On the way uptown in the roadster I reflected that there was one obvious lever to use on Helen Frost to pry her in the direction I wanted her; and I’m a great one for the obvious, because it saves a lot of fiddling around. I decided to use it.
The only parking space I could find was a block away, and I walked from there to the McNair entrance. The uniformed doorman stood grinning at a woman across the street who was trying to feed sugar to a mounted cop’s horse. I went up to him:
“Remember me? I was here this morning.”
Being accosted by a gentleman, he started to straighten up to be genteel, then recollected that I was connected with the police, so he relaxed.
“Sure I remember. You’re the one that passed out the candy.”
“Right. Attention, please. I want to speak to Miss Helen Frost privately, but I don’t want to make any more fuss in there. Has she gone to lunch yet?”
“No. She doesn’t go until one’ o’clock.”
“Is she inside?”
“Sure.” He glanced at his watch. “She won’t go for nearly half an hour.”
“Okay.” I nodded thanks and moseyed off. I had a notion to hunt up some oats for a gobble, but decided it would be better to stick around. I lit a cigarette and strolled to the corner of Fifth Avenue, and across the street, and back toward Madison a ways. Apparently the public was still interested in the place where the beautiful model was poisoned, for I noticed people slowing up and looking at the McNair entrance as they passed by, and now and then some stopped. The mounted cop was hanging around. I went on sauntering in the neighborhood, not getting far away.
At five minutes after one she came out, alone, and headed east. I tripped along, and crossed the street, and got behind her. A little before she got to Madison I snapped out:
“Miss Frost!”
She whirled on a dime. I took off my hat.
“Remember me? My name’s Archie Goodwin. I’d like to have a few words—”
“This is outrageous!” She turned and started off.
She was quite a sketch. As independent as a hog on ice. I took a hop, skip and jump, and planted the frame square in front of her. “Listen. You’re more childish even than your cousin Lew. I merely need, in performance of my duty, to ask you a couple of questions. You’re on your way to get something to eat. I’m hungry and have to eat myself sooner or later. I can’t invite you to lunch, because I wouldn’t be allowed to put it on my expense account, but I can sit at a table with you for four minutes and then go elsewhere to eat if that is your desire. I am a self-made man, and am a roughneck but not rowdy. I graduated from high school at the age of seventeen and only a few months ago I gave two dollars to the Red Cross.”
On account of my firm aggressive talk people were looking at us, and she knew it. She said, “I eat at Moreland’s, around the corner on Madison. You can ask your questions there.”
One trick in. Moreland’s was one of those dumps where they slice roast beef as thin as paper and specialize in vegetable plates. I let Helen Frost find a table, and trailed along and slid into a chair opposite her after she had sat down.
She looked at me and said, “Well?”
I said, “The waitress will hover. Order your lunch.”
“I can order later. What do you want?”
A sketch all right. But I stayed pleasant. “I want to take you to 918 West 35th Street for a conversation with Nero Wolfe.”
She stared at me. “That’s ridiculous. What for?”
I said mildly, “We have to be there at two o’clock, so we haven’t much time. Really, Miss Frost, it would be much more human if you’d get something to eat and let me do the same, while I explain. I’m not something revolting, like a radio crooner or an agent for the Liberty League.”
“I... I’m not hungry. I can see you’re funny. A month ago I would have thought you were a scream.”
I nodded. “I’m a knockout.” I beckoned to a waitress and consulted the card. “What will you have, Miss Frost?”
She ordered some kind of goo, and hot tea, and I favored the pork and beans, with a glass of milk.
