Wolfe was still in bed, and didn’t stir when I entered. I stood and gazed at him, not tenderly. I was still considering the situation when there was a knock on the door behind me, a good loud one. I turned and opened it, and an oversized specimen was coming in, going to walk right over me. I needed something like that. I stiff-armed him good, and he tottered back and nearly went down.
“I’m a police officer,” he barked.
“Then say so. Even if you are, I’m not a rug. What do you want?”
“Are you Archie Goodwin?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wanted at the district attorney’s office. You and Nero Wolfe. I’m here to take you.”
The correct thing to do would have been to tell him we’d consider it and let him know, and shut the door on him, but I was sorer at Wolfe than I was at him. There had been no good reason for sending me out to phone Saul until the conference had ended. It had been absolutely childish, when he returned from talking with Saul, for him to go back to bed without giving me any idea what was cooking. I had offered to split the blame fifty-fifty, but no, I was the goat and he was the lion. So I moved aside for the law to enter, and turned to see Wolfe’s eyes open, glaring at us.
“That’s Mr. Wolfe,” I told the baboon.
“Get up and dress,” he commanded. “I’m taking you to the district attorney’s office for questioning.”
“Nonsense.” Wolfe’s voice was colder than the air. “I have given Mr. Hyatt and Mr. Groom all the information I possess. If the district attorney wishes to come to see me in an hour or so I may admit him. Tell Mr. Groom he’s an ass. He shouldn’t have arrested me. Now he has no threat to coerce me with, short of charging me with murder or getting my bail canceled, and the one would be harebrained and the other quite difficult. Get out of here! No. Ha! No indeed. Archie, how did this man get in here?”
“Walked. He knocked, and I opened the door.”
“I see. You, who can be, and usually are, a veritable Horatius. I see.” His eyes moved. “You, sir. Were you sent for me only or both of us?”
“Both of you.”
“Good. Take Mr. Goodwin. You could take me only by force, and I’m too heavy to lift. The district attorney can phone me later for an appointment, but I doubt if he’ll get it.”
The baboon hesitated, opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again to tell me to come on. I went. Wolfe probably thought he had landed a kidney punch, but he hadn’t. Since I was being kept off the program, kidding with a DA was as good a way to pass the time as any.
Another way of passing some time that had occurred to me was to offer to buy Sally Colt a lunch, but it was after two o’clock when the DA finally decided I was hopeless. I went to a drugstore and called Wolfe, told him the DA was hopeless, asked if he had any instructions, and was told no. I called Sally Colt and asked if she felt like taking in a movie, and she said she would love to but was busy and couldn’t. She was busy. Fine. I did hope she would find some way of saving me from the electric chair. I started for the fountain counter for a sandwich and milk, remembered that this trip would go on the expense account, went and found the restaurant that Stanley Rogers had recommended, and ordered and consumed six dollars’ worth of food, getting a receipt. The waiter told me where I could find a pool hall, and I walked to it, phoned to tell Wolfe where I was, sat and watched a while, got propositioned by a hustler, took him on at straight pool, and avoided getting cleaned only by refusing to boost the bets to the levels he suggested. He finally decided I was a piker and dropped me. By then it was going on seven o’clock, dinner time coming, but I had no intention of imposing myself on the occupant of room 902, so I mounted a stool to watch a pair of three-cushion sharks. They weren’t Hoppes, but they were good. While one of them was lifting his cue for a masse, the cashier called to me that I was wanted on the phone. I took my time going. Let him wait.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mr. Goodwin?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Sally Colt. I hated to say no to your invitation, I really did, but I had to. I don’t suppose you feel like making it a dinner instead of a movie?”
I took time out for control. Only one person could have told her where I was. But it wasn’t her fault. “Sure,” I told her. “I eat every day. When?”
“Any time now. At the hotel?”
“No, there’s a better place, just two blocks away. Henninger’s. Shall we meet there in fifteen minutes?”
“It’s a deal. Henninger’s?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll be there. I’ll tell Mr. Wolfe where we’ll be in case he needs us.”
“I’ll phone him.”
“No, I’ll tell him, he’s right here.”
As I went for my coat and hat my feelings were too mixed to sort out. Cold rage. It was okay to make allowances for a genius, but this was too much. Curiosity. What the hell was he doing with her? Relief. At least he was up and dressed, unless his attitude toward women had done a complete somersault. Cheerfulness. Under almost any circumstances it’s a pleasure to have a date with a good-looking girl. Expectation. Somewhere along the line she might see fit to tell me what my employer was up to.
She didn’t. It was a very enjoyable meal, and before it was over I had decided that I would have to concede an exception to my verdict on she-dicks, but not a word about current affairs, and of course I wouldn’t ask her. Wolfe had told her to lay off. I can’t document that, but we got quite sociable by the time dessert and coffee came, and when a damsel smiles at me a certain way but steers clear of the subject she knows damn well is on top of my mind, she has been corrupted by someone. We were finishing our coffee and considering whether to move to a place down the street where there was a dance floor when the waiter came and told me I was wanted on the phone. I went.
“Hello.”
“Archie?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Miss Colt with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Come to the room, and bring her.”
“Yeah.”
I returned to the table, told her we were wanted, got the check and paid it, and we left. The sidewalk was icy in spots and she took my arm, which seemed a little sissy for a working detective, but at least she didn’t tug. At the hotel, when we got out at the ninth floor she went to her room, 917, to leave her things, and I waited in the hall for her. I had been told to bring her, and since that had been my only assignment for the day I wanted to carry it out properly. She rejoined me, we proceeded to 902, I opened the door with my key, and we entered.