As I started for the office, here came Wolfe, headed for his elevator.
“Which one?” I asked.
He halted, glaring. “Which one what?”
“Excuse me. I meant it only as a pleasantry. If you’re as stumped as you look, God help your client.”
He eyed me. “Archie. Do you know who killed Miss Eads and Mrs. Fomos?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you think you know?”
“No, sir.”
“I do — or I did — but there’s a contradiction. What about Mrs. Jaffee? Is she a snake or a cheat?”
“No. Nice odds, say ten to one.”