“I didn’t fare much better than you,” I told her, proceeding to describe my trip to the YMCA and my meeting with Alf.
“Well, at least you learned something about him,” Lily said. “He’s very withdrawn, or at least private, he plays the horses, and he has been seen carrying around a wad of money. The part about gambling on the horses isn’t a total surprise, given that Gazette clipping you told me about.”
“You have given me an idea.”
“Care to share it?”
“Not just yet, but I assure you I will if things develop the way I hope they do.”
“Ah, ever the man of mystery.”
“No, not mystery, just bafflement. I may end up jousting with windmills, but anything is better than just sitting on my hands.”
When Wolfe came down from the roof and rang for beer, I turned to face him. “I have a problem,” I said.
“Go on.”
I proceeded to describe my day’s activities and concluded by saying, “I want to hire Saul, Fred, and Orrie to canvass all the bookie joints in town. And I will pay them out of my own funds.”
“You will not!” Wolfe barked as he opened the first of two bottles of Remmers that Fritz had brought in. “I salute your desire to learn the whereabouts of Miss Rowan’s friend and that of her brother, with the two occurrences likely connected. Unless you or Miss Rowan voices an objection, I propose we join forces on this gest.”
“If gest means what I think it does, I believe Miss Rowan will find the idea interesting.”
“First, you are free to look up the definition of the word in any of the dictionaries on our shelves. Second, we should not proceed until you discuss my proposal with Miss Rowan.”
Wolfe had thrown me for a loop. I know he is somewhat fond of Lily, an exception to his usual attitude regarding women. But I hadn’t expected him to suggest his taking an active role in the search for Maureen and Everett Carr.
“One, I’ll take your word regarding the definition of gest. Two, I will telephone Lily, and I can guarantee that she will want to pay you.”
“Please call her now.”
I dialed a number I knew well, and Lily answered on the first ring. “Mr. Wolfe would like to speak to you,” I said, nodding to Wolfe, who picked up his instrument while I stayed on the line.
“Miss Rowan, this is Nero Wolfe. Archie has kept me apprised of developments in your search for Maureen Carr and her brother, including your conversations with her consorts. I offer my services in this endeavor, and I may be of some assistance.”
“I am delighted to hear that, Mr. Wolfe, and I will of course reimburse you for your time and effort.”
“Reimbursement is not necessary, Miss Rowan. I have no cases at present, and my financial condition is secure. In fact, additional income at this time would place me in a different tax bracket, and I would be penalized by the Internal Revenue Service for earning more, irrational as that may sound.”
Not only was that irrational, it was incorrect, but I was not about to contradict my boss. He wanted to help Lily, and I was damned if I was going to get in his way.
“All right, Mr. Wolfe,” Lily said. “I am going to accept your very kind offer. How should we proceed?”
“Archie will fill you in on our plans.”
After Wolfe hung up, abrupt as usual, I told Lily the program. “And you really want me to be present?” she said, surprised.
“Definitely. After all, you are the client. We will meet tonight at nine, assuming everyone can be present. I hope you are available at such late notice.”
“I will make myself available,” Lily said.
I made three calls and was fortunate, catching everyone at home. I was even more fortunate to learn they all could make it to the brownstone tonight, although I did not fill them in on the reason for the meeting.
When I told Wolfe, he suggested we invite Lily for dinner. I thought about telling him that he was becoming a softy but stifled the impulse. Things were moving along, so why mess with this small step in a positive direction?
Lily had eaten with us on a number of occasions, so she was comfortable in the dining room as we consumed Fritz’s braised wild turkey, followed by apples baked in white wine, while Wolfe expounded on the railroads’ vital role in the settling of the American West. After dinner, the three of us repaired to the office, Lily in the red leather chair at the end of Wolfe’s desk as befits a client. Wolfe drank beer, while Lily and I had glasses of after-dinner wine.
Saul Panzer arrived first, at eight fifty, and if he was surprised at seeing Lily, he did not let it show. With his 140-pound frame, rumpled suit, flat cap, and semishaved mug that is two-thirds nose, Saul hardly looks like the best freelance operative I have ever known. But that he is.
“Miss Rowan, so good to see you,” he said with the slightest of bows as he slid into one of the trio of yellow chairs lined up facing Wolfe’s desk.
Fritz was manning the front door, and next to be ushered into the office was Fred Durkin, thick in the middle, thin on the top of the head, and second only to Saul in his ability to hold a tail. Fred might on occasion seem a little dense, but do not let that fool you. He is as tough as one of the Giants’ defensive linemen and as brave and loyal as a bulldog. When he saw Lily, Fred blinked his surprise and mumbled a greeting, then sat next to Saul.
Last to arrive was Orrie Cather, suave, handsome, and aware of it. He’s a good operative, but not as good as he thinks, and he always has believed that he would be better at my job than I am. As long as I’m upright and aboveground, he will never have that opportunity.
Like Fred, Orrie was surprised at Lily’s presence, but he recovered his aplomb and threw her a smile that he thinks women find irresistible. She gave him a nod and a slim smile in return.
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight,” Wolfe said. “Would any of you like to join us in a drink?”
Saul and Orrie opted for scotch and Fred asked for a beer, because that’s what he always feels he should have when in Wolfe’s presence. I filled the orders, and once everyone had settled in with their libations, Wolfe began. “I know you all have met Miss Rowan before, but you may be surprised at her presence tonight. I explain by stating that she is my client.” Looks of wonder followed from Fred and Orrie.
“Here is the situation,” Wolfe continued as he laid out the scenario of Maureen Carr and Everett both having vanished. “I believe the disappearance of the siblings is by no means a coincidence. Archie and Miss Rowan have searched Miss Carr’s residence and have found no substantive clues as to her possible whereabouts. And Archie has been unable to locate Everett Carr, although he has learned of Mr. Carr’s predilection for betting on racehorses, particularly using handbooks, or ‘bookies,’ as they are called in the patois of the street and in the press. Archie?” he turned to me.
“Everett Carr was in a bookie joint at Eleventh Avenue and Fifty-Fourth Street that got raided several years ago, although he was not charged,” I said, consulting my notes. “The place probably isn’t operating anymore. At the time, the bookmaker, Charles Spencer, who did get cited, was living at 217 West Eighty-Third. I was able to find almost nothing else about Carr in a search of the Gazette’s files.”
“I’m on the case, as far as this Spencer is concerned,” Saul said.
Orrie Cather jumped in. “Hey, I can go after that one and—”
“Go ahead, Saul,” Wolfe interrupted. “Orrie and Fred, there will be enough assignments for both of you. I have no idea how many bookmakers operate in New York, but I can imagine the numbers run at least into the dozens.”