I grunted. “Where did you find it?”
“You saw me find it.” Joe sounded either irritated or something else. “In that calendar on Blaney’s desk.”
“Oh, that’s Blaney’s desk. How many, just this one?”
“No, several.” Joe went to Blaney’s desk and then came back to us. “Three more. Four altogether.”
I took them from him and compared. They were all the same. I regarded Helen’s attractive face. She looked interested. I regarded Joe’s handsome face if you didn’t count the ears. He looked more interested.
“I think,” I said, “that it was one of these things that was in the cigar that Poor never smoked. What do you think?”
Joe said, “I think we can damn soon find out. Give me one.” He had a gleam in his eye.
I shook my head. “The idea doesn’t appeal to me.” I looked at my wrist. “Quarter to nine. Mr. Wolfe is in the middle of dinner. The proper thing is for you to take these objects to the police, but they’re likely to feel hurt because you didn’t tell them about the abditories when they were here. We can’t interrupt Mr. Wolfe’s dinner, even with a phone call, so I suggest that I buy you a meal somewhere, modest but nutritious, and then we all three go and deliver these gadgets, calendar included, to him. He may want to ask some questions.”
“You take them to him,” Joe said. “I think I’ll go home.”
“I think I’ll go home too,” Helen said.