“So he was a chaser,” Sergeant Stebbins growled.
“Pfui!” Wolfe growled back at him. “Gallantry is not always a lackey for lust.”
Which was a fine sentiment with company present, but the fact remained that Wolfe had himself asked me about Marko’s relations with women. For the next three hours, there in Marko’s office, that subject came close to monopolizing the conversation. Felix was dismissed and told to send Joe up. Other Homicide dicks arrived, and an assistant district attorney, and waiters and cooks were brought up for sessions in the private dining rooms; and with each one, after a few personal questions, the emphasis was on the female guests who had eaten at Marko’s own table in the past year or so. By the time Wolfe was willing to call it a day and got himself erect and stretched, it was well after midnight and a respectable bulk of data had been collected, including the names of seven women, none of them notorious.
Cramer rasped at Wolfe, “You said you intend to see that the murderer is caught and brought to account with the least possible delay. I don’t want to butt in, but I’ll just mention that the Police Department will be glad to help.”
Wolfe ignored the sarcasm, thanked him politely, and headed for the door.
On the way downtown in the cab I remarked that I had been pleased to note that no one had pronounced the name of Sue Dondero. Wolfe, on the edge of the seat, gripping the strap, set to jump for his life, made no reply.
“Though I must say,” I added, “there were enough of them without her. They’re not going to like it much. By noon tomorrow there’ll be thirty-five dicks, five to a candidate, working on that list. I mention it merely for your consideration, in case you are thinking of telling me to have all seven of them in the office at eleven in the morning.”
“Shut up,” he muttered.
Usually I react to that command vocally, but that time I thought it just as well to obey. When we rolled to the curb in front of the old brownstone on West Thirty-fifth Street I paid the driver, got out and held the door for Wolfe, mounted the seven steps to the stoop, and opened the door with my key. After Wolfe had crossed the threshold I closed the door and put the chain bolt on, and when I turned Fritz was there and was telling Wolfe, “There’s a lady to see you, sir.”
It popped into my mind that it would save me a lot of trouble if they were going to drop in without being invited, but Fritz was adding, “It’s your daughter, Mrs. Britton.”