I went back down to the office and told Cramer, “Mr. Wolfe can’t come down. He’s too infirm.”
The Inspector laughed. “I didn’t expect him to. I’ve known Nero Wolfe longer than you have, sonny. You don’t suppose I thought I was going to tear any secrets out of him? Anything he would tell me he has already told you. Can I light a pipe?”
“Shoot. Wolfe hates it. To hell with him.”
“What’s this, you staging on me?” Cramer packed his pipe, held a match to it, and puffed. “You don’t... need to. Did Wolfe tell you what... I told him on the phone?”
“I heard it.” I patted my notebook. “I’ve got it down.”
“The hell you have. Okay. I don’t want George Pratt riding me, I’m too old to enjoy it. What went on here night before last?”
I grinned. “Just what Wolfe told you. That’s all. He closed a little contract.”
“Is it true that he nicked Pratt for four thousand dollars?”
“He didn’t nick anybody. He offered something for sale, and they gave him the order.”
“Yeah.” He puffed. “You know Pratt? Pratt thinks that it’s funny that he has to shell out to a private dick when the city maintains such a magnificent force of brave and intelligent men to cope with such problems. He said cope. I was there. He was talking to the Deputy Commissioner.”