I shrugged. “It must have been him I heard say it.”
Our host gave me up and turned to Wolfe. “The District Attorney will be back between five and six. He left word that he would like all of us to be here. What does that mean?”
“Apparently,” Wolfe said dryly, “it means that he feels compelled to annoy you some more, much as he would prefer not to. By the way, I wouldn’t underrate Mr. Archer. Don’t let the defects of his personality mislead you.”
“They haven’t. But what evidence has he got that this was anything but an accident?”
“I don’t know, beyond what he hinted to you. Possibly none. Even if he accepts it as an accident, he needs to find out who was driving the car. Being a man in your position, Mr. Sperling, a man of wealth and note, bestows many advantages and privileges, but it also bestows handicaps. Mr. Archer knows he cannot afford to have it whispered that he winked at this affair because you are such a man. The poor devil.”
“I understand that,” Sperling was controlling himself admirably, considering that he had stated before witnesses that he would pay for the damage to the plant rooms. “But what about you? You have spent three hours this afternoon questioning my family and guests and servants. You have no intention of running for office, have you?”
“Good heavens, no.” From Wolfe’s tone you might have thought he had been asked if he intended to take up basketball. “But you have hired me to investigate Mr. Rony’s death. I was trying to earn my fee. I admit it doesn’t look much like it at this moment, but I had a hard night Sunday, and I’m waiting to learn what line Mr. Archer is going to take. What time is it, Archie?”
“Quarter past four.”
“Then he should be here in an hour or so.”
Sperling stood up. “Things are piling up at my office,” he said, just stating a fact, and strode out of the room.