Over My Dead Body

Ten minutes later I went back to the office. I hadn't heard the elevator, so I knew he was still there. Not only was he still there, but he had just received a fresh consignment of beer.

I took a good stretch accompanied by a yawn. "Well," I observed good-naturedly, "that was a damn profitable case. You turned loose of about four centuries, not counting loss of brain tissue, and what you got out of it was one shapely responsibility and nothing else."

He put down his empty glass and said nothing.

"There is one thing," I announced, "that I would like to have cleared up now, once and for all. I was at fault in one respect, and only one. I should not have left the front door ajar when I went down to the sidewalk when Cramer called me. Aside from that, I couldn't help it. The nervy little devil had come along to the Barretts' chauffeur five minutes before we went out and told him she was supposed to meet his employer there, and he opened the door for her so she could wait inside the car. Two dicks saw it, though they didn't recognize her in the dim light, and they kindly said nothing about it. She was out of the car, behind my back, and starting up the steps before I knew she was there. There wasn't a chance in the world of catching her."

Wolfe shrugged. "I managed without you," he murmured in an absolutely insufferable tone.

I gritted my teeth, and as soon as I had got it swallowed, yawned. "Okay," I said sleepily. "There are, however, one or two little questions. What was in the envelope you gave that dick to give her?"

"Nothing. Only a sentence saying that she was not my client, and, under the terms as stated, never had been."

"And what was it she said as she went out? 'Teega mee bornie roosa,' or something like that."

"That was her native tongue."

"Yeah. What does it mean?"

"'Over my dead body.'"

"Is that so?" I humphed. "She called the turn, then. I guess that's all I need, except maybe one thing: Such items as her claiming your help by using Carla's adoption paper for herself-I get all that. But I'll be darned if I can see why Ludlow said she went to the locker-room to get his cigarettes. Him a British spy and her a Balkan princess. Why did he-"

"He didn't. She went to the locker-room to steal something from his coat. Probably that paper which she sent here the next morning to be hid in a safe place, because he had previously stolen it from her. And he was letting her know that he knew that."