The Second Confesion

“I could, yes.” He drank and put the glass down. “But it would be a waste of Mr Sperling's money. Even if that is Mr Rony's card and he is a party member, as he well may be, I suspect that it is merely a masquerade.” He wiped his lips. “I have no complaint of your performance, Archie, which was in character, and I should know your character; and I can't say you transgressed your instructions, since you had a free hand, but you might have phoned before assuming the risks of banditry.” “Really.” I was sarcastic. “Excuse me, but since when have you invited constant contact on a little job like tripping up a would-be bridegroom?” “I haven't. But you were aware that another factor had entered, or at least been admitted as conjecture. It is no longer conjecture. You didn't phone me, but someone else did. A man-a voice you are acquainted with. So am I.” “You mean Arnold Zeck?” “No name was pronounced. But it was that voice. As you know, it is unmistakable.” “What did he have to say?” “Neither was Mr Rony's name pronounced, nor Mr Sperling's. But he left no room for dubiety. In effect I was told to cease forthwith any inquiry into the activities or interests of Mr Rony or suffer penalties.” “What did you have to say?” “I-demurred.” Wolfe tried to pour beer, found the bottle was empty, and set it down. “His tone was more peremptory than it was the last time I heard it, and I didn't fully conceal my resentment. I stated my position in fairly strong terms.