The Mother Hunt (Rex Stout Library)

Monday's crop was more than twice as big as Sunday's, and Sally had changed the films at noon, so there were six rolls. Fifty-four exposures altogether, and one of them was worth its weight in rubies. I got them to 47th Street before six o'clock, but Al couldn't run them through that evening: two of his men were on vacation and one was home sick, and he was plugged up. I persuaded him to let me in at eight in the morning and took them home with me. While we were at the dinner table Saul phoned. The hackie's name was Sidney Bergman and he had welcomed a finif. He had picked up the fare on Madison Avenue between 52nd and 53rd Streets, taken her straight to the square, and back to 52nd and Park. He had never seen her before and knew nothing about her. I told Saul to keep an eye out for her at the square in the morning, she might come back for another look, and then come to the office and wait for me.

It was a quarter to twelve Tuesday morning when I got to the office with the prints. I could have made it half an hour sooner, but I had taken the time at the Posart Camera Exchange to make packets for Al to send to Krug and Haft and Bingham. If Lucy didn't know her, one of them might. Wolfe was at his desk with beer, and Saul was in the red leather chair with wine. A bottle of the Corton Charlemagne was on the stand at his elbow. Apparently they were discussing literature; there were three books on Wolfe's desk and one in his hand, open. I went and sat and listened. Yep, literature. I got up and started out and was stopped by Wolfe's voice.

Yes, Archie?

I turned. I hate to interrupt. I approached Saul. Feel thy pictures, mister? I handed them to him.

She didn't show this morning, he said. His hands were as deft with the prints as they were with a poker deck. A glance at each one was enough until he was about halfway through, when he tilted one for better light, nodded, and held it out. That's her.

I took it. It was a good clear shot, three-quarter face, angled up as most of them were. Wide forehead, eyes the right distance apart, nose rather narrow, mouth rather wide, chin a little pointed. The eyes were fixed, focused to the right, concentrated.

She could be attractive, I said.

She is, Saul said. She walks straight and smooth.

Details?

Five feet seven. Hundred and twenty pounds. In the upper thirties.