“Exposure from the open window?”
“Yes. They’re very delicate, that kind.”
Wolfe nodded. “That table over there by the globe — that pile of stuff on it is Dazzle Dan for the past three years. I’ve been looking through it. Last August and September a monkey had a prominent role. It was drawn by two different persons, or at least with two different conceptions. In its first seventeen appearances it was depicted maliciously — on a conjecture, by someone with a distaste for monkeys. Thereafter it was drawn sympathetically and humorously. The change was abrupt and noticeable. Why? On instructions from Mr. Koven?”
Pat Lowell was frowning. Her lips parted and went together again.
“You have four choices,” Wolfe said bluntly. “The truth, a lie, evasion, or refusal to answer. Either of the last two would make me curious, and I would get my curiosity satisfied somehow. If you try a lie it may work, but I’m an expert on lies and liars.”
“There’s nothing to lie about. I was thinking back. Mr. Getz objected to the way the monkey was drawn, and Mr. Koven had Mr. Jordan do it instead of Mr. Hildebrand.”
“Mr. Jordan likes monkeys?”
“He likes animals. He said the monkey looked like Napoleon.”
“Mr. Hildebrand does not like monkeys?”
“He didn’t like that one. Rookaloo knew it, of course, and bit him once. Isn’t this pretty silly, Mr. Wolfe? Are you going on with this?”