He didn't lose his head. "This is assault," he stated. "Persecution and assault," I agreed. "How can I prove you entered this room illegally if I let you leave it? Shall I get the house dick up here?"
He stood, breathing, his hungry eyes on me. I was between him and the door. He turned, went to a chair, and sat. I stayed on my feet.
"They can't get here in less than a quarter of an hour," 1 told him. "Why not say something?"
Not a word. His big jaw was clamped. I leaned against the closet door and contemplated him.
It Was nearer half an hour than a quarter before there was a knock on the door. I went and opened it and invited them to enter, and they filed in past me, and I'll be damned if the
third of the trio wasn't Gibson. He grinned at me as he went by. Leaving the door open, I detoured around them and took a look. One of them, a wiry little guy with a crooked nose, spoke.
"I'm Phil Buratti. I'm in charge."
"Good," I told him. "It's a straight tailing job." I jerked a thumb. "This is James A. Corrigan, a lawyer from New York. He'll be leaving any minute. Since he knows you, keep as close as you like. Report direct to me, here."
Buratti stared at me. "He's the subject?"
"Right. Don't lose him."
Gibson let out a guffaw that rattled the windows. Corrigan got up and marched. His direct route to the door was between the trio and me, and he took it. He went on out. The trio didn't move.
"Are you," I demanded, "waiting for the hounds?"
"Loony," Buratti said. "Come on, boys."
He led the way, and they followed.
I shut the door and went to the armchair and sat. Before I phoned Wolfe I wanted to make up my mind how thick I had been to sit there and let Corrigan walk in on me. I looked at my watch and saw 12:20, which meant 3:20 in New York. I decided that I had probably not been brilliant but there was no point in advertising it, and put in a call. The circuits were busy. Of course it was the worst time of day for it, with Los Angeles and Hollywood wanting to get New York before lunch and New York wanting to get the coast on returning from lunch. I sat, walked back and forth, and sat some more. Every ten or fifteen minutes the operator called to say the circuits were still busy. One o'clock came, and a quarter after. Finally my call got through, and I had Wolfe's voice.
