Carla said, "I don't go."

"Oh." I looked at her. "You won't?"

"No."

"Would you rather go to police headquarters and entertain the homicide squad?"

"I won't-I want to go away. I must go away. Mr Driscoll said he would help me."

"Yeah. Well, he wasn't quick enough on his feet. Even after all his fencing lessons. Anyway, you would have been nabbed downstairs. Do you realize at all the kind of spot you're inhabiting right now?"

"I realize-" She stopped to make her voice work, "I'm in a terrible fix. Oh-terrible! You don't know how terrible!"

"Wrong again. I do know. Would I be staging a damn fool stunt like this to get you to Nero Wolfe if I didn't?"

"It won't do any good to take me to Nero Wolfe. I won't talk to him. I won't talk to anybody."

Driscoll went over and stood in front of her. "Look here, Miss Lovchen," he said, "I don't think that's a sensible attitude. If you don't want to talk to the police, I can understand that. You may have a reason that's absolutely commendable. But sooner or later you'll have to talk to somebody, and if you're not careful it will be a lawyer, and then you are up against it. From what I have heard of this Nero Wolfe. "

He was still jabbering away when the phone announced that the bellboy was in the ante-room.

I shooed Driscoll and Carla into Driscoll's room and had the bellboy sent in to me. He looked about right, maybe an inch taller than her, but not too skinny or too husky. He was grinning because he could see it was a good joke. I opened the parcel for him while he took his uniform off, and handed him a couple of dollars and told him:

"Put your clothes on and sit here. It's a nice view from the window. Maybe twenty minutes. A blue-eyed girl will come and tell you when to go. Return to the hotel and they'll give you another uniform to work in. That two bucks was just for your trouble. Here's a finiff if its effect will be to keep your trap entirely closed regarding the fun we're having. Okay?"

He said it was, and sounded believable. I gave him the five-spot, gathered up the uniform and cap and wrapping paper, and went to the other room, shutting him in.

Carla, on the edge of a chair, and the secretary, kneeling on the rug in front of her, were busy getting her shoes changed, while Driscoll, with his lips screwed up and his hands in his pockets, gazed down at the operation. Carla stood up and stamped, and said they were all right. I handed the uniform to her and said go ahead, but she would have to take off her clothes or it would look bunchy, and told Driscoll:

"Turn your back "

He blushed rosy. "I. I can go in there-"

"I forgot you're modest. Suit yourself. Back-turning will do me."

He went and looked through a window, and I, facing the same way, regarded him suspiciously. It was getting dark outdoors and the lights were on in the room, and under those circumstances a windowpane is a fairly good mirror. I admit I may have been doing him an injustice. I spread the wrapping paper out on his desk and, when the secretary handed me Carla's clothes, including coat and hat, made a bundle and got it tied up.

The secretary said, "Look, it's tight around under the arms."

I looked. "Naturally. What would you expect? I think it'll do. Walk to the door and back." Carla walked. I frowned. "The hips are bad. I mean they're good, but you understand me. Put the cap on. No, you'll have to stuff the hair under better than that. There by the left ear. That's it. I believe we'll make it. What do you think?"

The secretary said coldly, "I hope so. It's your idea."

Driscoll crabbed, "It's no good. I'd know her across the street."

"Oh," I said sarcastically, "we wouldn't try to fool you. There's hundreds of people going and coming in that lobby, and why should they be interested in a bellboy? Anyway, we'll take a shot at it." I got the parcel under my arm and confronted Carla. "Now, we have nothing to fear on this floor. We'll go down in the same elevator. You'll leave the elevator before me at the main floor. Walk straight to the Lexington Avenue entrance and on out, and don't look behind or around. I'll be following you all right. Turn right and keep going on across 43rd Street. Between 43rd and 42nd there'll be taxis at the kerb. Hop into one and tell the driver to take you to 37th Street and Tenth Avenue-"

The secretary put in an oar: "You'll be with her-"

"I'll be behind her in another taxi. There's a chance that one of those birds in the lobby knows me and will be curious enough to follow me out, in which case I don't want to be seen going for a ride with a bellboy, especially a bellboy with hips. 37th Street and Tenth Avenue. Got that?"

Carla nodded.

"Okay. Stay there in the taxi till I come. I'll probably be right behind you, but you stay there. If you try a trick, you're done. Every cop in New York is looking for you. Understand?"

"Yes, but I want-I must-"

"What you want is a different matter entirely, like the guy that fell out of the airplane. Will you go to that corner and stay there in the taxi?"

"Yes."

"Right. Good-bye, folks. In ten minutes, not sooner, send the bellboy home. I'll take you on with the йpйe some day, Driscoll."

He looked as if he was about ready to cry as he shook hands with her. The secretary looked as arctic as ever, but I noticed her voice was a little husky as she wished Carla good luck.

We departed. As she went along the corridor ahead of me on the way to the elevator, she looked kind of preposterous, but of course I saw not only what I saw, but also what I knew. The other passengers in the elevator gave her a glance or two but nothing alarming. At the main floor she preceded me out and marched through the lobby, dodging as necessary in the crowd, and it began to look like everything was jake when a call came from my right:

"Hey, Goodwin! Archie!"

Chapter Seventeen It was Sergeant Purley Stebbins coming at me.

The danger was Carla, but for once she acted as if she had some brains. She certainly heard my name called, but she didn't scream or stop and turn around or break into a run. She just kept on going to the entrance. I saw that out of the corner of my eye as I greeted Purley with a hearty grin.

"Well, wellllllll!"

"It may be," he growled. "What are you doing here?"

I looked around stealthily to guard against eavesdroppers, put my mouth within two inches of his big red ear, and whispered into it, "None of your goddam business."

He grunted, "It's quite a coincidence."

"What is?"

"Your being here in this building."

I tapped him on the chest. "Now, that's funny."

"What's funny?"

"Your saying it's quite a coincidence. It's funny, because that's exactly what I was going to say. Mind if I say it? It's quite a coincidence."

"Go to hell."

"Same to you, and many of them. May I ask, what are you doing in this building?" I glanced around. "You and all your playmates."

"Go to hell."

"How's the roads?"

"Whatta you got in the bundle?"

"Revolvers, daggers, narcotics, smuggled jewels, and a bottle of blood. Want to look at it?"

"Go to hell."

I shrugged politely, told him I'd meet him at the corner of Fire and Brimstone, and left him.

That was okay. But the danger was with Carla having such a fixed idea about going away from America, that she might be keeping her promise and she might not. Even so, I didn't jump into a taxi at the entrance. I hoofed it to the corner and dropped into Bigger's drugstore and stood there. Since it had another exit on 43rd, anyone Purley sent on my tail would either have to pop in after me or make it to the turn in a hurry where he could see both doors. No one did that. I left by 43rd, crossed the street and entered Grand Central the back way, did another manoeuvre in the smoking-room to make doubly sure, went out to Madison Avenue, jumped into a taxi, and sat on the edge of the seat with my fingers crossed and sweat on my brow until we got to the rendezvous and I saw she was there.