The Second Confesion

The day was cloudy and windy, not one of June's best samples, though no rain fell. When we were approaching Stony Acres and reached the spot on the secondary road where Rony and I had been assaulted by highwaymen, I stopped to show Wolfe the terrain, and told him Saul had reported that the take from Rony had been three hundred and twelve bucks, and was awaiting instructions for disposal.

Wolfe wasn't interested in the terrain. “Are we nearly there?” Tes, sir. A mile and a half.” “Go ahead.” When we rolled up to the front entrance of the mansion, we were honoured. It was not the sad looking guy in a mohair uniform who appeared and came to us, but James U. Sperling himself. He was not smiling. He spoke through the open car window.

“What does this mean?” He couldn't be blamed for not knowing that Wolfe would never stay in a vehicle any longer than he had to, since their acquaintance was brief. Before replying, Wolfe pushed the door open and manipulated himself out on to the gravel.

Meanwhile Sperling was going on. “I tried to get you on the phone, but by the time I got the number you had left. What are you trying to do? You know damn well I don't want this.” Wolfe met his eye. Tfou looked me up, Mr Sperling. You must know that I am not harebrained. I assure you that I can justify this move, but I can do so only by proceeding with it. When I have explained matters to you and your family, we'll see if you can find any alternative to approval. I'll stake my reputation that you can't.” Sperling wanted to argue it then and there, but Wolfe stood pat, and seeing that he had to choose between letting us come on in and ordering us off the place, the Chairman of the Board preferred the former. He and Wolfe headed for the door. Since no help had shown up, I took the car around the house to a gravelled plaza in the rear, screened by shrubbery, left it there, and made for the nearest entrance, which was the west terrace. As I was crossing it a door opened and there was Madeline. I told her hello.

She inspected me with her head cocked to one side and the big dark eyes half open. “You don't look so battered.” “No? I am. Internal injuries. But not from the hold-up. From-” I waved a hand.