“Right. You left her locked in?”
“Certainly. I brought you the key. You said she would probably have her dinner—”
“Yeah, we’ll let you know. Okay, thanks.”
Fritz darted a look at Wolfe, got none in return, wheeled, and left. Wolfe waited for the sound of the kitchen door closing, then put his book down and spoke. “It’s true,” he said in a tone that would have been fitting if he had just learned that I had been putting thrips on his plants. “You have actually installed a woman in a room of my house?”
“Not installed exactly,” I objected. “That’s too strong a word. And it implies that I have personal—”
“Where did you get her?”
“I didn’t get her. As I told you, she came. I wasn’t inventing. I was reporting.”
“Report it in full. Verbatim.”
That order was easy, compared to some I have had to fill. I gave him words and actions complete, from opening the front door to let her in through to locking the south room door to keep her in. He leaned back with his eyes closed, as he usually does when I’m reporting at length. When I finished he had no questions, not one. He merely opened his eyes and snapped at me, “Go up and give her back her money.” He glanced at the wall clock. “It’ll be dinnertime in twenty minutes. Get her out of the house in ten. Help her pack.”
Here I hit a snag. Looking back at it, it would seem that my natural and normal course would have been to obey instructions. My double mission had been accomplished. I had taken a backhanded crack at his being so damn particular about accepting jobs and clients, and also I had got a replacement for my check. She had served my purpose, so why not bounce her? But evidently something about her, maybe the way she packed a suitcase, had made an impression on me, for I found myself taking a line.