“Then I’ll proceed.” He glanced up at the wall clock. “Twenty hours ago Philip Kampf was killed in the house where you gentlemen live. The circumstances indicate that one of you killed him. But I won’t rehash the multifarious details which you have already discussed at length with the police; you are familiar with them. I have not been hired to work on this case; the only client I have is a dog, and he came to my office by inadvertence. However, it is—”
The doorbell rang. I asked myself if I had put the chain bolt on, and decided I had. Through the open door to the hall I saw Fritz passing to answer it. Wolfe started to go on, but was annoyed by the sound of voices, Fritz’s and another’s, coming through, and stopped. The voices continued. Wolfe shut his eyes and compressed his lips. The audience sat and looked at him.
Then Fritz appeared in the doorway and announced, “Inspector Cramer, sir.”
Wolfe’s eyes opened. “What does he want?”
“I told him you are engaged. He says he knows you are, that the four men were followed to your house and he was notified. He says he expected you to be trying some trick with the dog, and he knows that’s what you are doing, and he intends to come in and see what it is. Sergeant Stebbins is with him.”
Wolfe grunted. “Archie, tell — No. You’d better stay where you are. Fritz, tell him he may see and hear what I’m doing, provided he gives me thirty minutes without interruptions or demands. If he agrees to that, bring them in.”
“Wait!” Ross Chaffee was on his feet. “You said you would discuss it with us before you communicated with the police.”
“I haven’t communicated with them, they’re here.”
“You told them to come!”
“No. I would have preferred to deal with you men first and then call them, but here they are and they might as well join us. Bring them, Fritz, on that condition.”