Wolfe turned to me. "Archie?"

I nodded. "Good enough. Hundred to one. But if someone's waiting in Seventy-fifth Street to see her home and she never shows, he'll wonder. It would be a good idea to go back before too long and enter on Seventy-fourth and leave on Seventy-fifth. I would advise it."

Her red-rimmed eyes were at me. "Of course. What would be too long?"

"That depends on how patient and careful he is, and I don't know him." I glanced at my wrist. "It's twenty-five after twelve. You got there a little more than half an hour ago. You could reasonably be expected to stay with your friend quite a while, hours maybe. But if he knows you well enough to know that your friend Helen Blount lives there he might call her number and ask for you and be told that you're not there and you haven't been there. I have never known a kidnaper personally, but from what I've read and heard I've got the impression that they're very sensitive."

She shook her head. "He won't be told that. Helen told her maid what to say. If anyone asks for me, or her either, he'll be told that we're busy and can't come to the phone."

"Good for you. But there's Helen Blount. She knows you came to see Nero Wolfe."

"She doesn't know what for. That's all right, I can trust her, I know I can." Her eyes went back to Wolfe. "So that's how I got here. When I leave I have to go to my bank, and then I'll go back to Seventy-fourth Street." It was coming out hoarse again, and she cleared her throat and coughed. "It's my husband," she said. She got her bag and opened it and took out an envelope. "He didn't come home Sunday night, and yesterday this came in the mail."

Her chair was too far away for her to hand it to Wolfe without getting up, and of course he wouldn't, so I did. It was an ordinary off-white envelope with a typewritten address to Mrs Jimmy Vail, 994 Fifth Avenue, New York City, no zone number, and was post-marked BRYANT STA APR 23 1961 11:30 PM.