He turned abruptly to Wolfe. “You’ve got us at your mercy. What are you going to do? Hand it over to the police?”
Wolfe shook his head. “No, sir. I might for a quid pro quo, but the police have nothing I want. Sit down; let’s talk it over. I was just asking Mr. Davis if he advised Miss Karn to come here to negotiate with Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“If he advised—” Prescott gawked. “Why did you ask him that?”
Davis forestalled Wolfe’s answer: “Because she came! She was here!” He was on his feet, confronting his partner. “And now I’m asking you! Did you bring her here?”
“You’re crazy, Gene. For God’s sake, have a little sense. I tell you, this is no time—”
“You brought her here!”
“You’re crazy! Why would I—”
“I’m going to find out,” Davis declared, and tramped from the room.
We all stared at the open door which he had disdained to close. Then Prescott said abruptly, “The damned idiot,” and out he went too. I was out of my chair, asking hopefully:
“Do you want ’em?”