“Very well. I’ll go.”
“To Wolfe’s for the night?”
“I tell you so.”
“Good for you. Don’t worry about your car; Saul will take care of it. Your name’s Jerry. Act tough and ignorant, like me or any other detective. — Okay, Orrie, choke it. Come on. Come on, Jerry.”
I opened the door to the lighted room and they followed me in. I collected Saul and Fred and briefly explained the strategy, and when Saul objected to letting the cops in I agreed with him without an argument. Our trio was supposed to resume operations in the morning, and in the meantime they had to have some shut-eye. It was settled that no one was to be permitted to enter, and excavations by strangers outdoors were barred. They were to send Fred to the village to get grub, and to phone the office, in the morning.
I went to a window and pushed my nose against the glass and saw that the party was still gathered about the steps. At a nod from me Saul unlocked the door and swung it open, and Gebert and I passed through to the porch. In our rear, Saul and Fred and Orrie occupied the doorsill. We clattered to the edge:
“Lieutenant Rowcliff? Oh, there you are. Jerry Martin and I are going back to town. I’m leaving three men here, and they still prefer privacy. They need some sleep and so do you. Just as a favor, I’ll tell you straight that Jerry and I haven’t got the red box on us, so there’s nothing to gnash your teeth about. — Okay, Saul, lock up, and one of you stay awake.” The door shut, leaving the porch in the dark again, and I turned. “Come on, Jerry. If anyone jostles you, stick a hatpin in him.”
But the instant the door had closed someone had got smart and clicked on a flashlight and aimed it at Gebert’s face. I had his elbow to urge him along, but there was a stir in front of us and a growl: “Now you don’t need to run.” A big guy was standing in front of Gebert and holding the light on him. He growled again. “Look here, Lieutenant, look at this Jerry. Jerry hell. This is that guy that was at Frost’s apartment when I was up there this morning with the inspector. His name’s Gebert, a friend of Mrs. Frost’s.”
I snickered. “I don’t know you, mister, but you must be cross-eyed. The country air maybe. Come on, Jerry.”
No go. Rowcliff and two other dicks and the pair of troopers all barred the way, and Rowcliff sang at me, “Back up, Goodwin. You’ve heard of Bill Northrup and you know how cross-eyed he is. No mistake, Bill?”