.
“Archie. Miss Geer is here. Also Major Emil Jensen just arrived. He is the son of Ben Jensen and prefers to tell you what he wants to consult you about.”
“Give them both my regrets. I am engaged and can see no one.”
“Engaged for how long?”
“Indefinitely. I can make no appointments for this week.”
“But you may remember—”
“Archie! Tell them that, please.” The line died.
So I told them that. They were not pleased. The Lord knows what kind of a performance Jane would have put on if she hadn’t been restrained by the presence of a stranger; as it was, she didn’t have to fumble around for pointed remarks. Jensen wasn’t indignant, but he sure was stubborn. During an extended conversation that got nowhere, I noticed a gradual increase in their inclination to cast sympathetic glances at each other, which I suppose was only natural since they were both in a state of irritation at the same person for the same reason. I thought it might help matters along, meaning they might clear out sooner, if I changed the subject, so I said emphatically, “Miss Geer, this is Major Jensen.”