An hour later we were having a pleasant evening. The three guests and I were in the front room, in a tight game of pinochle, and Wolfe was in his one and only chair in the office, reading a book. The book was The FBI Nobody Knows. He was either gloating or doing research, I didn’t know which.
At ten o’clock I had to excuse myself from the card table briefly; Wolfe had said he wanted to call Hewitt then, when the aristologists would presumably have finished their meal. I went to the office and made the call. Wolfe told Hewitt it had worked perfectly and othanked him. Hewitt said they had found the stand-ins very entertaining; Jarvis had recited passages from Shakespeare and Kirby had mimicked President Johnson and Barry Goldwater and Alfred Lunt. Wolfe said to give them his regards, and I went back to pinochle and Wolfe to his book.
But there was another interruption a little after eleven o’clock. The phone rang, and Wolfe hates to answer it, so I went and got it at my desk.
“Nero Wolfe’s residence, Archie Goodwin speaking.”
“This is Richard Wragg, Goodwin.” The voice was a drawl, smooth and low-pitched. “I want to speak to Wolfe.”
We had known that might happen, and I had instructions.
“I’m afraid you can’t, Wragg. He’s engaged.”
“I want to see him.”
“Good idea. He thought you might. Say here, his office, at eleven in the morning?”
“I want to see him tonight. Now.”
“I’m sorry, Wragg, that isn’t possible. He’s very busy. The earliest would be eleven in the morning.”
“What’s he busy at?”
“He’s reading a book. The FBI Nobody Knows. In half an hour he’ll be in bed.”
“I’ll be there at eleven.”
It sounded as if he cradled it with a bang, but I could have imagined that. I turned to Wolfe. “I called him Wragg because that’s his name. Eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. As expected.”
“And desired. We must confer. When your game is finished.”
I rose. “It won’t take long. I just melded three hundred and forty.”
Chapter 13
I need, and nearly always get, a good eight hours’ sleep, but that night I got six. At 1:10, with Wolfe gone up to bed, and also Fred and Orrie, and Saul on the sofa in the front room, I was about to crawl in on the couch when the doorbell rang. It was Fritz and Jarvis and Kirby, and when I saw Kirby stagger across the threshold I wondered what ditch the Heron was in. I asked him where the car was and he just goggled at me, his lips pressed tight. Thinking he was sticking to the instructions, I told him he could talk now, and Fritz said he could not talk now because he was too drunk, and added that the car was out in front, perfectly all right, but only the good God knew how it had got there. He took them up to their room in the elevator, and I put on shoes and my overcoat over pajamas, and went out and took the Heron to the garage. Not a scratch.
The first number on the program for Friday was scheduled for 8:30. At 7:45 I turned on the will power and rolled out, got my arms full of blankets and sheets and pillow, and made it up to my room. When I came out of the bathroom after showering and shaving, Fred and Orrie were sitting on the edge of the bed, yawning. I remarked that we would be leaving in an hour and twenty minutes and they told me to go soak my head, but I already had. I was expecting to have to manage my own breakfast, but as I was going downstairs Fritz emerged from Wolfe’s room, having delivered the breakfast tray nearly on time. It was 8:28, and I went to the office and started the day by dialing Mrs. Bruner’s number and got her. I told her I was sorry to disturb her so early in the day, but I had an important message, and would she please go out to a booth and ring me at a certain number, which I gave her, at 9:45 or as soon after as possible. She said it would interfere with an appointment and how important was it, and I said extremely, and she said all right.
So we could take our time at breakfast, and it was just as well. Fritz knows that Saul and Fred and Orrie all like eggs au beurre noir, so that was the main item, with toast and bacon, and two rounds for each of us, two eggs to a round, added up to sixteen eggs. The expense account for that operation was going to be a lulu.
With the credentials in my pocket, I left the house with my bodyguard at 9:40, walked to the drugstore at the corner, and stationed myself near the booth. With my understanding of women, I was prepared to wait up to twenty minutes, but at 9:46 it rang, just as a man who had entered was heading for the booth. As I lifted the receiver I decided that he was not a G-man come to take the call; he didn’t look the part.
Mrs. Bruner said she hoped it was really important because she would be late for her appointment.
“You couldn’t possible have any appointment half as important,” I told her. “Forget appointments. You are to be at Mr. Wolfe’s office at a quarter to eleven, not one second later.”
“This morning? I can’t.”
“You can and must. You have told me twice that you didn’t like my tone, but that was nothing compared to the tone you’ll hear unless you say you’ll be there. Mr. Wolfe might even return the hundred grand.”
“But why? What is it?”
“I’m just the messenger boy. You’ll find out when you come. It’s not just important, it’s vital.”
Short silence. “A quarter to eleven?”
“Or earlier.”
More silence. “Very well. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful. You’re the perfect client. If you weren’t rich I’d marry you.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” I hung up.
I didn’t feel vital, with only six hours’ sleep, but I felt important as I walked crosstown to the Continental Bank and Trust Company on Lexington Avenue with the winter wind at my back. Not many men have had such a bodyguard — the best operative between the two oceans plus two damned good ones. If you think we were overdoing it, what if I stumbled and cracked my skull, or what if I ran into a siren who dazzled me and she turned out to be a G-woman? Anyway, they were there in the house and a walk would do them good. At the bank I went downstairs first, to the safe-deposit box, and stashed the credentials. Upstairs, as I cashed a check for five grand to replenish the cash reserve in the safe, I was thinking that it had been just nine days, to the hour, since I had been there to deposit the retainer. I had thought then that there was one chance in a million. Now...
We had to step on it to get back to the old brownstone by a quarter to eleven, and we barely made it. We were in the hall, shedding coats, when I saw Mrs. Bruner’s Rolls pull up out in front. When she reached the stoop I had the door open. Fred and Orrie started off, but I called them back.
“Mrs. Bruner,” I said, “how would you like to meet three men who, working for you, rode sixty miles in a truck, curled up inside wooden boxes with the lids screwed on? And who stood for twenty minutes last evening with guns pointed at two FBI men while Mr. Wolfe told them things?”
“Why — I would like to.”
“I thought so. Mr. Saul Panzer. Mr. Fred Durkin. Mr. Orrie Cather. You will spend some time with Mr. Panzer. If you don’t mind, I’ll put your coat in the front room. Richard Wragg, the top G-man in New York, is coming, and shouldn’t see it.”
Her eyes were wide but her mouth was closed. I decided to marry her in spite of her pile. As I took her coat Fred and Orrie headed for the stairs, to hang around outside the South Room and not let Jarvis and Kirby come down and interrupt the conversation.
At the kitchen end of the hall there is an alcove on the left, and around the corner in the alcove there is a hole in the wall at eye level. On the alcove side of the hole there is a sliding panel, and on the office side the hole is covered by a trick picture of a waterfall. If you stand in the alcove and open the panel you have a view of most of the office through the waterfall, and of course you can hear.