Fer-De-Lance

I got at my desk, and he dictated twenty minutes without stopping. After the first two minutes I put on a grin, and kept it on till the end. It was beautiful, it was without a flaw, and it covered every detail. He had even allowed for Maria Maffei’s refusal or her inability to persuade Anna; in that case the action was approximately the same, but the characters were shifted around; I was to take it with Anna. He had telephoned Burke Williamson and arranged for a clear stage for us, and Saul Panzer was to call at the office at six o’clock for the sedan and his instructions. When he had finished dictating it was all so clear that there were few questions for me to ask. I asked those few, and ran back over the pages. He was leaning back in his chair, full of beer, pretending he wasn’t pleased with himself.

I said, "All right, I admit it, you’re a genius. This will get it if she’s got it."

He nodded without concern.

Maria Maffei arrived on the dot. I was waiting for her on my toes and got to the door before Fritz was out of the kitchen. She was dressed in black, and if I had met her on the street I doubt if I would have known her, she looked so worn out. I was so full of Wolfe’s program that I had a grin ready for her, but I killed it in time. She wasn’t having any grins. After I saw her I didn’t feel like grinning anyway; it sobered me up to see what the death of a brother might do to a woman. She was ten years older and the bright life in her eyes was gone.

I took her to the office and moved a chair in front of Wolfe for her and went to my desk.

She exchanged greetings with Wolfe and said, "I suppose you want money."

"Money for what?" Wolfe asked.

"For finding my brother Carlo. You didn’t find him. Neither did the police. Some boys found him. I won’t pay you any money."

"You might." Wolfe sighed. "I hadn’t thought of that, Miss Maffei. I’m sorry you suggested it. It arouses me to sordid considerations. But for the moment let us forget it; you owe me nothing. Forget it. But let me ask you-I am sorry if it is painful, but it is necessary-you saw your brother’s body?"

Her eyes were dull on him, but I saw that I had been wrong: the life in them was not gone, it had merely sunk within, waiting back there as if in ambush. She said quietly, "I saw him."

"You saw perhaps the hole in his back. The hole made by the knife of the man who killed him."

"I saw it."