With the waitress gone, I said, “There are lots of ways I could do this. I could scare you. Don’t think I couldn’t. Or I could try to persuade you that since your cousin is our client, and since Nero Wolfe is as square with a client as you would be with your twin if you had one, it’s to your own interest to go and see him. But there’s a better reason for your going than either of those. Ordinary decency. Whether Wolfe was right or wrong about what you said yesterday at McNair’s doesn’t matter. The point is that we’ve kept it to ourselves. You saw this morning what terms we’re on with the police; they had me handling that test for them. But have they been ragging you on what you said yesterday? They have not. On the other hand, are you going to have to discuss it with someone — sooner or later? You’re darned tooting you are, there’s no way out of it. Who do you want to discuss it with? If you take my advice, Nero Wolfe, and the sooner the better. Don’t forget that Miss Mitchell heard you say it too, and although she may be a good friend of yours—”
“Please don’t talk any more.” She was looking at her fork, which she was sliding back and forth on the tablecloth, and I saw how tight her fingers gripped it. I sat back and looked somewhere else.
The waitress came and began depositing food in front of us. Helen Frost waited until she was through, and gone, and then said more to herself than to me, “I can’t eat.”
“You ought to.” I didn’t pick up my tools. “You always ought to eat. Try it, anyhow. I’ve already eaten, I was only keeping you company.” I fished for a dime and a nickel and laid them on the table. “My car is parked on 52nd, halfway to Park Avenue, on the downtown side. I’ll expect you there at a quarter to two.”
She didn’t say anything. I beat it and found the waitress and got my check from her, paid at the desk, and went out. Across the street and down a little I found a drug store with a lunch counter, entered, and consumed two ham sandwiches and a couple of glasses of milk. I wondered what they would do with the beans, whether they would put them back in the pot, and thought it would be a crime to waste them. I didn’t wonder much about Helen Frost, because it looked to me like a pipe, all sealed up. There wasn’t anything else for her to do.
There wasn’t. She came up to me at ten minutes to two, as I stood on the sidewalk alongside the roadster. I opened the door and she got in, and I climbed in and stepped on the starter.
As we rolled off I asked her, “Did you eat anything?”
She nodded. “A little. I telephoned Mrs. Lamont and told her where I’m going and said I’d be back at three o’clock.”
“Uh-huh. You may make it.”
I drove cocky because I felt cocky. I had her on the way and the sandwiches hadn’t been greasy and it wasn’t two o’clock yet; and even down in the mouth and with rings under her eyes, she was the kind of riding companion that makes it reasonable to put the top down so the public can see what you’ve got with you. Being a lover of beauty, I permitted myself occasional glances at her profile, and observed that her chin was even better from that angle than from the front. Of course there was an off chance that she was a murderess, but you can’t have everything.
We made it at one minute past two. When I ushered her into the office there was no one there, and I left her there in a chair, fearing the worst. But it was okay. Wolfe was in the dining-room with his coffee cup emptied, doing his post-prandial beaming at space. I stood on the threshold and said:
“I trust the fritters were terrible. Miss Frost regrets being one minute late for her appointment. We got to chatting over a delicious lunch, and the time just flew.”
“She’s here? The devil.” The beam changed to a frown as he made preparations to rise. “Don’t suppose for a moment that I am beguiled. I don’t really like this.”
I preceded him to open the office door. He moved across to his desk more deliberately even than usual, circled around Miss Frost in her chair, and before he lowered himself, inclined his head toward her without saying anything. She leveled her brown eyes at him, and I could see that by gum she was holding the fort and she was going to go on holding it. I got at ease in my chair with my notebook, not trying to camouflage it.
Wolfe asked her politely, “You wished to see me, Miss Frost?”
Her eyes bulged a little. She said indignantly, “I? You sent that man to bring me here.”
“Ah, so I did.” Wolfe sighed. “Now that you are here, have you anything in particular to say to me?”
She opened her mouth and shut it again, and then said simply, “No.”
Wolfe heaved another sigh. He leaned back in his chair and made a movement to clasp his hands on his front middle, then remembered that it was too soon after lunch and let them drop on the arms of his chair. With half-shut eyes he sat comfortable, motionless.
At length he murmured at her, “How old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-one in May.”
“Indeed. What day in May?”
“The seventh.”
“I understand that you call Mr. McNair ‘Uncle Boyd.’ Your cousin told me that. Is he your uncle?”
“Why, no. Of course not. I just call him that.”
“Have you known him a long while?”
