The Chairman of the Board sat a moment gazing at Wolfe, then gazed a longer moment at his younger daughter, and then arose and went to her and said, “He says he can prove it, Gwenn.” I am not lightning, but I had caught on quite a while back that Wolfe's real target was Gwenn, so it was her I was interested in. When Wolfe had started in, the line of her pretty lips and the stubbornness in her eyes had made it plain that she simply didn't intend to believe a word he said, but as he went on telling about a mysterious X who couldn't possibly be her Louis she had relaxed a little, and was even beginning to think that maybe it was an interesting story when suddenly Rony's name popped in, and then the shot straight at her. When she felt Madeline's hand on her shoulder she put her own hand up to place it on top of her sister's, and said in a low voice, “It's all right, Mad.” Then she spoke louder to Wolfe.
“It's a lot of bunk!” When Sperling stood in front of her, Wolfe and I couldn't see her. Wolfe stated to Sperling's back, “I've barely started, you know. I've merely given you the background. Now I must explain the situation.” Gwenn was on her feet at once, saying firmly, “You won't need me for that. I know what the situation is well enough.” They all started talking. Madeline had hold of Gwenn's arm. Sperling was out of her depth but was flapping. Jimmy was being completely ignored but kept trying.
Wolfe allowed them a couple of minutes and then cut in sharply.
“Confound it, are you a bunch of ninnies?” Sperling wheeled on him. “You shouldn't have done it like this! You should have told me! You should-” “Nonsense! Utter nonsense. For months you have been telling your daughter that Mr Rony is a Communist, and she has quite properly challenged you to prove it.
If you had tried to tell her this she would have countered with the same challenge, and where would you have been? I am better armed. Will you please get out of the way so I can see her?-Thank you.-Miss Sperling, you were not afraid to challenge your father to show you proof. But now you want to walk out. So you're afraid to challenge me? I don't blame you.” “I'm not afraid of anything!” “Then sit down and listen. All of you. Please?” They got back to their chairs. Gwenn wasn't so sure now that all she needed was a simple and steadfast refusal to believe a word. Her lower lip was being held tight by her teeth, and her eyes were no longer straight and stubborn at Wolfe.
She even let me have a questioning, unsure glance, as if I might contribute something that would possibly help.
Wolfe focused on her. “I didn't skimp on the background, Miss Sperling, because without it you can't decide intelligently, and, though your father is my client, the decision rests with you. The question that must be answered is this: am I to proceed to assemble proof or not? If I-” “You said you had proof!” “No, I didn't. I said I could prove it, and I can-and if I must I will. I would vastly prefer not to. One way out would be for me simply to quit-to return the retainer your father has paid me, shoulder the expense of my outlay on this job and restoration of my damaged property, and let X know that I have scuttled.
That would unquestionably be the sensible and practical thing to do, and I do not brag that I'm not up to it. It is a weakness I share with too many of my fellow men, that my self-conceit will not listen to reason. Having undertaken to do a job offered to me by your father in good faith, and with no excuse for withdrawal that my vanity will accept, I do not intend to quit.
“Another way out would be for you to assume that I am not a liar; or that if I am one, at least I am incapable of such squalid trickery as the invention of this rigmarole in order to earn a fee by preventing you from marrying a man who has your affection and is worthy of it. If you make either of those assumptions, it follows that Mr Rony is a blackguard, and since you are plainly not a fool you will have done with him. But-” “You said you could prove it!” Wolfe nodded. “So I can. If my vanity won't let me scuttle, and if you reject both those assumptions, that's what I'll have to do. Now you see why I gave you so full a sketch of X. It will be impossible to brand Mr Rony without bringing X in, and even if that were feasible X would get in anyway. Proof of that already exists, on the roof of my house. You may come with me and take a look at it-by the way, I failed to mention another possibility.” Wolfe looked at our client. “You, sir, could of course pay me my bill to date and discharge me. In that event I presume your daughter would consider my indictment of Mr Rony as unproven as yours, and she would proceed-to do what? I can't say; you know her better than I do. Do you want to send me home?” Sperling was slumped in his chair, his elbow resting on its arm and his chin propped on his knuckles, with his gaze now on Gwenn and now on Wolfe. “Not now,” he said quietly. “Only-a question-how much of that was straight fact?” “Every word.” “What is X's name?” “That will have to wait. If we are forced into this, and you still want me to work for you, you will of course have to have it.” “All right, go ahead.” Wolfe went back to Gwenn. “One difficulty in an attempt to expose X, which is what this would amount to, will be the impossibility of knowing when we are rubbing against him. I am acquainted, more or less, with some three thousand people living or working in New York, and there aren't more than ten of them of whom I could say with certainty that they are in no way involved in X's activities. None may be; any may be. If that sounds extreme, Miss Sperling, remember that he has been devising and spreading his nets all your lifetime, and that his talents are great.
“So I can't match him in ubiquity, no matter how many millions your father contributes to the enterprise, but I must match his inaccessibility, and I shall. I shall move to a base of operations which will be known only to Mr Goodwin and perhaps two others; for it is not a fantasy of trepidation, but a painful fact, that when he perceives my objective, as he soon will, he will start all his machinery after me. He has told me on the telephone how much he admires me, and I was flattered, but now I'll have to pay for it. He will know it is a mortal encounter, and he does not underrate me-I only wish he did.” Wolfe lifted his shoulders and let them down again. “I'm not whimpering-or perhaps I am. I shall expect to win, but there's no telling what the cost will be. It may take a year, or five years, or ten.” He gestured impatiently. “Not for finishing your Mr Rony; that will be the merest detail. It won't be long until you'll have to talk with him through the grill in the visitors' room, if you still want to see him. But X will never let it stop there, though he might want me to think he would. Once started, I'll have to go on to the end. So the cost in time can't be estimated.
“Neither can the cost in money. I certainly haven't got enough, nothing like it, and I won't be earning any, so your father will have to foot the bill, and he will have to commit himself in advance. If I stake my comfort, my freedom, and my life, he may properly be expected to stake his fortune. Whatever his resources may be-” Wolfe interrupted himself. “Bah!” he said scornfully. “You deserve complete candour. As I said, Mr Rony is a mere trifle; he'll be disposed of in no time, once I am established where I can be undisturbed. But I hope I have given you a clear idea of what X is like. He will know I can't go in without money and, when he finds he can't get at me, will try to stop the source of supply. He will try many expedients before he resorts to violence, for he is a man of sense and knows that murder should always be the last on the list, and of course the murder of a man of your father's position would be excessively dangerous; but if he thought it necessary he would risk it. I don't-” “You can leave that out,” Sperling cut in. “If she wants to consider the cost in money she can, but I'll not have her saving my life. That's up to me.” Wolfe looked at him. “A while ago you told me to go ahead. What about it now? Do you want to pay me off?” “No. You spoke about your vanity, but I've got more up than vanity. I'm not quitting and I don't intend to.” “Listen, Jim-” his wife began, but to cut her off he didn't even have to speak.