There was plenty doing Saturday evening and Sunday. I saw Evelyn Hibbard and had three hours with her, and got Saul and Fred and the other boys lined up, and had a lot of fun on the telephone, and finally got hold of Higgam the bank guy late Sunday evening after he returned from a Long Island week-end. The phone calls were from members of the league who had got the telegrams. There were five or six that phoned, various kinds; some scared, some sore, and one that was apparently just curious. I had made several copies of the list, and as the phone calls came I checked them off on one and made notes. The original, Hibbard’s, had a date at the top, February 16, 1931, and was typewritten. Some of the addresses had been changed later with a pen, so evidently it had been kept up-to-date. Four of the names had no addresses at all, and of course I didn’t know which ones were dead. The list was like this, leaving out the addresses and putting in the business or profession as we got it Monday from the bank:
Andrew Hibbard, psychologist Ferdinand Bowen, stockbroker Loring A. Burton, doctor Eugene Dreyer, art dealer Alexander Drummond, florist George R. Pratt, politician Nicholas Cabot, lawyer Augustus Farrell, architect Wm. R. Harrison, judge Fillmore Collard, textile-mill owner Edwin Robert Byron, magazine editor L. M. Irving, social worker Lewis Palmer, Federal Housing Administration Julius Adler, lawyer Theodore Gaines, banker Pitney Scott, taxi-driver Michael Ayers, newspaperman Arthur Kommers, sales manager Wallace McKenna, congressman from Illinois Sidney Lang, real estate Roland Erskine, actor Leopold Elkus, surgeon F. L. Ingalls, travel bureau Archibald Mollison, professor Richard M. Tuttle, boys’ school T. R. Donovan Phillip Leonard Allan W. Gardner Hans Weber
For the last four there were no addresses, and I couldn’t find them in the New York or suburban phone books, so I couldn’t ask the bank for a report. Offhand, I thought, reading the names and considering that they were all Harvard men, which meant starting better than scratch on the average, offhand it looked pretty juicy; but the bank reports would settle that. It was fun stalling them on the phone.
But the real fun Sunday came in the middle of the afternoon. Someone had leaked on Hibbard’s disappearance and the Sunday papers had it, though they didn’t give it a heavy play. When the doorbell rang around three o’clock and I answered it because I happened to be handy and Fritz was busy out back, and I saw two huskies standing there shoulder to shoulder, I surmised at first glance it was a couple of bureau dicks and someone had got curious about me up at Hibbard’s the night before. Then I recognized one of them and threw the door wide with a grin.
“Hello, hello. You late from church?”
The one on the right spoke, the one with a scar on his cheek I had recognized. “Nero Wolfe in?”
I nodded. “You want to see him? Leap the doorsill, gentlemen.”
While I was closing the door and putting the chain on they were taking off their hats and coats and hanging them on the rack. Then they were running their hands over their hair and pulling their vests down and clearing their throats. They were as nervous as greenhorns on their first tail. I was impressed. I was so used to Wolfe myself and so familiar with his prowess that I was apt to forget the dents some of his strokes had made on some tough professional skulls. I asked them to wait in the hall and went to the office and told Wolfe that Del Bascom of the Bascom Detective Agency was there with one of his men and wanted to see him.
“Did you ask them what they wanted?”
“No.”
Wolfe nodded, and I went out and brought them in. Bascom went across to the desk to shake hands; the other gentleman got his big rumpus onto a chair I shoved up, but nearly missed it on the way down on account of staring at Wolfe. I suspected he wasn’t overwhelmed by prestige as much as he was by avoirdupois, having never seen Wolfe before.
Bascom was saying, “It’s been nearly two years since I’ve seen you, Mr. Wolfe. Remember? The hay fever case. That’s what I called it. Remember the clerk that didn’t see the guy lifting the emeralds because he was sneezing?”
“I do indeed, Mr. Bascom. That young man had invention, to employ so common an affliction for so unusual a purpose.”
“Yeah. Lots of ’em are smart, but very few of them is quite smart enough. That was quite a case. I’d have been left scratching my ear for a bite if it hadn’t been for you. I’ll never forget that. Is business pretty good with you, Mr. Wolfe?”
“No. Abominable.”
“I suppose so. We’ve got to expect it. Some of the agencies are doing pretty well on industrial work, but I never got into that. I used to be a workingman myself. Hell, I still am.” Bascom crossed his legs and cleared his throat. “You taken on anything new lately?”
“No.”
“You haven’t?”
“No.”
I nearly jumped at the squeak, it was so unexpected. It came from the other dick, his chair between Bascom and me. He squeaked all of a sudden:
“I heard different.”
“Well, who opened your valve?” Bascom glared at him, disgusted. “Did I request you to clamp your trap when we came in here?” He turned to Wolfe. “Do you know what’s eating him? You’ll enjoy this, Mr. Wolfe. He’s heard a lot of talk about the great Nero Wolfe, and he wanted to show you haven’t got him buffaloed.” He shifted and turned on the glare again. “You sap.”
Wolfe nodded. “Yes, I enjoy that. I like bravado. You were saying, Mr. Bascom?”
“Yeah. I might as well come to the point. It’s like this. I’m on a case. I’ve got five men on it. I’m pulling down close to a thousand dollars a week, four weeks now. When I wind it up I’ll get a fee that will keep me off of relief all winter. I’m getting it sewed up. About all I need now is some wrapping paper and a piece of string.”
