“Then he’s inert matter.”
“He is not inert matter. Unless he has been embalmed with uncommon thoroughness. The activity of decomposition is tremendous.”
“All right, then he’s a banquet. Anything you say. Might I inquire, have you turned the case over to Inspector Cramer? Should I go down and ask him for instructions?”
No response. I waited a decent interval, then went on, “Take this red leather box, for instance. Say Cramer finds it and opens it and learns all the things it would be fun to know, and hitches up his horse and buggy and goes and gets the murderer, with evidence. There would go the first half of your fee from Llewellyn. The second half is already gone, since McNair is dead and of course that heiress won’t work there any more. It begins to look as if you not only had the discomfort of seeing McNair die right in front of you, you’re not even going to be able to send anyone a bill for it. You’ve taught me to be tough in money matters. Do you realize that Doc Vollmer will charge five bucks for the call he made here yesterday? You could have him send the bill to McNair’s estate, but you’d have the trouble and expense of handling it anyhow, since you’re the executor without remuneration. And by the way, what about that executor stuff? Aren’t you supposed to bustle around and do something?”
No response.
I said, “And besides, Cramer hasn’t really got any right to the red box at all. Legally it’s yours. But if he gets hold of it he’ll plunder it, don’t think he won’t. Then of course you could have your lawyer write him a letter—”
“Shut up, Archie.” Wolfe put down the glass. “You are talking twaddle. Or perhaps you aren’t; do you mean business? Would you go out with your pistol and shoot all the men in Mr. Cramer’s army? I see no other way to stop their search. And then find the red box yourself?”
I grinned at him condescendingly. “I wouldn’t do that, because I wouldn’t have to. If I was the kind of man you are, I would just sit calmly in my chair with my eyes shut, and use psychology on it. Like you did with Paul Chapin, remember? First I would decide what the psychology of McNair was like, covering every point. Then I would say to myself, if my psychology was like that, and if I had a very important article like a red box to hide, where would I hide it? Then I would say to someone else, Archie, please go at once to such and such a place and get the red box and bring it here. That way you would get hold of it before any of Cramer’s men—”
“That will do.” Wolfe was positive but unperturbed. “I’ll tolerate the goad, Archie, only when it is needed. In the present case I don’t need that, I need facts; but I refuse to waste your energies and mine in assembling a collection of them which may be completely useless once the red box is found. As for finding it, we’re obviously out of that, with Cramer’s terriers at every hole.” He got a little acid. “I choose to remind you of what my program contemplated yesterday: supervising the cooking of a goose. Not watching a man die of poison. And yours for this morning: driving to Mr. Salzenbach’s place at Garfield for a freshly butchered kid. Not pestering me with inanities. And for this afternoon — yes, Fritz?”
Fritz approached. “Mr. Llewellyn Frost to see you.”