"What did he say?"

"He told me what to do. I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to do exactly what he said. I don't need you for that. What I need you for, I want my husband back. Alive. I know they may have killed him already, I know that, but-" Her chin had started to work, and she pressed her lips together to stop it. She went on, "If they have, then I'll want you to find them if the police and the FBI don't. But on the phone yesterday that man said he was all right, and I believe him. I must believe him!"

She was on the edge of the chair. "But don't kidnapers often kill after they get the money? So they can't be traced or recognized? Don't they?"

"That has happened."

"Yes. That's what I need you for. Doing what he said, getting the money to them, I'll do that myself, there's nothing you can do about that. I've told my banker I'm coming to get the money this afternoon, and I'll do-"

"Half a million dollars?"

"Yes. And I'll do exactly what that man said, but that's all I can do, and I want him back. I want to be sure I'll get him back. That's what I need you for."

Wolfe grunted. "Madam. You can't possibly mean that. You are not a nincompoop. How could I conceivably proceed? The only contact with that punster or an accomplice will be your delivery of the money, and you refuse to tell me anything about it. Pfui. You can't possibly mean it."

"But I do. I do! That's why I came to you! Is there anything you can't do? Aren't you a genius? How did you get your reputation?" She took a checkfold from her bag and slipped a pen from a loop. "Will ten thousand do for a retainer?"

She had a touch of genius herself, or it was her lucky day, asking him if there was anything he couldn't do and waving a check at him. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and cupped the ends of the chair arms with his hands. I expected to see his lips start moving in and out, but they didn't; evidently this one was too tough for any help from the lip routine.