“All my life. He is an old friend of my mother’s.”
“You would know his preferences then. In candy, for instance. What kind does he prefer?”
She lost color, but she was pretty good with her eyes and voice. She didn’t bat a lash. “I... I don’t know. Really. I couldn’t say...”
“Come, Miss Frost.” Wolfe kept his tone easy. “I am not asking you to divulge some esoteric secret guarded by you alone. On this sort of detail many people may be consulted — any of Mr. McNair’s intimates, many of his acquaintances, the servants at his home, the shops where he buys candy if he does buy it. If, for example, he happens to prefer Jordan almonds, those persons could tell me. I happen at the moment to be consulting you. Is there any reason why you should try to conceal this point?”
“Of course not.” She hadn’t got her color back. “I don’t need to conceal anything.” She swallowed. “Mr. McNair does like Jordan almonds, that’s perfectly true.” Suddenly the color did appear, a spot on her cheek that showed how quick her blood was. “But I didn’t come here to talk about the kinds of candy that people like. I came here to tell you that you were entirely wrong about what I said yesterday.”
“Then you do have something in particular to say to me.”
“Certainly I have.” She was warming up. “That was just a trick and you know it. I didn’t want my mother and my uncle to come down here, but my cousin Lew lost his head as usual, he’s always getting scared about me anyhow, as if I didn’t have brains enough to take care of myself. You merely tricked me into saying something — I don’t know what — that gave you a chance to pretend—”
“But, Miss Frost.” Wolfe had a palm up at her. “Your cousin Lew is perfectly correct. I mean, about your brains. — No, permit me! Let me save time. I won’t repeat verbatim what was said yesterday; you know as well as I do. I shall merely assert that the words you said, and the way you said them, make it apodictical that you knew the contents of that particular box of candy before Miss Mitchell removed the lid.”
“That isn’t true! I didn’t say—”
“Oh, but you did.” Wolfe’s tone sharpened. “Understand me. Confound it, do you think I’ll squabble with a chit like you? Or do you expect your loveliness to paralyze my intelligence? — Archie. Take this on the typewriter, please. One carbon. Letter-size, headed at the top, Alternative Statements for Helen Frost.”
I swiveled around and swung the machine up and got the paper in. “Shoot.”
Wolfe dictated:
“1. I admit that I knew the contents of the box of candy, and am ready to explain to Nero Wolfe how I knew, truthfully and in detail. “2. I admit that I knew the contents. I refuse for the present to explain, but am ready to submit to questioning by Nero Wolfe on any other matters, reserving the right to withhold replies at my discretion. “3. I admit that I knew the contents, but refuse to continue the conversation. “4. I deny that I knew the contents.”
Wolfe sat up. “Thank you, Archie. No, I’ll take the carbon; the original to Miss Frost.” He turned to her. “Read them over, please. — You observe the distinctions? Here’s a pen; I would like you to initial one of them. One moment. First I should tell you, I am willing to accept either number one or number two. I will not accept either of the others. If you choose number three or number four, I shall have to resign the commission I have undertaken for your cousin, and take certain steps at once.”
She wasn’t a goddess any more; she was too flustered for a goddess. But it took her only a few seconds to collect enough sense to see that she was only gumming the works by fiddling with the paper. She looked level at Wolfe: “I... I don’t have to initial anything. Why should I initial anything?” The spots of color appeared again. “It’s all a trick and you know it! Anybody that’s clever enough can ask people questions and trick them around to some kind of an answer that sounds like—”
“Miss Frost! Please. Do you mean to stick to your absurd denial?”
“Certainly I stick to it, and there’s nothing absurd about it. I can warn you, too, when my cousin Lew—”
Wolfe’s head pivoted and he snapped, “Archie. Get Mr. Cramer.”
I pulled my phone across and dialed the number. They switched me to the extension and I got the clerk and asked for Inspector Cramer. For the sake of Wolfe’s cake that had to have a hot griddle right then, I was hoping he wouldn’t be out, and he wasn’t. His voice boomed at me in the receiver:
“Hello! Hello, Goodwin! You got something?”
