“I haven’t met him, no. I know a man who has. He says I look like him, but I’ve seen a picture of him, and the only resemblance is that we’re both big and fat.”
“Did you know a man named Marko Vukcic?”
“No, but I heard his name today, as I told you, when Shuvalov was speaking to Zov. Was he any relation to Danilo Vukcic?”
“His uncle. He owned a de luxe restaurant. This detective, Nero Wolfe, was his friend, and there is reason to believe that he intends to take Vukcic’s place and send money and other help to the Spirit of the Black Mountain. In large amounts.”
Wolfe grunted. “Then it did no good to kill Vukcic.”
“I don’t agree. We couldn’t know that a friend of his would take over so promptly and effectively. But he has. I got the news only today.”
“And now you propose to kill Nero Wolfe.”
Stritar snapped, “I didn’t say so.”
“No, but you might as well. I haven’t got a quick mind, but it didn’t have to be quick for that. I suggested that you might have another mission for Zov in America, and you asked me if I had ever heard of this Nero Wolfe. That’s just adding two and two, or rather one and one. So you propose to kill him.”
“What if I do?”