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I waved that aside and we aimed for the subway。
I took her to Rusterman's。 For one thing； it was the best grub in New York outside of Wolfe's own dining…room。 For another； the booths along the left wall upstairs at Rusterman's were so well partitioned that they were practically private rooms。 For another； Rusterman's was owned and bossed by Wolfe's old friend； Marko Vukcic； and I could sign the check there； whereas if I took her where I must part with cash Wolfe would have been capable of refusing to okay it as expense on the ground that I should have taken her home to eat at his table。
By the time we were seated in the booth I had collected bits of preliminary information； such as that her name was Rosa Bendini and she was assistant chief filer in the Machinery and Parts Section。 I had also reached certain conclusions； among them being that she was twenty…four years old； that she had never been at a loss in any environment or circumstances； and that she was eligible as evidence in support of Kerr Naylor's remark about virgins。
She said she didn't care for cocktails but loved wine； which of course got her an approving glance from Vukcic； who had spotted me entering and had himself escorted us upstairs…honoring not me； but his old friend Wolfe。 Then she evened up by turning him down flat on Shad Roe Mousse Pocahontas and preferring a steak。 I trailed along with her to be sociable。 When we had been left to ourselves she lost no time opening up。
〃Are you a cop； Mr。 Truett？〃
I grinned at her。 〃Now listen； girlie。 I'm easy to pick up； as you discovered； but I'm hard to take apart。 You said you had a lot to tell me。 Then we'll see what I have to tell you。 What makes you think I might be a cop？〃
〃Because you asked about Waldo Moore； and the only thing about him any more is how he got killed； and that's a thing for a cop； isn't it？〃
〃Sure。 It's also a thing for anyone who is interested。 Let's put it that I'm interested。 Are you？〃
〃You bet I am。〃
〃In what way？〃
〃I'm just interested。 I don't want to see anybody get away with murder！〃 There was a quick blaze in her eyes； one flash； up and out。 She added； 〃He was a friend of mine。〃
〃Oh； was he murdered？〃
〃Certainly he was！〃
〃By whom？〃
〃I don't know。〃 With sudden accurate movement； but nothing impetuous about it； she covered my hand； there on the tablecloth； with both of hers。 Her fingers and palms were warm and firm； and neither too moist nor too dry。 〃Or maybe I do。 What if I do know？〃
〃Well； considering your character as I know it？ I suppose you'd be a good little girl and tell papa。〃
She kept my hand covered。 〃I wish；〃 she said； 〃you had taken me where we could be alone。 I don't know how to talk to a man until after he has had his arms around me and kissed me。 Then I know what he's like。 I could tell you anything then。〃
I sized her up。 If I had let myself get cooped up in a booth at Rusterman's with a chronic nymph and that was all there was to it； at least I could preserve my dignity by not letting it cost me anything but twenty bucks or so of Wolfe's money。 But I doubted if that was it。 My analysis indicated that she simply had her own definite opinion of what constituted human panionship； and I wasn't prepared to argue with her。
I slid out clear of the table； got upright； drew the curtain across the entrance to the booth； got on my knees on the seat beside her； and enfolded her good。 Her lips； like her hands； were warm and firm； and neither too moist nor too dry。 She not only had her theory about panionship； she was willing to submit it to a thorough test； which is more than some people will do with their theories。 When it was obviously time to go I backed off； went and pulled the curtain open； and got back into my seat。 As I did so the waiter entered with our baked grapefruit。 When he had it arranged and left us she asked：
〃What were you doing in Hester Livsey's room？ What you just did with me？〃
〃There you go again；〃 I protested。 〃You said you had a lot to tell me； not to ask me。 How do you know Moore was murdered？〃
She swallowed some grapefruit。 〃How did I know it would be all right if you held me and kissed me？〃
〃Anybody would know that from looking at me。 Thanks for the passing mark； anyway。 You couldn't tell Moore was murdered just by looking at him； with his head smashed flat。 Even the cops and the city scientists couldn't。〃
Her spoon had stopped in mid…air。 〃That's an awful thing to say。〃
〃Sure。 Also it's fairly awful to say a guy was murdered； especially when he was your friend。 How good a friend？〃
She ate some grapefruit； but； as it seemed to me； not to gain time for deciding what to say； but just because she felt like eating。 After three more sections had been disposed of she spoke。
〃I called him Wally； because I didn't like Waldo； it sounds too intellectual； and anyway I often use nicknames； I just like to。 My husband's name is Harold； but I call him Harry。 Wally and I were very close friends。 We still were when he…got murdered。 Didn't I say I could tell you anything？〃 She spooned for grapefruit。
〃Your husband？〃 I tuned the surprise out。 〃Bendini？〃
〃No； his name is Anthony； Harold Anthony。 I was working at Naylor…Kerr when I was married； nearly three years ago； and I didn't bother to change my name there。 I'm glad I didn't； because he'll let me get a divorce sooner or later。 When he got out of the Army he seemed to think he had left me put away in moth balls。 Wally would never have been silly enough to think that about me。 Neither would you。〃
〃Never；〃 I declared。 〃Does your husband work at Naylor…Kerr？〃
〃No； he's a broker…I mean he works for a broker； on Nassau Street。 He's educated； some college； I can never remember which one。 I haven't been living with him for quite some months； but he isn't reconciled to losing me； and I don't seem to be able to persuade him that we're inpatible； no matter how much I explain that it wasn't true love； it was just an impulse。〃
