“Then I hire you for another job now. To investigate Rony’s death.”
Wolfe frowned at him. “You’d better not. I advise against it.”
“You’re hired.”
Wolfe shook his head. “You’re in a panic and you’re being impetuous. If Mr. Rony was murdered, and if I undertake to look into it, I’ll get the murderer. It’s conceivable that you’ll regret you ever saw me.”
“But you’re hired.”
Wolfe shrugged. “I know. Your immediate problem is to keep me from repeating that conversation to the police, and, being pugnacious and self-assured, you solve your problems as they come. But you can’t hire me today and fire me tomorrow. You know what I would do if you tried that.”
“I know. You won’t be fired. You’re hired.” Sperling arose. “I’ll phone the police.”
“Wait a minute!” Wolfe was exasperated. “Confound it, are you a dunce? Don’t you know how ticklish this is? There were seven of us in that conversation—”
“We’ll attend to that after I’ve phoned.”
“No, we won’t. I’ll attend to it now.” Wolfe’s eyes darted around. “All of you, please. Miss Sperling?”