He looked at me and said sarcastically, “All the comforts of hell. If you mean it, Scotch. Don’t spoon it out, you know.”
I told him I wouldn’t and trotted out and downstairs. In the ambush behind the draperies in the living room, on the shelves back of the bar, there were four brands to choose from. I long-armed cross the bar and got one, with a glass, poured out a generous triple, and returned to the library with it. It simply wasn’t possible for Davis to keep his fingers from shaking as he took it. He only had to swallow twice. After a moment he put the glass down on the desk, and his fingers were steady.
He met Wolfe’s eyes. “Tuesday afternoon,” he said. “I was with Miss Karn from 3 o’clock until around 7.”
“Where?”
“Driving. We went up to Connecticut and back. If the police have questioned her, that isn’t what she told them, but I’m not telling the police, I’m telling you. If they question me, I’ll tell them where I was, but I’ll say I was alone.”
“Did you stop to eat or drink?”
“No. We have no corroboration.”
“That’s too bad. Will you have some beer?”
Davis shuddered. “No!”
“I’m thirsty.” Wolfe poured and put the bottle down. “You see, Mr. Davis, you may get into trouble. I doubt if the police have smelled you yet, but they certainly will if they keep on. They’ll learn that you formed an attachment for Miss Karn a long while ago, and that when—”