Prisoner's Base (2010)
“I followed him by ear—crossing to his chair behind his desk, getting his four thousand ounces seated and adjusted in comfort, ringing for beer, grunting as he reached for the book he was reading, left there by him two hours earlier, his place marked by a counterfeit ten-dollar bill which had been autographed in red ink by a former Secretary of the Treasury in appreciation of services rendered. I also caught, by ear, Wolfe speaking to Fritz when he brought the beer.
“Did you put this money here,... Fritz?”
Of course that forced me. I swiveled. “No, sir, I did.”
“Indeed. Thank you, Fritz.” He got his eighteen-carat opener from the drawer, uncapped a bottle, and poured. Fritz departed. Wolfe let the foam subside a little, not too much, lifted the glass, and took two healthy swallows. Putting the glass down, he tapped the new non-counterfeit fifties, still in a fan under the paperweight, with a fingertip, and demanded, “Well? Flummery?”
“No, sir.”
“Then what?”
I bubbled with eager frankness.MoreLess
“Did you put this money here,... Fritz?”
Of course that forced me. I swiveled. “No, sir, I did.”
“Indeed. Thank you, Fritz.” He got his eighteen-carat opener from the drawer, uncapped a bottle, and poured. Fritz departed. Wolfe let the foam subside a little, not too much, lifted the glass, and took two healthy swallows. Putting the glass down, he tapped the new non-counterfeit fifties, still in a fan under the paperweight, with a fingertip, and demanded, “Well? Flummery?”
“No, sir.”
“Then what?”
I bubbled with eager frankness.MoreLess
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