Murder by the Book

"What the devil are you suggesting?" Wolfe demanded. I not only kept my face straight, I stepped in, for three good reasons: we needed the business, I wanted to get a look at Baird Archer, and I did not want John R. Wellman to go back and tell Peoria that New York detectives debauched stenographers wholesale on order.

"You misunderstand," I told Wellman. "Much obliged for the compliment, but by intimacy Mr. Wolfe meant holding hands. He's right that sometimes I seem to get along with young women, but it's because I'm shy and they like that. I like what you said about its being your money. You'll have to take my word for it. If things start developing beyond what I think you would approve, I'll either remember it's your money and back off or I'll take off of the expense account all items connected with that subject."

"I'm not a prude," Wellman protested.

"This is farcical!" Wolfe bellowed.

"I'm not a prude," Wellman insisted manfully, "but I don't know those young women. I know this is New York, but some of them may be virgins."

"Absolutely possible," I agreed. I reproved Wolfe. "Mr. Wellman and I understand each other. His money is not to be used beyond a certain point, and he'll take my word for it. That right, Mr. Wellman?"

"I guess that'll do," he conceded. Meeting my eyes, he decided bis glasses needed cleaning, removed them, and wiped them with his handkerchief. "Yes, that'll do."

Wolfe snorted. "There is still my question. The expense, the time it will take, the slender prospect of success. Also it will be in effect an investigation of the death of Leonard Dykes, not of your daughter. The approach will be oblique in more ways than one. Well, sir? Do we proceed or quit?"

"We proceed." Our client, still our client, put his glasses back on. "If I might-I would like to be assured that our relations are confidential. I wouldn't want my wife or my pastor to know about this-uh-this development."

Wolfe was looking as if he might bellow again, so I put in fast, "They won't, not from us. No one will."

"That's good. Do you want another check?"

Wolfe said we didn't, not just yet. That seemed to dispose of all the issues, but Wellman wanted to ask some questions, chiefly about Rachel Abrams and the building where her office was. Apparently he intended to go up there and poke around, and I was all for it, anything to get him outside before he got to worrying again about virgins, or Wolfe's resentment at having to confer with a client got out of hand.