Over My Dead Body

"Oh. Okay. Hold that pose. I'll be back."

I went to the office and told Wolfe. He opened his eyes, frowned, muttered something and nodded. I returned to the front and let the night-walker in, flunkeyed for him, and escorted him to the office. In the bright light he looked handsome and harassed, with his white tie somewhat crooked and his hair disarranged. He blinked at Wolfe and said he was Donald Barrett.

"So I understand. Sit down."

"Thanks." He lodged his sitter on the edge of a chair in a temporary manner. "This is a frightful stink, this thing."

Wolfe's brows went slightly up. "This thing?"

"This-up at Miltan's. Ludlow. It's murder, you know."

"I believe it is. You were among those present."

"Yes, I was, damn it. Of course, you got that from this fellow you sent up there."

"Excuse me," Wolfe murmured. "I thought you two had met. Mr Barrett, this is Mr Goodwin, my assistant."

"Oh, we met. We spoke a few words. He was guarding the door, and I asked him to let a young lady through to keep an important appointment, and he wouldn't do it."

Wolfe nodded. "That was Miss Reade."

"Oh? He told you that too?"

"Mr Goodwin tells me everything."

"I suppose he would. Naturally. He was damn bull-headed about letting Miss Reade out. He said the worst thing she could do was to leave the place and start the cops looking for her; and then, by God, he gets out himself somehow and starts them looking for him!"

"I know. He goes by whim." Wolfe was sympathetic. "Is that what you came to see me for? To reproach me for Mr Goodwin's behaviour?"

Barrett looked at him suspiciously, but Wolfe's expression was bland. "No," he said, "I just mentioned it. He was damn bull-headed. There was no reason in the world why Miss Reade should have been kept there. As far as I myself was concerned, I was perfectly willing to stand the inconvenience. But I came to see you regarding another… well, another angle. This fellow that you sent up there-you sent him to represent Miss Tormic, didn't you?"

"What fellow?"

"Your assistant, damn it!" His head went sidewise in my direction. "Goodwin."

"Yes. I'm not really obtuse, Mr Barrett, only I like the custom of designating people by their names; it's so handy. Yes, Mr Goodwin was there in the interest of Miss Tormic."

"That's what he said."

"She agreed, didn't she?"

"Sure. That was all right. But that was about that business of Driscoll's diamonds-the damn fool. What I want to know is, are you still representing her? I mean, in connexion with the murder."