“Inspector Cramer? Hold the wire. Mr. Wolfe wants to speak to you.”
I gave Wolfe a nod and he reached for his instrument. But the chit was on her feet, looking mad enough to eat nettle salad. Before lifting his receiver Wolfe said to her:
“As a courtesy, you may have a choice. Do you wish Mr. Goodwin to take you to police headquarters, or shall Mr. Cramer send for you?”
Her voice at him was a croak: “Don’t... don’t...” She grabbed up the pen and wrote her name under statement number two on the paper. She was so mad her hand trembled. Wolfe spoke into the phone:
“Mr. Cramer? How do you do. I was wondering if you have arrived at any conclusions from this morning... Indeed... I wouldn’t say that... No, I haven’t, but I’ve started a line of inquiry which may develop into something later... No, nothing for you now; as you know, I fancy my own discretion in these matters... You must leave that to me, sir...”
When he hung up, Helen Frost was sitting down again, looking at him with her chin up and her lips pushed together. Wolfe picked up the paper and glanced at it, handed it across to me, and settled back in his chair. He reached forward to ring for beer, and settled back again.
“So. Miss Frost, you have acknowledged that you possess information regarding an implement of murder which you refuse to disclose. I wish to remind you that I have not engaged to keep that acknowledgment confidential. For the present I shall do so; I am not committing myself beyond that. Do you know the police mind? One of its first and most constant assumptions is that any withheld knowledge regarding a crime is guilty knowledge. It is a preposterous assumption, but they hug it to their bosoms. For instance, if they knew what you have just signed, they would proceed on the theory that you either put the poison in the candy or know who did. I shall not do that. But as a matter of form I shall ask the question: did you poison that candy?”
She was pretty good, at that. She answered in a calm voice that was only pinched a little, “No. I didn’t.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
“Are you engaged to be married?”
She compressed her lips. “That is none of your business.”
Wolfe said patiently, “I shall have to ask you about many things which you will regard as none of my business. Really, Miss Frost, it is foolish of you to irritate me unnecessarily. The question I just asked is completely innocuous; any of your friends could probably answer it; why shouldn’t you? Do you imagine this is a friendly chat we are having? By no means. It is a very one-sided affair. I am forcing you to reply to questions by threatening to turn you over to the police if you don’t. Are you engaged to be married?”
She was cracking a little. Her fists were clenched in her lap, and she looked smaller, as if she had shrunk, and her eyes got so damp that finally a tear formed in the corner of each one and dripped out. Without paying any attention to them, she said to Wolfe, looking at him, “You’re a dirty fat beast. You... you...”
He nodded. “I know. I ask questions of women only when it is unavoidable, because I abominate hysterics. Wipe your eyes.”
She didn’t move. He sighed. “Are you engaged to be married?”
Tears of rage were also in her voice. “I am not.”
“Did you buy that diamond on your finger?”
She glanced at it involuntarily. “No.”
“Who gave it to you?”
“Mr. McNair.”
“And the one set in your vanity case — who gave you that one?”
“Mr. McNair.”
“Astonishing. I wouldn’t have supposed you cared for diamonds.” Wolfe opened a bottle of beer and filled his glass. “You mustn’t mind me, Miss Frost. I mean, my seeming inconsequence. A servant girl named Anna Fiore sat in that chair once and conversed with me for five hours. The Duchess of Rathkyn did so for most of a night. I am apt to poke into almost any corner, and I beg you to bear with me.” He lifted the glass and emptied it in par. “For instance, this diamond business is curious. Do you like them?”
“I don’t... not ordinarily.”
“Is Mr. McNair fond of them? Does he make gifts of them more or less at random?”
“Not that I know of.”
“And although you don’t like them, you wear these out of... respect for Mr. McNair? Affection for an old friend?”
“I wear them because I happen to feel like it.”
“Just so. You see, I know very little about Mr. McNair. Is he married?”
