“Yes, sir.”
Fritz went. Chaffee thought he had something more to say, decided he hadn’t, and sat down. Talento said something to him, and he shook his head. Jerry Aland, much more presentable now that he was combed and dressed, kept his eyes fastened on Wolfe.
For Meegan, apparently, there was no one in the room but him and his wife.
Cramer and Stebbins marched in, halted three paces from the door, and took a survey.
“Be seated,” Wolfe invited them. “Luckily, Mr. Cramer, your usual chair is unoccupied.”
“Where’s the dog?” Cramer barked.
“In the kitchen. You had better suspend that prepossession. It’s understood that you will be merely a spectator for thirty minutes?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Then sit down. But you should have one piece of information. You know the gentlemen, of course, but not the lady. Her current name is Miss Jewel Jones. Her legal name is Mrs. Richard Meegan.”
“Meegan?” Cramer stared. “The one in the picture Chaffee painted? Meegan’s wife?”