Demarest chuckled. “Unlawful restraint with witnesses,” he commented.
Wolfe ignored it and gave the screw another turn on Bernard. “Where is he, Mr. Daumery? You can’t take time to think it over, to consult him on this one. Where is he?”
“This is awful,” Bernard said hoarsely. “This is an awful thing.”
“He can’t do this!” came suddenly from the red leather chair. Cynthia’s concentrated gaze at Bernard was full of a kind and degree of sympathy that I had hoped never to see her spend on a rival. “He can’t threaten you and keep you here! It’s unlawful!” Her head jerked to Wolfe and she snapped at him, “You stop it now!”
“It’s too late, my dear child,” Demarest told her. “You hired him — and I must admit you’re getting your money’s worth.” His head turned. “You’d better tell him, Bernard. It may be hard, but the other way’s harder.”
“Where is he, Mr. Daumery?” Wolfe repeated.
Bernard’s chin lifted a little. “If you’re right,” he said, still hoarse, “and God knows I hope you’re not, it’s up to him. The address is Eight-sixteen East Ninetieth Street. I want to phone him.”
“No,” Wolfe said curtly. “You will be unlawfully restrained if you try. What is it, an apartment building?”
“Yes.”
“Elevator?”