The Second Confession Read Free

Communist down, granting that he is one-especially when what is wanted is not presumption, but proof. Bah. A will-o’-the-wisp. I defined the objective and Mr Sperling agreed. See him and get details, yes. Get invited to his home, socially. Meet Mr Rony, and form an opinion of him. More important, form one of the daughter, as intimately and comprehensively as possible. Make appointments with her. Seize and hold her attention. You should be able to displace Mr Rony in a week, a fortnight at the most-and that’s the objective.' 'I’ll be damned.' I shook my head reproachfully. 'You mean make a pass at her.' 'Your terms are yours, and I prefer mine. Mr Sperling said his daughter is excessively curious. Transfer her curiosity from Mr Rony to you.' 'You mean break her heart.' 'You can stop this side of tragedy.' 'Yeah, and I can stop this side of starting.' I looked righteous and outraged.
    'You’ve gone a little too far. I like being a detective, and I like being a man, with all that implies, but I refuse to degrade whatever glamour I may-' 'Archie!' He snapped it.
    'Yes, sir.' 'With how many young women whom you met originally through your association with my business have you established personal relationships?' 'Between five and six thousand. But that’s not- 'I’m merely suggesting that you reverse the process and establish the personal relationship first. What’s wrong with that?' 'Everything.' I shrugged. 'Okay. Maybe nothing. It depends. I’ll take a look at her.' 'Good. You’re going to be late.' He started for the supply shelves.
    I raised my voice a little. 'However, I’ve still got a question, or two, rather.
    Bascom’s boys had a picnic trying to tail Rony. The first time out, before anything could have happened to make him suspicious, he had his nose up and pulled a fade. From then on not only did they have to use only the best, but often even that wasn’t good enough. He knew the whole book and some extra chapters. He may or may not be a Communist, but he didn’t learn all that in Sunday school.' 'Pfui. He’s a lawyer, isn’t he?' Wolfe said contemptuously. He took a can of Elgetrol from the shelf and began shaking it. 'Confound it, let me alone.' 'I will in a minute. The other thing, three different times, times when they didn’t lose him, he went into Bischoff’s Pet Shop on Third Avenue and stayed over an hour, and he doesn’t keep any pets.' Wolfe stopped shaking the can of Elgetrol. He looked at it as if he didn’t know what it was, hesitated, put the can back on the shelf, and looked at me.
    'Oh,' he said, not curtly. 'He did?' 'Yes, sir.' Wolfe looked around, saw the oversized chair in its place, and went to it and sat down.
    I wasn’t gratified at having impressed him. In fact, I would have preferred to pass the chance up, but I hadn’t dared. I remembered too well a voice-a hard, slow, precise voice, cold as last week’s corpse-which I had heard only three times altogether, on the telephone. The first time had been in January 1946, and the second and third had been more than two years later, while we were looking for the poisoner of Cyril Orchard. Furthermore, I remembered the tone of Wolfe’s voice when he said to me, when we had both hung up after the second phone call, 'I should have signalled you off, Archie, as soon as I recognized his voice. I tell you nothing because it is better for you to know nothing. You are to forget that you know his name. If ever, in the course of my business, I find that I am committed against him and must destroy him, I shall leave this house, find a place where I can work-and sleep and eat if there is time for it-and stay there until I have finished.' I have seen Wolfe tangle with some tough bozos in the years I’ve been with him, but none of them has ever had him talking like that.
    Now he was sitting glaring at me as if I had put vinegar on his caviar.
    'What do you know about Bischoff’s Pet Shop?' he demanded.
    'Nothing to speak of. I only know