The Rubber Band

"What's that?" Skinner sat up, croaking, Hombert goggled. Cramer, who had finally got his cigar lit, jerked it up with his lip so that the ash fell to the rug. Skinner went on, "What are you trying to hand us? Clivers called on you today?"

Wolfe nodded. "He was here over an hour. Perhaps I shouldn't say today, since it is nearly one o'clock Wednesday morning. Yes, Lord Clivers called- We drank eight bottles of beer, and he greatly admired that terrestrial globe you see there."

Without taking his cigar from his mouth, Cramer rumbled, "I'll be damned." Hombert still goggled.

Skinner stared, and at length observed, "I've never heard of your being a plain liar, Wolfe, but you're dishing it up."

"Dishing it up?" Wolfe looked at me. "Does that mean lying, Archie?"

"Naw," I grinned, "it's just rhetoric."

"Indeed." Wolfe reached to push the button, and leaned back. "So you see, gentlemen, I not only have superior knowledge in this affair, I have it from a superior source. Lord Clivers gave me much interesting information, which of course I cannot consider myself free to reveal." He turned his eyes on the Police Commissioner. "I understand, Mr. Hombert, that Mr. Devore, Mr. Cramer, and you were all in communication with him, protecting him, following the death of Mr. Scovil. It's too bad he didn't see fit to take you into his confidence. Maybe he will do so now, if you approach him properly."

Hombert sputtered, "I don't believe this. We'll check up on this."

"Do so." Wolfe opened the bottle and filled his glass. "Will you have beer, gendemen? No? Water? Whisky? Miss Fox? Miss Lindquist? You haven't asked Miss Lindquist anything. Must she sit here all night?"

Skinner said, "I could use a good stiff highball. Listen, Wolfe, are you telling this straight?"

"Of course I am. Fritz, serve what is required. Why would I be so foolish as to invent such a tale? Let me suggest that the ladies be permitted to retire."

'"Well…" Skinner looked at Hombert. Hombert, tight-lipped, shrugged his shoulders. Skinner turned and asked abruptly, "Your name is Hilda Lindquist?"

Her strong square face looked a little startled at the suddenness of it, then was lifted by her chin. "Yes."

"You heard everything Clara Fox said. Do you agree with it?"

She stared. "What do you mean, agree with it?"

"I mean, as far as you know, is it true?"

"Certainly it's true."

"Where do you live?"

"Plainview, Nebraska. Near there."

"When did you get to New York?"

"Last Thursday. Thursday afternoon."