“I’m a police officer. I’m not going to tie myself—”
“Don’t haggle. You know damn well where you stand. I’m needed in there to take notes. Well?”
“I’m coming in.”
“Under the terms as I stated?”
“Yes.”
“Strictly clam?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Otherwise you’d better bring a bulldozer if you ever want in again.” I swung the door open.
Wolfe greeted him curtly and left it to me to introduce him to the ladies. It wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t met Mrs. Whitten, since his men had settled on Pompa as a cinch after a few hours’ investigation and therefore there had been no occasion for their superior officer to annoy the widow. He acknowledged the introductions with stingy nods, gave Wolfe a swift keen glance that would have liked to go on through his hide to the interior, and indicated that he intended to keep his vow by taking a chair well out of it, to the rear and right of Mrs. Whitten.
Wolfe spoke to him. “Let’s put it this way, Mr. Cramer. You’re here merely as a caller waiting to see me.