Of course I didn’t know then what he had said, but I saw he had made a mistake. Zov’s reaction, which was prompt, was merely a loud and emphatic protest, but Stritar narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. Later, when I learned what Wolfe had said, I thanked God Stritar hadn’t been quite keen enough. He had suspected there was something phony about it, but he hadn’t gone a step further and realized that Toné Stara was from America and that Zov’s gun had been used to commit a murder in America. If he had, good-by. I’m not blaming Wolfe for making the try. He wanted me to hang on to that Luger if I possibly could, and he took the chance. He saw at once that it wouldn’t work and he had nearly gummed it, and was quick to repair the damage.
He raised a hand to stop Zov’s protest. “No, Comrade Zov, not if you feel so strongly about it. It was just a suggestion, of no importance. I thought you might welcome it. Alex, give Comrade Zov his gun.”
I took it from my pocket, went over and handed it to him, and returned to my chair.
Stritar’s eyes were back to normal. “You will be glad to know that your account agrees in every respect with Peter Zov’s. Of course you could have arranged for that, there was plenty of time, but I have at present no reason to suppose that you did. You can tell your son that the man he killed was Dmitri Shuvalov, one of the three top Russians in Albania.”
Wolfe told me, and I said that was interesting.
“So,” Stritar said, “I’m glad I let you go yesterday, to see what you would get into. I certainly didn’t anticipate your performance at the fort. Zov, who speaks Russian, has been in contact with Shuvalov for some time, and was doing well, he thought; but evidently he was wrong. It was lucky for him you came along, and I tell you frankly, you have earned some consideration. What are you going to do now? Would you like to go to Belgrade? It is not out of the question for you to meet the marshal.”
“We have no papers, as you know.”
“That will be no difficulty, under the circumstances.”
“I don’t know.” Wolfe looked doubtful. “My son and I feel that we have accomplished what we came for. It doesn’t take us a year to tell an apple from a wart. We are satisfied that the true interests of the people of my native land will be best served by the present regime. We were particularly impressed by your treatment of us yesterday, because it could only have come from the confidence of a secure and just authority. We want to help as far as our modest resources will permit, but we can do more good in America than we could here. Our property is there, and our — oh, by the way, speaking of property, I told you of our cache in the mountains.”
“Yes.”