“This danger is extreme.”
“So is the fix you’re in. The office is sealed, and in it are the book you’re reading and the television set. Let’s hear the test. Describe it. All I ask is ninety-nine chances in a hundred.”
“Very well.” He turned a hand over. “The decision will be yours. The typewriter in the office is inaccessible. Is that old one in your room in working order?”
“Fair.”
“Bring it down here, and some sheets of blank paper — any kind. I’ll need a blank envelope.”
“I have some.”
“Bring one. Also the telephone book, Manhattan, from my room.”
I went to the hall and up two flights of stairs. Having collected the first three items in my room, I descended a flight, found that the door of Wolfe’s room was still locked, and had to put the typewriter on the floor to get out my keys. With a full cargo I returned to the dining room, unloaded, and was placing the typewriter in position on the table when Wolfe spoke.
“No, bring it here. I’ll use it myself.”
I lifted my brows at him. “A page will take you an hour.”