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251 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published February 11, 1949
A man whose life is threatened anonymously is either in no danger at all, or his danger is so acute and so ubiquitous that his position is hopeless.
By that Monday afternoon [Wolfe] had got so desperate that he had started taking long walks, as, for instance, back and forth between his chair and the bookshelves, and sometimes even through the door into the front room
"Your name's Goodwin," he told me impolitely, without overexerting any muscles.
"Thanks," I thanked him. "How much do I weigh?"
I could see nothing ahead but one fine mess, and I still believe, corn or no corn, that if he had so much as poked a finger at Wolfe's central bulge I would have dropped him.
The most famous fact about his physical make-up, that he had no nose, wasn't true. His nose was almost normal in size and shape when you looked at it, but the point was that three other features -- the mouth, ears, and eyes -- grabbed the scene and the nose might as well not have been there.
"Well, enjoy it. This is just a friendly call. I wanted to let you know you were right as usual... I just wanted to tell you that, but I suppose I might as well ask if you have anything to add."
"No -- no, I think not."
"Nothing at all? About the job you took on for Perrit?"
"Nothing."
"Okay, I didn't expect it. Enjoy your lunch.
"I suppose two hundred men and women have sat in that chair, Mr. Poor, and tried to hire me to keep someone from killing them."
I eyed him coldly. "You scold us when we lie, and you scold us when we tell the truth. What does the city pay you for anyhow?"
I told [Hackett] to stay in there until his nerves calmed down and then rejoin us, act detached and superior, and let me do the talking. He said he would, but at that moment I would have traded him for one wet cigarette.
"I still can't believe it," Jane declared. "It was wonderful."
"It was merely a job," Wolfe murmured, as if he knew what modesty was.
... bring Mr. Hackett down here. Use caution and search him with great care. He is an extremely dangerous man and an unsurpassable idiot."
Among the kinds of men I have a prejudice against are the ones named Eugene.
All I really recognized was the gray herringbone suit and the shirt and tie, on account of what the explosion had done to his face
Friday morning, having nothing else to do, I solved the case. I did it with cold logic... I do not intend to put it all down here, the way I worked it out, because first it would take three full pages, and second I was wrong.
... if she was arrested and came to trial you would have to go to court and testify, and you don't like to leave home and you don't like what there is to sit on in a courtroom, so you arrange it otherwise,
Since she was good at detail, I presume she spread his coat over his head so as to leave no telltale matter on her tires.