Intending to phone again at midnight, I lay down on the couch to wait, and then – it may be hard to believe but I went to sleep and didn't wake up until nearly seven o'clock. I thought it over and decided not to tell Mr. Demarest or anybody else. During a show season there are lots of people going up and down in those elevators in that building after hours, and I thought they wouldn't remember about me, and my name wasn't in the book because they know me so well and they're not strict about it. That was dumb, wasn't it?"

Wolfe acquiesced with a restrained groan.

She finished the story. "Of course I had to go to work as if nothing had happened. It wasn't easy, but I did, and the place was full of people, police and detectives, when I got there. I had only been there a few minutes when they took me to a fitting room to ask questions, and like a fool I told them I hadn't been there last night when they already knew about it."

Cynthia fluttered a hand. "When they were through with me I phoned Mr. Demarest's office and he was out at lunch. So I came here."

VII

Wolfe heaved a sigh that filled his whole interior. "Well." He opened his eyes and half closed them again. "You said you want my help in this new circumstance. What do you want me to do? Keep you from being convicted of murder?"

"Convicted?" Cynthia goggled at him. "Of murdering my uncle?" Her chin hinges began to give. "I wouldn't -"

"Lay off," I growled at Wolfe, "unless you want to make me kiss her again. She's not a crybaby, but your direct approach is really something. Use synonyms."

"She's not hungry again, is she?" he demanded peevishly. But he eased it. "Miss Nieder. If you're on the defense and intend to stay there, get a lawyer. I'm no good for that. If you want your uncle's murderer caught, whoever it is, and doubt whether the police are up to it, get me. Which do you want, a lawyer or me?"



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