“Let’s clean up as we go along,” Wolfe put in. “Then you’re clear on the affair of the loan, Mr. Dunn?”
“I’m clear of perfidy,” Dunn said gloomily, “but I let that damned woman make a fool of me. And anyway, with all this — it’s all over—”
“Not quite,” Wolfe declared. “It won’t be all over until I’m through with it. With luck even, you should be able to sleep tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. But you can help me remove a few obstructions — excuse me—”
The phone was ringing. I got my receiver at my ear, but he must have been on edge, for he reached for his extension without waiting for me. I said, “Office of Nero Wolfe—”
“Saul Panzer, Archie. Three-eighteen. I’m reporting from—”
Wolfe’s voice cut him off: “Hold the wire.” Wolfe dropped his instrument on its cradle, arose from his chair, said curtly, “No record, Archie,” and made for the door. Fritz, who had been hovering, left the room with him. I plugged in the kitchen extension, kept the receiver to my ear until I heard Wolfe’s voice and Saul’s answering him, and hung up.
May Hawthorne said incisively, “He’s a mountebank. Talk of our sleeping tonight! I tell you, someone must do something! Prescott down there with April! He may be a good lawyer, but he’s not up to this. And Andy’s a child. And this windbag of a Wolfe — bah! We’re sunk, damn it!”
Dunn muttered at her, without conviction, “He says April is in no danger—”
“Bluff!” May snorted. “My God, if the best we can do in the face of calamity is sit here and listen—”
“Be quiet, May,” June put in with quiet authority. “Quit ragging. You know very well it’s Nero Wolfe or nothing. What has anyone else been able to offer except well-meaning condolence? If we’re sunk, we’re sunk. You stop digging at John. He was on the verge of a collapse before this happened.” Her eyes left her sister, to look at her daughter, and her voice changed. “Sara dear. I don’t like to ask you what you came here for, but I’d like to know. Mr. Wolfe sent for you. Didn’t he?”