She shook her head. “I don’t know. Naturally I thought he had changed his will and left me out. After word came that he was dead I showed that letter to the lawyer, Jim Beebe, and told him what I thought, and he said it did sound like it, but there had been no change made in the will as far as he knew, and Sidney must have been stringing me.”
“Not too adroitly,” Wolfe objected. “It isn’t so simple to disinherit a wife. However, since he didn’t try — What do you know about the false report of his death?”
“Only a little from an item in the paper,” she said, “but Jim Beebe told me some more. He was left for dead in the field in a retreat, but actually he was only stunned, and he was taken prisoner. He was a prisoner for nearly two years, and then he escaped across the Yalu River, and then he was in Manchuria. By that time he could talk their language — he was wonderful with languages — and he made friends in a village and wore their clothes, and it seems — I’m not sure about this, but apparently he was converted to communism.”
“Then he’s a jackass,” Wolfe asserted.
“Oh, no, he’s not a jackass.” She was positive. “Maybe he was just being picturesque. Anyhow, a few months after the truce was signed and the fighting stopped he finally decided he had had enough of it and went back across the Yalu and made his way to South Korea and reported to an army post, and they sent him home. And now he’s here,” She stretched her hands out, at arm’s length. “Please, Mr. Wolfe? Please?”
Though of course she didn’t know it, that was bad tactics. Wolfe’s reaction to an emotional appeal from a man is rarely favorable, and from a woman, never. He turned away from the painful sight, to me. “Archie. You’re in my hire, and I can dispatch you on errands within the scope of my métier, but this one isn’t. Are you willing to tackle it?”
He was being polite. What he really meant was: Five grand will pay a lot of salaries, including yours, and you will please proceed to earn it for me. So, wishing to be polite too, I suggested a compromise. “I’m willing to go get him and bring him here, and you can tackle it.”
“No,” he said flatly. “Regarding the proposal as quixotic, as I do, I would be a feeble advocate. I abandon it to your decision.”
“I deeply appreciate it,” I assured him. “Nuts. If I say no I won’t hear the last of it for months, so I’ll meet you all the way and say yes. I’ll take a shot at it.”
“Very well. We’ll discuss it after dinner, and in the morning you can—”