Spade nodded with eyebrows lifted to indicate attentiveness.
“The ornament is a statuette,” Cairo went on, selecting and mouthing his words carefully, “the black figure of a bird.”
Spade nodded again, with courteous interest.
“I am prepared to pay, on behalf of the figure’s rightful owner, the sum of five thousand dollars for its recovery.” Cairo raised one hand from the desk-corner and touched a spot in the air with the broad-nailed tip of an ugly forefinger. “I am prepared to promise that—what is the phrase?—no questions will be asked.” He put his hand on the desk again beside the other and smiled blandly over them at the private detective.
“Five thousand is a lot of money,” Spade commented, looking thoughtfully at Cairo. “It—”
Fingers drummed lightly on the door.
When Spade had called, “Come in,” the door opened far enough to admit Effie Perine’s head and shoulders. She had put on a small dark felt hat and a dark coat with a grey fur collar.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“No. Good night. Lock the door when you go, will you?”
Spade turned in his chair to face Cairo again, saying: “It’s an interesting figure.”
The sound of the corridor door’s closing behind Effie Perine came to them.
Cairo smiled and took a short compact flat black pistol out of an inner pocket. “You will please,” he said, “clasp your hands together at the back of your neck.”