The main entrance to the apartment house is on Seventy-fifth Street, but the service entrance is on Seventy-fourth Street. I phoned her at half past ten. I told my chauffeur to have my car out front at half past eleven. At half past eleven I went out and got in my car and was driven to my friend’s address. I didn’t look behind to see if I was being followed because I was afraid the chauffeur would notice. I got out and went into the apartment house-the men there know me-and I went to the basement and through to the service entrance on Seventy-fourth Street, and Helen Blount was there in her car, and I got in, and she drove me here. So I don’t think there’s the slightest chance that they know I’m seeing Nero Wolfe. Do you?”

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.”