“Damn it, can’t you cut this short?”
“Not and earn my fee,” Wolfe snapped. He resumed.
“That was in May of last year — thirteen months ago. In the interval I have not heard from X, because I haven’t happened to do anything with which he had reason to interfere. That good fortune ended — as I suppose it was bound to do soon or late, since we are both associated with crime — day before yesterday, Saturday, at six-ten P.M. He phoned again. He was more peremptory than formerly, and gave me an ultimatum with a time limit. I responded to his tone as a man of my temperament naturally would — I am congenitally tart and thorny — and I rejected his ultimatum. I do not pretend that I was unconcerned. When Mr. Goodwin returned from his weekend here, after midnight on Sunday, yesterday, and gave me his report, I told him of the phone call and we discussed the situation at length.”
Wolfe looked around. “Do any of you happen to know that there are plant rooms on the roof of my house, in which I keep thousands of orchids, all of them good and some of them new and rare and extremely beautiful?”
Yes, they all did, again all but Sperling.
Wolfe nodded. “I won’t try to introduce suspense. Mr. Goodwin and I were in my office talking, between two and three o’clock this morning, when we heard an outlandish noise. Men hired by X had mounted to the roof of a building across the street, armed with submachine guns, and fired hundreds of rounds at my plant rooms, with what effect you can guess. I shall not describe it. Thirty men are there now, salvaging and repairing. That my gardener was not killed was fortuitous. The cost of repairs and replacements will be around forty thousand dollars, and some of the damaged or destroyed plants are irreplaceable. The gunmen have not been found and probably never will be, and what if they are? It was incorrect to say they were hired by X. They were hired by a D or C or B — most likely a C. Assuredly X is not on speaking terms with anyone as close to crime as a gunman, and I doubt if a D is. In any—”
“You say,” Sperling put in, “this just happened? Last night?”
“Yes, sir. I mentioned the approximate amount of the damage because you’ll have to pay it. It will be on my bill.”
Sperling made a noise. “It may be on your bill, but I won’t have to pay it. Why should I?”
“Because you’ll owe it. It is an expense incurred on the job you gave me. My plant rooms were destroyed because I ignored X’s ultimatum, and his demand was that I recall Mr. Goodwin from here and stop my inquiry into the activities and character of Louis Rony. You wanted me to prove that Mr. Rony is a Communist. I can’t do that, but I can prove that he is one of X’s men, either a C or a D, and is therefore a dangerous professional criminal.”