When she had gone I proceeded immediately to tell Wolfe what I thought of him.
“You couldn't possibly ask for a better chance,” I protested hotly. “She may not be Miss America 1949, but she's anything but an eyesore, and she'll inherit millions, and she's nuts about you. You could quit work and eat and drink all day. Evenings you could explain how well you understand her, which is apparently all she asks for. You're hooked at last, and it was about time.” I extended a paw. “Congratulations!” “Shut up.” He glanced at the clock.
“In a minute. I approve of your lie about expecting a caller. That's the way to handle it, tease her on with the hard to get-” “Go to bed. I am expecting a caller.” I eyed him. “Another one?” “A man. I'll let him in. Put this stuff away and go to bed. At once.” That had happened not more than twice in five years. Once in a while I get sent out of the room, and frequently I am nagged to get off my phone, when something is supposed to be too profound for me, but practically never am I actually chased upstairs to keep me from even catching a glimpse of a visitor.
“Mr Jones?” I asked.
“Put this stuff away.” I gathered up the papers from his desk and returned them to my drawer before telling him, “I don't like it, and you know I don't. One of my functions is keeping you alive.” I started for the safe. “What if I come down in the morning and find you?” “Some morning you may. Not this one. Don't lock the safe.” “There's fifty grand in it.” “I know. Don't lock it.” “Okay, I heard you. The guns are in my second drawer but not loaded.” I told him good night and left him.
CHAPTER Nineteen
In the morning three-tenths of the fifty grand was no longer there. Fifteen thousand bucks. I told myself that before I died I must manage at least a look from a distance at Mr Jones. A guy who could demand that kind of dough for piecework, and collect in advance, was something not to be missed.
When I arose at seven I had had only five hours' sleep. I had not imitated Gwenn and taken to eavesdropping, but I certainly didn't intend to snooze peacefully while Wolfe was down in the office with a character so mysterious I couldn't be allowed to see him or hear him. Therefore, not undressing, I got the gun I keep on my bed table and went to the hall and sat at the top of the stairs. From there, two flights up, I heard his arrival, and voices in the hall-Wolfe's and one other-and the office door closing, and then, for nearly three hours, a faint mumble that I had to strain my ears to catch at all. For the last hour of it I had to resort to measures to keep myself awake. Finally the office door opened and the voices were louder, and in half a minute he had gone and I heard Wolfe's elevator. I beat it to my room. After my head touched the pillow I tossed and turned for nearly three seconds.
In the morning my custom is not to enter the office until after my half an hour in the kitchen with Fritz and food and the morning paper, but that Friday I went there first and opened the safe. Wolfe is not the man to dish out fifteen grand of anybody's money without having a clear idea of what for, so it seemed likely that something might need attention at any moment, and when, a little after eight, Fritz came down from taking Wolfe's breakfast tray up to him, I fully expected to be told that I was wanted on the second floor. Nothing doing.
According to Fritz, my name hadn't been mentioned. At the regular time, three minutes to nine, then at my desk in the office, I heard the sound of the elevator ascending. Apparently his sacred schedule, nine to eleven in the plant rooms, was not to be interrupted. He and Theodore were now handling the situation, no more outside help being needed.
There was one little cheep from him. Shortly after nine the house phone buzzed.
He asked if any of the boys had called and I said no, and he said that when they did I was to call them off. I asked if that included Fred, and he said yes, all of them. I asked if there were fresh instructions, and he said no, just tell them to quit.
That was all for then. I spent two hours with the morning mail and the accumulation in my drawer. At eleven-two he entered, told me good morning as he always did no matter how much we had talked on the phone, got installed behind his desk, and inquired grumpily, “Is there anything you must ask me?” “Nothing I can't hold, no, sir.” “Then I don't want to be interrupted. By anyone.” “Yes, sir. Are you in pain?” “Yes. I know who killed Mr Rony, and how and why.” Tfou do. Does it hurt?” “Yes.” He sighed deep. “It's the very devil. When you know all you need to know about a murderer, what is ordinarily the easiest thing to prove?” “That's a cinch. Motive.” He nodded. “But not here. I doubt if it can be done. You have known me, in the past, to devise a stratagem that entailed a hazard. Haven't you?” “That's understating it. I have known you to take chances that have given me nightmares.” “They were nothing to this. I have devised a stratagem and spent fifteen thousand dollars on it. But if I can think of a better way I'm not going to risk it.” He sighed again, leaned back, closed his eyes, and muttered, “I don't want to be disturbed.” That was the last of him for more than nine hours. I don't think he uttered more than eighty words between eleven-nine in the morning and eight-twenty in the evening. While he was in the office he sat with his eyes closed, his lips pushing out and in from time to time, and his chest expanding every now and then, I would say five inches, with a deep sigh. At the table, during lunch and dinner, there was nothing wrong with his appetite, but he had nothing to offer in the way of conversation. At four o'clock he went up to the plant rooms for his customary two hours, but when I had occasion to ascend to check on a few items with Theodore, Wolfe was planted in his chair in the potting room, and Theodore spoke to me only in a whisper. I have never been able to get it into Theodore's head that when Wolfe is concentrating on a business problem he wouldn't hear us yelling right across his nose, so long as we don't try to drag him into it.
Of the eighty words he used during those nine hours, only nine of them-one to an hour-had to do with the stratagem he was working on. Shortly before dinner he muttered at me, “What time is Mr Cohen free in the evening?” I told him a little before midnight.
When in the office after dinner, he once more settled back and shut his eyes, I thought, my God, this is going to be Nero Wolfe's last case. He's going to spend the rest of his life at it. I had myself done a good day's work and saw no sense in sitting all evening listening to him breathe. Considering alternatives, and deciding for Phil's and a few games of pool, I was just opening my mouth to announce my intention when Wolfe opened his.
“Archie. Get Mr Cohen down here as soon as possible. Ask him to bring a Gazette letterhead and envelope.” “Yes, sir. Is the ironing done?” “I don't know. We'll see. Get him.” At last, I thought, we're off. I dialled the number, and after some waiting because that was a busy hour for a morning paper, got him.
His voice came. “Archie? Buy me a drink?” “No,” I said firmly. “Tonight you stay sober. What time can you get here?” “Where is here?” “Nero Wolfe's office. He thinks he wants to tell you something.” “Too late.” Lon was crisp. “If it will rate the Late City, tell me now.” “It's not that kind. It hasn't come to a boil. But it's good enough so that instead of sending an errand boy, meaning me, he wants to see you himself, so when can you get here?” “I can send a man.” “No. You.” “Is it worth it?” “Yes. Possibly.” “In about three hours. Not less, maybe more.” “Okay. Don't stop for a drink, I'll have one ready, and a sandwich. Oh yes, bring along a Gazette letterhead and envelope. We've run out of stationery.” “What is it, a gag?” “No, sir. Far from. It may even get you a rise.” I hung up and turned to Wolfe. “May I make a suggestion? If you want him tender and it's worth a steak, I'll tell Fritz to take one from the freezer and start it thawing.” He said to do so and I went to the kitchen and had a conference with Fritz.