After I escorted her downstairs and into her car I went back up and had another cup of coffee. I would wait to call Wolfe until I was sure they had finished lunch. I sat and looked things over. I had slipped up on one point; I hadn't asked if Miss Dacos had been present when Morris Althaus and Frank Odell had talked with Mrs Bruner in her office. Of course Miss Dacos could tell us, but it was the kind of detail that Wolfe expects me to cover, and I expect me to too. How good a guess was it that it was Sarah Dacos who had told the cops about the three men? Not good at all, unless she had dressed it up or down either for the cops or for Mrs Bruner. She couldn't see them go to a car around the corner, and get the license number, from the window of Number 63. Then we could be getting corroboration, but for the first alternative, that the FBI killed him, not for the one we preferred. But so what, since it was no longer futile, according to Wolfe's program.
I remembered how, crossing Washington Square yesterday on my sightseeing trip, I had thought it was coincidence that Arbor Street was in the Village and Sarah Dacos lived in the Village. Now it might be more than coincidence; it might be some more cause and effect.
At three o'clock I went to Felix's office and called Lewis Hewitt's number. There's something wrong with the way the people in that palace handle phone calls. It took a good four minutes, but finally Wolfe's voice came.
"Yes. Archie?"
"Yes and no," I said, "but more yes than no. I'm at Rusterman's. Mrs Bruner and I had lunch here. If you get here before six-thirty I can report before dinner. We might as well eat here because someone is coming at nine o'clock to discuss things."
"Coming there?"
"Yes, sir.
"Why? Why not the office?"
"It will be better here. Unless you want an attractive young woman practically sitting on your lap for a couple of hours with the radio going."
"What young woman?"
"Sarah Dacos, Mrs Bruner's secretary. I'll report when you come."
"If I come. Very well." He hung up.