He spoke. “I had seen you leave, upstairs, and I suspected you were in there.”
“Why didn’t she scream or fight?”
“I talked to her. I talked a little first.” His head gave a quick jerk, as if a fly were bothering him and his hands were too occupied to attend to it. “What did she tell you?”
“About that day at Doris Hatten’s apartment — you coming in and her going out. And of course her recognizing you there yesterday.”
“She is dead. There is no evidence. You can’t prove anything.”
I grinned. “Then you’re wasting a lot of time and energy and the best disguise I ever saw. Why didn’t you just toss my note in the wastebasket? Let me answer. You didn’t dare. In getting evidence, knowing exactly what and who to look for makes all the difference. And you knew I knew.”
“And you haven’t told the police?”
“No.”
“Nor Nero Wolfe?”
“No.”