Over My Dead Body

"Hold it. Stay there by the door a minute." I began darting around. I took a look behind a sofa and even under it, and opened a closet door for a glance inside, and had my hand on the knob of another door leading to the rear of the flat when Fred growled:

"Hey, what about prints?"

"To hell with prints. I've got a right to look for a murderer, haven't I?" I went on through, and kept moving, bothering only with places big enough to hide a man or woman. It didn't take long, since there was only a bath, a kitchenette, and two small bedrooms. I trotted back to the front and told Fred, "All right, one, two, three, go," and he beat it.

I looked at Neya. "You're starting to tremble. You'd better sit down."

She shook her head. "I'm all right. But I… I… Carla. Where is she?"

"Search me." I had gone around the table to where the phone was and lifted it from its cradle.

"But wait-please! Why can't we… just leave? Just go and find her?"

"Sure. Splendid." I started dialling. "You certainly get charming ideas. Like the one yesterday, stuffing that junk in my pocket. Just lock up and go, huh? With those babies at Miltan's knowing we started for here and Fred's taxi-driver-"

The phone told me: "This is Nero Wolfe."

I kept my voice down. "Hallo, boss. Let's be discreet."

"Oh, yes."

"Cramer there?"

"Yes."

"Well, leave it open so that if you want to you can say it was the Salvation Army. We went to Miltan's and Carla had been there, but left for home. We came on here, 404 East 38th. Got the address?"

"Yes."

"Old house, walk-up, two flights. Neya let us in with her key. Rudolph Faber was lying on the floor dead. Hole through his coat, left breast. Shirt soaked with blood inside. No weapon. Carla not around on quick inspection. I'm phoning from right here, this room, and Neya is standing here-"

"One moment. I was empowered without reservation-"

"That's all right. Fred was tailing us and Neya went down for him and I gave it to him and he's on his way with it now. He can be traced here easy, and so can we. The place has been frisked by someone in a hurry-drawers standing open, things scattered on the floor, and so on. The number of this phone is Hammond 3-4505. Do you want me to keep on talking?"

"No."

"Do you want to ring off and let your genius work and I'll call again in three minutes?"

"No. You had better stay there, both of you. Mr Cramer is here, and I'll tell him about it. Hold the wire."