“As I told you, he is an old friend of my mother’s. A lifelong friend. He had a daughter about my age, a month or so older, but she died when she was two years old. His wife had died before, when the baby was born. Mr. McNair is the finest man I have ever known. He is... he is my best friend.”
“And yet he puts diamonds on you. You must forgive my harping on the diamonds; I happen to dislike them. — Oh, yes, I meant to ask, do you know anyone else who is fond of Jordan almonds?”
“Anybody else?”
“Besides Mr. McNair.”
“No, I don’t.”
Wolfe poured more beer and, leaving the foam to settle, leaned back and frowned at his victim. “You know, Miss Frost, it is time something was said to you. In your conceit, you are assuming, for your youth and inexperience, a terrific responsibility. Molly Lauck died nine days ago, probably through bungling of someone’s effort to kill another person. During all that time you have possessed knowledge which, handled with competence and dispatch, might do something much more important than wreak vengeance; it might save a life, and it is even possible that the life would be one worth saving. What do you think; isn’t that responsibility pretty heavy for you? I have too much sense to try coercion. There’s too much egotism and too much mule in you. But you really should consider it.” He picked up his glass and drank.
She sat and watched him. Finally she said, “I have considered it. I’m not an egotist. I... I’ve considered.”
Wolfe lifted his shoulders an inch and dropped them. “Very well. I understand that your father is dead. I gathered that from the statement of your uncle, Mr. Dudley Frost, that he is the trustee of your property.”
She nodded. “My father died when I was only a few months old. So I’ve never had a father.” She frowned. “That is...”
“Yes? That is?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing at all.”
“And what does your property consist of?”
“I inherited it from my father.”
“To be sure. How much is it?”
She lifted her brows. “It is what my father left me.”
“Oh, come, Miss Frost. Sizes of estates in trust are no secrets nowadays. How much are you worth?”
She shrugged. “I understand that it is something over two million dollars.”
“Indeed. Is it intact?”
“Intact? Why shouldn’t it be?”
“I have no idea. But don’t think I am prying into affairs which your family considers too intimate for discussion with outsiders. Your uncle told me yesterday that your mother hasn’t got a cent. His expression. Then your father’s fortune was all left to you?”
She flushed a little. “Yes. It was. I have no brother or sister.”
“And it will be turned over to you — excuse me. If you please, Archie.”
It was the phone. I wheeled to my desk and got it. I recognized the quiet controlled voice before she gave her name, and made my own tones restrained and dignified as she deserved. I don’t like hysterics any better than Wolfe does.
I turned to Helen Frost: “Your mother would like to speak to you.” I got up and held my chair for her, and she moved over to it.
“Yes, mother... Yes... No, I didn’t... I know you said that, but under the circumstances — I can’t very well tell you now... I couldn’t ask Uncle Boyd about it because he wasn’t back from lunch yet, so I just told Mrs. Lamont where I was going... No, mother, that’s ridiculous, don’t you think I’m old enough to know what I’m doing?... I can’t do that, and I can’t explain till I see you, and when I leave here I’ll come straight home but I can’t tell now when that will be... Don’t worry about that, and for heaven’s sake give me credit for having a little sense... No... Good-bye...”
She had color in her face again as she rose and returned to her seat. Wolfe had narrow eyes on her. He murmured sympathetically: “You don’t like people fussing about you, do you, Miss Frost? Even your mother. I know. But you must tolerate it. Remember that physically and financially you are well worth some fuss. Mentally you are — well — in the pupa stage. I hope you don’t mind my discussing you.”
“It would do me no good to mind it.”
“I didn’t say it would. I only said I hoped you didn’t. About your inheritance; I presume it will be turned over to you when you come of age on May seventh.”
“I presume it will.”
“That is only five weeks off. Twenty-nine, thirty-six — five weeks from tomorrow. Two million dollars. Another responsibility for you. Will you continue to work?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why have you been working? Not for income surely.”
“Of course not. I work because I enjoy it. I felt silly not doing anything. And Uncle Boyd — Mr. McNair — it happened that there was work there I could do.”
“How long — confound it. Excuse me.”
