“Just now. From you.” I had joined him at the door. “Let’s take a short cut. Sergeant. The long way would be for you to bark at me a while, getting upset because I won’t unload, and then you would take me to Homicide West, only a short walk, which you have no right to do, so
“You admit it’s connected.”
“Nuts. You’re not the DA and we’re not in court. Of course Mr Wolfe will want some details-when and how he was killed, and by whom, if you know.”
Purley opened his mouth and shut it again. When I have facts he needs, he would like to force them out by jumping up and down on my belly, but for that I would have to be lying on my back.
“With me listening,” he said.
“Sure, why not?”
“Okay. The body was found at two o’clock this afternoon behind a bush in Van Cordandt Park. It had been dragged across the grass from the edge of the road, so it was probably taken there in a car. There was one stab wound in the chest with a broad blade. No weapon found. The ME says between nine o’clock and midnight. Probably nothing taken. Eighteen dollars in his wallet. You can call Wolfe on the phone in here.”
“Any leads?”
“No.”
“When or where he went last night, or who with?”
“No. I was asking his wife when you came. She says she doesn’t know. The phone’s in his room, where he worked. Where he wrote. He wrote stories.”
“I know he did. What time did he go out?”
“Around eight o’clock. If he had an appointment he made it on the phone and she didn’t know anything about it. So she says. I just got started with her. I brought her here from the morgue after she identified the body. She says he told her he was going to see somebody and might be late, and that was all. If Wolfe wants to know what he had in his stomach he’ll have to wait until-”
“Don’t be flippant. Where’s the phone?”