“All the time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where has Leo been?”
“Here too, all the time. Where else would we be at dinnertime? And when Marko didn’t come—”
“If you don’t mind,” Cramer cut in, “I’ve already got this. I don’t need—”
“I do,” Wolfe told him. “I have a double responsibility, Mr. Cramer. If you assume that I intend to see that the murderer of my friend is caught and brought to account with the least possible delay, you are correct. But another onus is on me. Under my friend’s will, as you will soon learn officially, I am executor of his estate and trustee ad interim. I am not a legatee. This restaurant is the only substantial asset, and it was left to six of the men who work here, with the biggest shares going to the three men I have just inquired about. They were told of the terms of the will when it was altered a year ago. Mr. Vukcic had no close relatives, and none at all in this country.”
Cramer was eying Felix. “What’s this place worth?”
Felix shrugged. “I don’t know.”