I returned to the wire and had more talk. Cramer was as amiable as a guy stopping you on a lonely hill because he’s out of gas. I turned to Wolfe again:
“He’d like to stop in at six o’clock to smoke a cigar. He says, to compare notes. He means S O S.”
Wolfe nodded.
I told Cramer sure, come ahead, and rang off.
The client had stood up. He looked back and forth from me to Wolfe, and said with no belligerence at all, “Was that Inspector Cramer? He — he’s coming here?”
“Yeah, a little later.” I answered because Wolfe had leaned back and closed his eyes. “He often drops around for a friendly chat when he has a case so easy it bores him.”
“But he... I...” Llewellyn was groggy. He straightened up. “Listen, goddam it. I want to use that phone.”
“Help yourself. Take my chair.”
I vacated and he moved in. He started dialing without having to look up the number. He was jerky about it, but seemed to know what he was doing. I stood and listened.
“Hello, hello! That you, Styce? This is Lew Frost. Is my father still there? Try Mr. McNair’s office. Yes, please... Hello, Dad? Lew... No... No, wait a minute. Is Aunt Callie still there? Waiting for me? Yeah, I know... No, listen, I’m talking from Nero Wolfe’s office, 918 West 35th Street. I want you and Aunt Callie to come down here right away... There’s no use explaining on the phone, you’ll have to come... I can’t explain that... Well, bring her anyway... Now, Dad, I’m doing the best I can... Right. You can make it in ten minutes... No, it’s a private house...”