“No, sir, I wouldn’t say trouble. Following the instructions I gave him, he walked around and sat in a bar having refreshments until five o’clock. Then one of the bar’s customers needed to be conveyed home and Fred obliged. I joined him in the customer’s apartment at the address I told Fritz to give you, arriving at nine o’clock. The customer was on the bed in a coma sequential to acute inebriation. After looking around to make sure that everything was all right, I departed, phoned the house, and received your message from Fritz. Fred has gone home to sleep.”
“The customer’s identity?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well?”
I shrugged. If the lid was off for the cabinet member and wife, okay. “Eugene Davis, of the law firm of Dunwoodie, Prescott & Davis.”
“Ah.”
Mrs. Dunn asked in a tone of surprise, “Gene Davis?”
“Do you know him, madam?” inquired Wolfe.
“Not well. I haven’t seen him for a long time.” She turned to her husband. “You remember him, John. Eugene Davis, Glenn’s partner. I don’t think either of us has seen him since we went to Washington.”
Dunn nodded uncertainly. “I believe I do. A fellow with a narrow nose and too much blood in his lips. But he has no connection with this — has he? Eugene Davis?”