The Rubber Band

I jumped from habit and not from enthusiasm. I was half sore. I didn't like it. I found Saul in the kitchen drinking port wine and telling Fred and Fritz stories, and led him to the office. He stood in front of Wolfe's desk.

"Yes, sir."

Wolfe spoke, not to him. "Miss Lindquist, this is Mr. Saul Panzer. I would trust him further than might be thought credible. He is himself a bachelor, but has acquaintances who are married and possibly even friends, with the usual living quarters-an apartment or a house. Have you anything to say to him?"

But the Lindquist mind was slow. She didn't get it. Clara Fox asked Wolfe, "May I?"

"Please do."

She turned to Saul. "Miss Lindquist would like to be in seclusion for a while- a few days- she doesn't know how long. She thought you might know of a place… one of your friends…"

Saul nodded. "Certainly, Miss Lindquist." He turned to Wolfe. "Is there a warrant out?"

"No. Not yet."

"Shall I give the address to Archie?"

"By no means. If I need to communicate with Miss Lindquist I can do so through General Delivery. She can notify me on the telephone what branch."

"Shall we go out the back way onto Thirty-fourth Street?"

"I was about to suggest it. When you are free again, return here. Tonight." Wolfe moved his eyes. "Is there anything of value in your luggage at the hotel. Miss Lindquist?"

She was standing up. She shook her head. "Not much. No."

"Have you any money?"

"I have thirty-eight dollars and my ticket home."

"Good. Opulence. Good night. Miss Lindquist. Sleep well."

Clara Fox was up too. She went to the other woman and put her hands on her shoulders and kissed her on the mouth. "Good night, Hilda. It's rotten, but… keep your chin up."

Hilda Lindquist said in a loud voice, "Good night, everybody," and turned and followed Saul Panzer out of the room. In a few seconds I could hear their footsteps on the stairs leading down to the basement, where a door opened onto the court in the rear. We were all looking at Wolfe, who was opening a bottle of beer. I was thinking, the old lummox certainly fancies he's putting on a hot number, I suppose he'll send Miss Fox to board with his mother in Buda Pesth. It looked to me like he was stepping off over his head.

He looked at Mike Walsh. "Now, sir, your turn. I note your symptoms of disapproval, but we are doing the best we can. In the kitchen is a man named Fred Durkin, whom you have seen. Within his capacity, he is worthy of your trust and mine. I would suggest-"