"It's hotter than yesterday," Wengert stated.

"Yeah. Would you care to make any sign at all, for instance a wink?"

"No."

"Then I'll try something more general. There has been nothing in the papers about the Commie angle, not a word, so there has been no mention of the FBI. Is the FBI working on the murder, officially or otherwise?"

"Much hotter," he said.

"It sure is. How about the others, the five dinner guests? Of course they're our meat. Any suggestions, requests, or orders? Any strings you wouldn't want us to trip on?"

"The humidity, too."

"Absolutely. I realize that you would like to tell us to lay off on general principles, but you're afraid there might be a headline tomorrow, fbi warns nero wolfe to keep hands off of rackell murder. Besides, if you give us a stop sign you'll have to say why or we'll keep going. Just to clean it up, is there any question I might ask that would take your mind off the weather?"

"No." He stood up. "It was nice to see you for old time's sake, and you can still give Wolfe my regards, but tell him to go climb a tree. Some nerve. Sending you here with that bull about wanting to clear! Why didn't he ask me to send him up the files? Come again when I'm not here."

I was on my way, but before I reached the door I turned. "The radio said this morning it would hit ninety-five," I told him and went.

10

There are always taxis at Foley Square. I removed my jacket, climbed into one, and gave an address on West Twentieth Street. When we got there my shirt was stuck to the back of the seat. I pulled loose, paid, got out, put on the jacket, and went into a building. The headquarters of the Homicide Squad, Manhattan West, was much more familiar to me than the United States Courthouse. So were the inmates, one in particular, the one sitting at a dingy little desk in a dingy little room to which I was escorted. They have never let me roam loose in that building since the day I took a snapshot of a piece of paper they were saving, though they couldn't prove it.