She put her spoon down。 〃Let me tell you something； Mr。 Truett。 I really and truly loved Wally Moore。 One way I know I did； I have never been jealous of anyone in my life； but I was with him。 I was so jealous of all his other girls I would think of ways they might die。 You wouldn't think I could be like that； would you？ I wouldn't。〃
My reply was nonmittal because the waiter arrived with the steak。 After he had served it； with grilled sweet potatoes and endive and the wine； and left the reserve there on our table over a brazier of charcoal； I picked up my knife and fork but was interrupted by Rosa。
〃This looks wonderful。 I'll bet that curtain's stuck so you couldn't close it again。〃
I went and closed the curtain。 This time she left her seat too； and we had panionship standing。 All the time it lasted the warm inviting smell of the steak came floating up to us； with a tang in it that came from the poured Burgundy； and the bination of everything made it a very pleasant experience。
〃We mustn't let it get cold；〃 I said finally。
She agreed； with good mon sense； and I pulled the curtain open for air。
That wrecked most of the remaining barriers。 By the time the meal was finished I had enough to fill six pages； single…spaced。 She gave me most of it in straight English； but on the two or three points where she merely implied I am supplying my own translation。 Beginning with the day he started to work； Waldo Wilmot Moore had gone through the personnel of the stock department like a dolphin through waves。 There could be no conservative estimate of the total score he had piled up； because there had been nothing conservative about it。 I got the impression that he had tallied up into the dozens； but Rosa was probably exaggerating through loyalty to his memory； and only four names stood out…and two of those were men。
GWYNNE FERRIS； according to Rosa； was a Perfect bitch。 Being a born beckoner and promiser； she had tried her routine on Moore； had been caught off balance； and had had her beckoning and promising career abruptly terminated； or at least temporarily interrupted。 She was about Rosa's age； in her early twenties； and was still a stenographer in the reserve pool after nearly two years。
BENJAMIN FRENKEL； a serious and intense young man who was assistant head of a section； and who was generally regarded as the third…best letter dictator in the whole department； had been beckoned and promised by Gwynne Ferris until he didn't know which way was south。 He had hated Waldo Moore with all the seriousness and intensity he had； or even a little extra。
HESTER LIVSEY was a phony； a heel； and a halfwit。 Moore had kidded her along and had never had the faintest intention of marrying her。 He would never have married anyone； but she was too dumb to know it。 For a while she had actually believed that Moore was her private property； and when she had learned that he was still enjoying the panionship of Rosa； not to mention any others； she had gone pletely crazy and had not recovered to date。
SUMNER HOFF was something special； being a civil engineer and a technical adviser to the whole stock department。 He had been the hero…or the villain； depending On where you stood…of the most dramatic episode of the whole Moore story。 On a day in October； just before quitting time； at the edge of the arena outside Dickerson's office； he had plugged Moore in the jaw and knocked him into the lap of a girl at a near…by desk； ruining a letter she was typing。 He had implied； just before he swung； that what was biting him was a checker's report Moore had made on a letter he had dictated； but according to Rosa that was only a cover and what was really biting him was Moore's conquest of Hester Livsey。 Sumner Hoff had been after Hester Livsey； strictly honorable； for over a year。
I was beginning to understand why Pine had said that Moore was the type that stirs up gossip。
For nearly two hours； sitting there working on the steak and its accessories； and another bottle of wine； and then pastry and coffee and brandy； Rosa told me things。 When she got through I had a bushel of details； but fundamentally I didn't know anything I hadn't known before。 It was no news that Moore had made various people sore in his capacity as a correspondence checker； or that his own section head hadn't liked him or wanted him； or even that he was death on dames。 All Rosa had done was fill in。； and when we got right down to it； how did she know Moore had been murdered and who did it； all she had was loose feathers。 She knew he had been murdered because she knew who wanted him dead。 Okay； who？ On that she reminded me of the old gag about which one would he save； his wife or his son？ She would have rooted for Hester Livsey if it hadn't been for Gwynne Ferris； and she would have rooted for Ferris if it hadn't been for Livsey。 As for the actual circumstances of Moore's death； she had plenty of gossip； unshakable opinions； and a fine healthy set of suspicions and prejudices； but no facts I didn't already know。
I wasn't greatly disappointed； since in the detective business you always draw ten times as many blanks as you do paying numbers； but with all her pouring it out I had an uneasy feeling that she might have something I wasn't getting。 It was plausible that she had waylaid me just to give me moral support and a friendly shove in what she regarded as the right direction； she was quite capable of that； but by the time we finished with the brandy I had decided that she was also capable of hiding an ace。 And I seemed to be stymied。 So I told her：
〃It's only a little after eight。 We could go somewhere and dance； or take in a show； or I could get my car and we could ride around； but that can wait。 I think for tonight we ought to concentrate on Wally Moore； Did you ever hear of Nero Wolfe？〃
〃Nero Wolfe the detective？ Certainly。〃
〃Good。 I know him quite well。 As I said。 I'm not a cop； but I'm a sort of a detective myself； and I often consult Nero Wolfe。 His office is in his house on Thirty…fifth Street。 What do you say we go down there and talk it over with him？ He knows how to fit things together。〃
She had got pletely relaxed； but now she darted a glance at me。
〃What is it； jus