“We have learned so long ago to stay away from windows,” Carl said. “But we want to go. We will pay the fifty dollars gladly.”
“You can’t go.” I was irritated and emphatic. “That was Inspector Cramer, a very important policeman. We told him you were in here, and so—”
“You told him—” Tina gasped.
“Yes. It’s the Hitler-Stalin technique in reverse. They tell barefaced lies to have them taken for the truth, and we told the barefaced truth to have it taken for a lie. It worked. You were within a hair’s breadth of getting flushed, and I’ll never be the same again, but it worked. So now we’re stuck, and you are too. You stay here. We’ve told the cops you’re in this room, and you’re not going to leave it, at least not until bedtime. I’m locking you in.” I pointed to a door. “That’s a bathroom, and there’s a glass if you want a drink. It has another door into the office, but I’ll lock it. The windows have bars.”
I crossed to the door to the hall and locked it with my master key. I went through to the office, entered the bathroom in the corner, turned the bolt flange on the door to the front room, opened the door an inch, returned to the office, locked that door with my key, and went back to the front room. Carl and Tina, speaking in low tones, fell silent as I entered.
“All set,” I told them. “Make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything don’t yell, this room is soundproofed; push this button.” I put my finger on it, under the edge of the table. “I’ll give you the news as soon as there is any.” I was going.
“But this is hanging in the air on a thread,” Carl protested.
“You’re damn right it is,” I agreed grimly. “Your only hope is that Mr. Wolfe has now put his foot in it, and it’s up to him to get both you and him loose, not to mention me. He can’t possibly do it, which is an advantage, because the only things he ever really strains himself on are those that can’t be done. The next two hours are time out. He doesn’t let anything interfere with his afternoon session, from four to six, with his orchids up on the roof. By the way, there is a small gleam. Inspector Cramer beat it back to the shop because he got a phone call that Janet had been hurt. If she got hurt with scissors with you not there, it may be a real break.”
“Janet?” Tina was distressed. “Was she hurt much?”
I looked at her suspiciously. Surely that was phony. But she looked as if she really meant it. Maybe with some people who have been hurt plenty and often themselves, that’s the way they react when someone else gets it, someone they know.