“That’s fine.”
“All of that. And what I’m here for is to ask you to lay off.”
Wolfe’s brows went up a shade. “To ask me?”
“To lay off.” Bascom slid forward in his chair and got earnest. “Look here, Mr. Wolfe. It’s the Chapin case. I’ve been on it for four weeks. Pratt and Cabot and Dr. Burton are paying me — that’s no secret, or if it was, it wouldn’t be for you after Monday. Pratt’s a sort of a friend of mine, I’ve done him a good turn or two. He phoned me last night and said if I wanted to hang my own price tag on Paul Chapin I’d better get a move on because Nero Wolfe was about to begin. That was how I found out about the telegrams you sent. I dusted around and saw Burton and Cabot and one or two others. Burton had never heard of you before and asked me to get a report on you, but he phoned me this morning and told me not to bother. I suppose he had inquired and got an earful.”
Wolfe murmured, “I am gratified at the interest they displayed.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Bascom laid a fist on the desk for emphasis and got more earnest still. “Mr. Wolfe. I want to speak to you as one professional man to another. You would be the first to agree that ours is a dignified profession.”
“Not explicitly. To assert dignity is to lose it.”
“Huh? Maybe. Anyway, it’s a profession, like the law. As you know, it is improper for a lawyer to solicit a client away from another lawyer. He would be disbarred. No lawyer with any decency would ever try it. And don’t you think our profession is as dignified as the law? That’s the only question. See?”
Bascom waited for an answer, his eyes on Wolfe’s face, and probably supposed that the slow unfolding on Wolfe’s cheeks was merely a natural phenomenon, like the ground swell on an ocean. Wolfe finally said, “Mr. Bascom. If you would abandon the subtleties of innuendo? If you have a request to make, state it plainly.”
“Hell, didn’t I? I asked you to lay off.”
“You mean, keep out of what you call the Chapin case? I am sorry to have to refuse your request.”
“You won’t?”
“Certainly not.”
“And you think it is absolutely okay to solicit another man’s clients away from him?”
“I have no idea. I shall not enter into a defense of my conduct with you; what if it turned out to be indefensible? I merely say, I refuse your request.”
“Yeah. I thought you would.” Bascom took his fist off the desk and relaxed a little. “My brother claimed you regarded yourself as a gentleman and you’d fall for it. I said you might be a gentleman but you wasn’t a sap.”
“Neither, I fear.”
“Well and good. Now that that’s out of the way, maybe we can talk business. If you’re going to take on the Chapin case, that lets us out.”
“Probably. Not necessarily.”
“Oh yes, it does. You’ll soak them until they’ll have to begin buying the cheaper cuts. I know when I’m done, I can take it. I couldn’t hang onto it much longer anyhow. God help you. I’d love to drop in here once a week and ask you how’s tricks. I’m telling you, this cripple Chapin is the deepest and slickest that’s ever run around loose. I said I had it about sewed up. Listen. There’s not the faintest chance. Not the faintest. I had really given that up, and had three men tailing him to catch him on the next one — and by God there goes Hibbard and we can’t even find what’s left of him, and do you know what? My three men don’t know where Chapin was Tuesday night! Can you beat it? It sounds dumb, but they’re not dumb, they’re damn good men. So as I say, I’d love to drop in here—”
Wolfe put in, “You spoke of talking business.”
“So I did. I’m ready to offer you a bargain. Of course you’ve got your own methods, we all have, but in these four weeks we’ve dug up a lot of dope, and it’s cost us a lot of money to get it. It’s confidential naturally, but if your clients are the same as mine that don’t matter. It would save you a lot of time and expense and circling around. You can have all the dope and I’ll confer with you on it any time, as often as you want.” Bascom hesitated a moment, wet his lips, and concluded, “For one thousand dollars.”
Wolfe shook his head gently. “But, Mr. Bascom. All of your reports will be available to me.”
“Sure, but you know what reports are. You know, they’re all right, but oh hell. You would really get some dope if I let you question any of my men you wanted to. I’d throw that in.”
“I question its value.”
“Oh, be reasonable.”
“I often try. I will pay one hundred dollars for what you offer. Please! I will not haggle. And do not think me discourteous if I say that I am busy and need all the time the clock affords me. I thank you for your visit, but I am busy.” Wolfe’s fingers moved to indicate the books before him on the desk, one of them with a marker in it. “There are the five novels written by Paul Chapin; I managed to procure the four earlier ones yesterday evening. I am reading them. I agree with you that this is a difficult case. It is possible, though extremely unlikely, that I shall have it solved by midnight.”
I swallowed a grin. Wolfe liked bravado all right; for his reputation it was one of his best tricks.
Bascom stared at him. After a moment he pushed his chair back and got up, and the dick next to me lifted himself with a grunt. Bascom said, “Don’t let me keep you. I believe I mentioned we all have our own methods, and all I’ve got to say is thank God for that.”
“Yes. Do you wish the hundred dollars?”
Bascom, turning, nodded. “I’ll take it. It looks to me like you’re throwing the money away, since you’ve already bought the novels, but hell I’ll take it.”
I went across to open the door, and they followed.