“Nuts. Who was it?”
“It was a medium-sized man around forty, with a brown beard and slick brown hair parted on the left side, with glasses that were just plain glass. Can you name him?”
I thought it extremely interesting that Cramer’s description consisted of the three items that Cynthia had specified. It showed what a well-planned disguise could do.
V
Wolfe remained silent.
“Sorry,” I said. “Never met him.”
Cramer left me for Wolfe. “Under the circumstances,” he argued, still sarcastic, “you may concede that I have a right to ask what she came to you for. It was only after she tried two lies on us about how she spent yesterday morning that we finally got it out of her that she came here. She didn’t want us to know, she was dead against it, and she wouldn’t tell what she came for. Add to that the fact that whenever you are remotely connected with anyone who is remotely connected with a murder you always know everything, and there’s no question about my needing to know what you were consulted about. I came to ask you myself because I know what you’re like.”
Wolfe broke his vow. He spoke. “Is Miss Nieder under arrest?”
The phone rang before Cramer could answer. I took it, a voice asked to speak to Inspector Cramer, and Cramer came to my desk and talked. Or rather, he listened. About all he used was grunts, but at one point he said “Here?” with an inflection that started my mind going, and simple logic carried it on to a conclusion.
So as Cramer hung up I pushed in ahead of him to tell Wolfe. “Answering your question, she is not under arrest. They turned her loose because they didn’t have enough to back up anything suffer than material witness, and they put a tail on her, and the tail phoned in that she came here, and the call Cramer just got was a relay on the tail’s report. She’s in the front room. I put her there because I know how you are about having your meals interrupted. Shall I bring her in?”