“Uh — Mr. Wolfe. I imagine your sources of information are pretty good.”
Wolfe said without looking at him, “They are superlative.”
“I imagine so. Gus Farrell hasn’t really been up against it for more than a couple of months, but I notice you are aware of it. Uh — I wonder if you would be willing to enlighten me regarding another item on your list. Just curiosity.”
“I haven’t engaged to satisfy your curiosity.”
“No. But I was wondering. Why have you got Gaines down for eight thousand and Burton for seven thousand and so on, and Ferd Bowen for only twelve hundred? He’s something in Wall Street — I mean really something. Isn’t he? The firm of Galbraith and Bowen...” Drummond made his voice a little lower. “Frankly, it’s more than curiosity... he handles a few little investments for me...”
Wolfe looked at him and looked away again. I thought for a minute he wasn’t going to reply at all, but he did, with his eyes shut. “Don’t bother to disparage your investments. It can have no effect on the amount of your payment to me, for that has already been calculated and recorded. As for your question, my sources of information may be superlative, but they are not infallible. If Mr. Bowen ventures to object that I have belittled him, I shall consider his protest with an open mind.”
“Of course,” Drummond agreed. “But if you could just tell me in confidence—”
“If you will excuse me.” Wolfe opened his eyes, got his chin up, and raised his voice a little. “Gentlemen. Gentlemen? Could I have a word with you?”
They approached his desk, three or four from the corner the bookshelves made, and the wet contingent from the alcove table. Two or three still in chairs stayed there. Drummond, his hide too thick to show any red from Wolfe’s sandpapering, trotted around to the far side. Mike Ayers flopped into a chair again, stretching out his legs; his mouth gaped wide in a free-for-all yawn, then suddenly he clamped his lips tight with a look of indignant and wary surprise. I had a notion to go and move him off the rug, but decided he was going to hold it. Wolfe was handing it to them in his handsome manner:
“The hour is getting late, and I would not wish to detain you beyond necessity. I take it that we are in agreement—”