It was the telephone again. I swiveled and picked it up and started my usual salutation, “Hello, this is the office—”
“Hello! hello there! I want to speak to Nero Wolfe!”
I made a face at my desk calendar; this was a voice I knew too. I turned on the aggressiveness: “Don’t bark like that. Mr. Wolfe is engaged. This is Goodwin, his confidential assistant. Who—”
“This is Mr. Dudley Frost! I don’t care if he is engaged, I want to speak to him at once! Is my niece there? Let me speak to her! Let me speak to Wolfe first! He’s going to be sorry—”
I roughened up: “Listen, mister, if you don’t turn off that valve a little I’ll hang up on you. I mean it. Mr. Wolfe and Miss Frost are having a conversation, and I refuse to disturb them. If you want to leave a message—”
“I insist on speaking to Wolfe!”
“You C, A, N, apostrophe, T, can’t. Don’t be childish.”
“I’ll show you who’s childish! You tell Wolfe — tell him that I am my niece’s trustee. She is under my protection. I will not have her annoyed. I’ll have Wolfe and you too arrested as nuisances! She is a minor! I’ll have you prosecuted—”
“Listen, Mr. Frost. Will you listen? What you say is okay. Let me suggest that you have Inspector Cramer do the arresting, because he’s been here often and knows the way. Furthermore, I’m going to hang up now, and if you aggravate me by keeping this phone ringing, I’ll hunt you up and straighten your nose for you. I mean that with all my heart.”
I cradled the instrument, picked up my notebook and turned and said curtly, “More fuss.”
Helen Frost said in a strained voice, because she didn’t like to have to ask, “My cousin?”
“No. Your uncle. Your cousin comes next.”
Which was truer and more imminent than I knew. Her mouth opened at me as if for another question, but she decided against it. Wolfe resumed:
“I was about to ask, how long have you been working?”
“Nearly two years.” She leaned forward at him. “I’d like to ask... is this... going on indefinitely? You’re just trying to provoke me...”
Wolfe shook his head. “I’m trying not to provoke you. I’m collecting information, possibly none of it germane, but that’s my affair.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s a quarter past three. At four o’clock I shall ask you to accompany me to my plant rooms on the roof; you’ll find the orchids diverting. I should guess we shall be finished by six. I assure you, I’m going through with this. I intend to invite Mr. McNair to call on me this evening. If he finds that inconvenient, then tomorrow. If he refuses, Mr. Goodwin will go to his place in the morning and see what can be done. By the way, I need to be sure that you will be there tomorrow. You will?”
“Of course. I’m there every — Oh! No. I won’t be there. The place will be closed.”
“Closed? A Thursday? April second?”
She nodded. “Yes. April second. That’s why. That’s the date Mr. McNair’s wife died.”
“Indeed. And his daughter born?”
She nodded again. “He... he always closes up.”
“And visits the cemetery?”
“Oh, no. His wife died in Europe, in Paris. Mr. McNair is a Scotsman. He only came to this country about twelve years ago, a little after mother and I came.”
“Then you spent part of your childhood in Europe?”
“Most of it. The first eight years. I was born in Paris, but my father and mother were both Americans.” She tilted up her chin. “I’m an American girl.”
“You look it.” Fritz brought more beer, and Wolfe poured some. “And after twenty years Mr. McNair still shuts up shop on April second in memory of his wife. A steadfast man. Of course, he lost his daughter also — when she was two, I believe you said — which completed his loss. Still he goes on dressing women... well. Then you won’t be there tomorrow.”
“No, but I’ll be with Mr. McNair. I... do that for him. He asked it a long time ago, and mother let me, and I always do it. I’m almost exactly the same age his daughter was. Of course I don’t remember her, I was too young.”
“So you spend that day with him as a vicar for his daughter.” Wolfe shivered. “His mourning day. Ghoulish. And he puts diamonds on you. However... you are aware, of course, that your cousin, Mr. Llewellyn Frost, wants you to quit your job. Aren’t you?”
