If Death Ever Slept

“I’m just curious. If you’ll satisfy my curiosity I’ll satisfy yours someday. Have they found the bullet?”

Lon is a fine guy and a good poker player, but he has the occupational disease of all journalists: before he’ll answer a question he has to ask one. So he did. “Has Wolfe got a thumb in it already?”

“Not a thumb, a foot. No, he hasn’t, not for the record. If and when, you first as usual. Have they found the bullet?”

“Yes. It just came in. A thirty-eight, that’s all so far. Who is Wolfe’s client?”

“J. Edgar Hoover. Have they arrested anybody?”

“No. My God, give ‘em time to sweep up and sit down and think. It was only twelve hours ago. I’ve been thinking ever since I heard your voice just now. What I think, I think it was you who called headquarters last night and told them to go and look, and I’m sore. You should have called me first.”

“I should, at that. Next time. Have they or you or anyone got any kind of a lead?”

“To the murderer, no. So far the most interesting item is that up to a couple of weeks ago he was working for a guy named Otis Jarrell, you know who he is-by God! It was him you phoned me the other day to get dope on!”

“Sure it was. That’s one reason-”

“Is Jarrell Wolfe’s client?”

“For the present, as far as you’re concerned, Wolfe has no client. I was saying, that’s one reason I’m calling now. I thought you might remember I had asked about him, and I wanted to tell you not to trust your memory until further notice. Just go ahead and gather the news and serve the public. You may possibly hear from me someday.”

“Come on up here. I’ll buy you a lunch.”

“I can’t make it, Lon. Sorry. Don’t use any wooden bullets.”

As I pushed the phone back Orrie asked, “What’s an arquebus?”

“Figure it out yourself. A combination of an ark and a bus. Amphibian.”

“Then don’t.” He sat up. “If I’m not supposed to be in on whatever you think you’re doing, okay, but I have a right to know what an arquebus is. Do you want me out of here?”

I told him no, I could think better with him there for contrast.

But he got bounced when Wolfe came down at eleven o’clock. From the kitchen I had buzzed the plant rooms on the house phone to tell him I was there, so he wasn’t surprised to see me. He went to his desk, glanced at the morning mail, which was skimpy, straightened his desk blotter, and focused on me. “Well?”

“In my opinion,” I said, “the time has come for a complete report.”