“Yeah, he’s looking into it a little. I guess I might as well be frank. He thought there might be something around Rony’s office — some papers, anything — that might give us a hint. The idea was for me to go and look. For instance, if there were two rooms and a stenographer in one of them, I could fold her up — probably gag her and tie her — if there was a safe I could stick pins under her nails until she gave me the combination — and really do a job. I brought a man along to help, but even with two of us I don’t see how we can—”
I stopped because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t hear me. You might have thought I was Bob Hope and had finally found a new one. When I thought it would reach him I protested modestly, “I don’t deserve all that.”
He tapered off to a chuckle. “I should have met you long ago,” he declared. “I’ve been missing something. I want to tell you, Archie, and you can tell Wolfe, you can count on us here — all of us — for anything you want.” He waved a hand. “The place is yours. You won’t have to stick pins in us. Louis’s secretary will show you anything, tell you anything — all of us will. We’ll do everything we can to help you get at the truth. For a high-minded man truth is everything. Who scratched your face?”
He was getting on my nerves. He was so glad to have met me at last, and was so anxious to help, that it took me a full five minutes to break loose and get out of the room, but I finally made it.
I marched back to the reception room, beckoned to Saul, and, as soon as we were outside the suite, told him, “The wrong member of the firm got killed. Compared to Aloysius Murphy, Rony was the flower of truth.”
Chapter 16
The pictures came out pretty well, considering. Since Wolfe had told me to order four prints of each, there was about half a bushel. That evening after dinner, as Saul and I sat in the office inspecting and assorting them, it seemed to me there were more of Madeline than I remembered taking, and I left most of them out of the pile we were putting to one side for Wolfe. There were three good ones of Rony — one full-face, one three-quarters, and one profile — and one of the shots of the membership card was something to be proud of. That alone should have got me a job on Life. Webster Kane wasn’t photogenic, but Paul Emerson was. I remarked on that fact to Wolfe as I went to put his collection on his desk. He grunted. I asked if he was ready for my report for the afternoon, and he said he would go through the pictures first.
Paul Emerson was one of the causes for the delay on my report. Saul and I had got back to the office shortly after six, but Wolfe’s schedule had been shattered by the emergency on the roof, and he didn’t come down until 6:28. At that minute he strode in, turned the radio on and dialed to WPIT, went to his chair behind the desk, and sat with his lips tightened.
The commercial came, and the introduction, and then Emerson’s acid baritone:
This fine June afternoon it is no pleasure to have to report that the professors are at it again — but then they always are — oh, yes, you can count on the professors. One of them made a speech last night at Boston, and if you have anything left from last week’s pay you’d better hide it under the mattress. He wants us not only to feed and clothe everybody on earth, but educate them also...