“Perhaps I am. But that isn’t even any of my business, is it? It’s his.”
“Certainly. Hence mine, since he is my client. Do you forget that he hired me?”
“I do not.” She sounded scornful. “But I can assure you that I am not going to discuss my cousin Lew with you. He means well. I know that.”
“But you don’t like the fuss.” Wolfe sighed. The foam had gone from his beer, and he tipped a little more in the glass, lifted it, and drank. I sat and tapped with my pencil on my notebook and looked at Miss Frost’s ankles and the hint of shapeliness ascending therefrom. I wasn’t exactly bored, but I was beginning to get anxious, wondering if the relapse germ was still working on Wolfe’s nerve centers. Not only was he not getting anywhere with this hard-working heiress, it didn’t sound to me as if he was half trying. Remembering the exhibitions I had seen him put on with others — for instance, Nyura Pronn in the Diplomacy Club business — I was beginning to harbor a suspicion that he was only killing time. At anything like his top form, he should have had this poor little rich girl herded into a corner long ago. But here he was...
I was diverted by the doorbell buzz and the sound of Fritz’s footsteps in the hall going to answer it. The idea popped into my head that Mr. Dudley Frost, not liking the way I had hung up on him, might be dropping around to get his nose straightened, and in a sort of negligent way I got solider in my chair, because I knew Wolfe was in no mood to be wafted away again by that verbal cyclone, and I damn well wasn’t going to pass out any more of the Old Corcoran.
But it wasn’t the cyclone, it was only the breeze, his son. Our client. Fritz came in and announced him, and at Wolfe’s nod went back and brought him in. He wasn’t alone. He ushered in ahead of him a plump little duck about his own age, with a round pink face and quick smart eyes. Lew Frost escorted this specimen forward, then dropped it and went to his cousin.
“Helen! You shouldn’t have done this—”
“Now, Lew, for heaven’s sake, why did you come here? Anyway, it’s your fault that I had to come.” She saw the plump one. “You too, Bennie?” She looked mad and grim. “Are you armed?”
Lew Frost turned to Wolfe, looking every inch a football player. “What the hell are you trying to pull? Do you think you can get away with this kind of stuff? How would you like it if I pulled you out of that chair—”
His plump friend grasped his arm, with authority. He was snappy: “None of that, Lew. Calm down. Introduce me.”
Our client controlled himself with an effort. “But, Ben... all right. That’s Nero Wolfe.” He glared at Wolfe. “This is Mr. Benjamin Leach, my attorney. Try some tricks on him.”
Wolfe inclined his head. “How do you do, Mr. Leach. I don’t know any tricks, Mr. Frost. Anyway, aren’t you getting things a little complicated? First you hire me to do a job for you, and now, judging from your attitude, you have hired Mr. Leach to circumvent me. If you keep on with that—”
“Not to circumvent you.” The lawyer sounded friendly and smooth. “You see, Mr. Wolfe, I’m an old friend of Lew’s. He’s a little hot-headed. He has told me something about this business... the, er, unusual circumstances, and I just thought it would be all right if he and I were present at any conversations you may have with Miss Frost. In fact, it would have been quite proper if you had arranged for us to be here from the beginning.” He smiled pleasantly. “Isn’t that so? Two of you and two of us?”
Wolfe had on a grimace. “You speak, sir, as if we were hostile armies drawn up for battle. Of course that’s natural, since bad blood is for lawyers what a bad tooth is for a dentist. I mean nothing invidious; detectives live on trouble too. But they don’t stir it up where there is none — at least, I don’t. I don’t ask you to sit down, because I don’t want you here. I fancy that on that point we shall have to consult — yes, Fritz?”
Fritz had knocked and entered, and now walked across to the desk with his company gait, bearing the pewter tray. He bent at the waist and extended it.
Wolfe picked up the card and looked at it. “Still not the right one. Tell him... no. Show him in.”
Fritz bowed and departed. The lawyer wheeled to face the door and Llewellyn turned his head, but Miss Frost just sat. The newcomer entered, and at sight of his thin nose and slick hair and dark darting eyes I squelched a grin and muttered to myself, “Still more fuss.”
