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thing'
    I dont think. Mr. Wolfe does the thinking. Im just a crummy little stooge.
    Youd better go. Please go!
    I stood up and I hesitated. My feeling was that I had run through it smooth as silk, as instructed, but at that point I wasnt sure. Should I make a play of trying to crowd her into a yes or no, or leave it hanging'
    I couldnt stand there forever, debating it with her staring at me, so I told her, I do think its a good offer. The numbers in the phone book.
    She had nothing to tell my back as I walked to the foyer. I let myself out,
    descended the three flights, walked to Lexington, found a phone booth in a drugstore, and dialed the number I knew best. In a moment Wolfes voice was in my ear.
    Okay, I said. Im in a booth. I just left her.
    In what mind'
    Im not sure. She had Carol Berk hid in a closet. After that had been attended to and we were alone I followed the script, and she was impressed. Im so good at explaining things that she didnt have to ask questions. The light wasnt very good, but as far as I could tell the prospect of collecting ten grand wasnt absolutely repulsive to her, and neither was the idea of flipping Miss Goheen into the soup. She was torn. She told me to go, and I thought it wise to oblige. When I left she was in a clinch with herself.
    What is she going to do'
    Dont quote me. But I told her wed have to discuss exactly what she would tell the cops, so well hear from her if she decides to play. Do you want my guesses'
    Yes.
    Well. On her spilling it to the cops, the one thing that would spoil it, forty to one against. That isnt how her mind will work. On her deciding to play ball with us, twenty to one against. Shes not tough enough. On her just keeping it to herself, fifteen to one against. On general principles. On her felling Miss Goheen, ten to one against. She hates her too much. On her telling Carol Berk,
    two to one against, but I wouldnt dig deep on that one either way. On her telling Mr. H, even money, no matter who is a Commie and who isnt. It would show him, how fine and big-hearted and noble she is. She could be, at that. It has been done. Is Saul there'
    Yes. I never spent anybodys money, not even my own, on a slimmer chance.
    Especially your own. And incidentally sticking my neck out. You dont know the meaning of fear when it comes to sticking my neck out. Do we proceed'
    What alternative is there'
    None. Has Saul got his men there'
    Yes.
    Tell him to step on it and meet me at the northeast corner of Sixty-ninth and Fifth Avenue. She could be phoning Heath right now.
    Very well. Then youll come home'
    I said I would, hung up, and got out of the oven. Nothing would have been more appreciated right then than a large coke-and-lime with the ice brushing my lips,
    but it was possible that Delia was already phoning him and he was at home to get the call, so I marched on by the fountain and out.
    A taxi got me to the corner of Sixty-ninth and Fifth in six minutes. My watch said 9:42.
    I strolled east on Sixty-ninth and stopped across the street from the canopied entrance of the towering tenement of which Henry Jameson Heath was a tenant. It was no casing problem for me, since Saul Panzer had been there in the afternoon to make a survey and spot foxholes. That was elaborate but desirable, because it was to be a very fancy tail, using three shifts of three men each, with Saul in charge of one, Fred Durkin of the second, and Orrie Cather of the third. Fifteen skins an hour that setup would cost, which was quite a disbursement on what Wolfe had admitted was a one-in-twenty chance. Seeing no one but a uniformed doorman in evidence around the canopy, I moseyed back to the corner.
    A taxi pulled up, and three men got out. Two of them were just men whose names I knew and with whose records I was fairly familiar, but the third was Saul Panzer, the one guy I want within hearing the day I get hung on the face of a cliff with jet eagles zooming at me. With his saggy shoulders and his face all nose,