“Sure.”
“Let me have them, please. Confound it.” He sighed again. “Saturday, and tomorrow’s Wednesday. Like a warmed-over meal.” He came erect and his face brightened. “I wonder how Fritz is making out with that fish.”
He left his chair and headed for the hall and the kitchen.
II
Wednesday morning all the air in Manhattan was conditioned — the wrong way. It was no place for penguins. On my way to Foley Square my jacket was beside me on the seat of the taxi, but when I had paid the driver and got out I put it on. Sweat or no sweat, I had to show the world that a private detective can be tough enough to take it.
When, after some waiting, I got admitted to Wengert’s big corner room I found him in his shirt sleeves with his tie and collar loosened. He got up to shake hands and invited me to sit. We exchanged remarks.
“I haven’t seen you,” I told him, “since you got elevated here. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I notice you’ve got brass in your voice, but I guess that can’t be helped. Mr. Wolfe sends his regards.”
“Give him mine.” His voice warmed up a little, just perceptibly. “I’ll never forget how he came through on that mercury thing.” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “What can I do for you, Goodwin?”