I stood up. “Over here, Mr. Gebert.”
Lew Frost took a step and busted out at him, “You? What the hell do you want here?”
Wolfe spoke sharply, “Mr. Frost! This is my office!”
The lawyer took hold of our client — his too, of course — and held on. Perren Gebert paid no attention to either of them. He went past them before he stopped to incline his torso in Wolfe’s direction. “Mr. Wolfe? How do you do? Permit me.” He turned and bowed again, at Helen Frost, with a different technique. “So there you are! How are you? You’ve been crying! Forgive me, I have no tact, I shouldn’t have mentioned that. How are you? All right?”
“Certainly I’m all right! For heaven’s sake, Perren, why did you come?”
“I came to take you home.” Gebert turned and shot the dark eyes at Wolfe. “Permit me, sir. I came to escort Miss Frost home.”
“Indeed,” Wolfe murmured. “Officially? Forcibly? In spite of anything?”
“Well...” Gebert smiled. “Semi-officially. How shall I say it... Miss Frost is almost my fiancée.”
“Perren! That isn’t true! I’ve told you not to say that!”
“I said ‘almost,’ Helen.” He raised his palms to deprecate himself. “I put in the ‘almost,’ and I permit myself to say it only in hope—”
“Well, don’t say it again. Why did you come?”
Gebert got in another bow. “The truth is, your mother suggested it.”
“Oh. She did.” Miss Frost glanced around at all her protectors. She looked plenty exasperated. “I suppose she suggested it to you too, Lew. And you, Bennie?”
“Now, Helen.” The lawyer sounded persuasive. “Don’t start on me. I came here because when Lew told me about it, it seemed the best thing to do. — Be quiet, Lew! It seems to me that if we just discuss this thing quietly...”
The telephone rang, and I got back in my chair for it. Leach went on talking, spreading oil. As soon as I learned who it was on the phone I got discreet. I pronounced no names and kept my words down. It appeared to me likely that this time it was the right one. I asked him to hold the wire a minute, and choked the transmitter, and wrote on a piece of paper, McN wants to pay us a call, and handed it across to Wolfe.
Wolfe glanced at it and stuck it in his pocket and said softly, “Thank you, Archie. That’s more like it. Tell Mr. Brown to telephone again in fifteen minutes.”
I had trouble with that. McNair was urgent and wasn’t going to be put off. The others had stopped talking. I made it reassuring but firm, and finally managed it. I hung up and told Wolfe:
“Okay.”
He was making preparations to rise. He shoved his chair back, got his hands on its arms for levers, and up came the mountain. He stood and distributed a glance and put on his crispest tone:
“Gentlemen. It is nearly four o’clock and I must leave you. — No, permit me. Miss Frost has kindly accepted my invitation to come to my plant rooms and see my orchids. She is... she and I have concluded a little agreement. I may say that I am not an ogre and I resent your silly invasion of my premises. You gentlemen are leaving now, and certainly she is free to accompany you if she chooses to do that. — Miss Frost?”
She stood up. Her lips were compressed, but she opened them to say, “I’ll look at the orchids.”
They all began yapping at once. I got up and prepared for traffic duty in case of a jam. Llewellyn broke loose from his lawyer and started toward her, ready to throw her behind his saddle and gallop off. She gave them a good brave stare:
“For heaven’s sake, shut up! Don’t you think I’m old enough to take care of myself? Lew, stop that!”
She started off with Wolfe. All they could do was take it and look foolish. The lawyer friend pulled at his little pink nose. Perren Gebert stuck his hands in his pockets and stood straight. Llewellyn strode to the door, after the orchid lovers had passed through, and all we could see was his fine strong back. The sound of the elevator door closing came from the hall, and the whirr of its ascending.
I announced, “That’ll be all for the present, and I don’t like scenes. They get on my nerves.”
Lew Frost whirled and told me, “Go to hell.”
I grinned at him. “I can’t plug you, because you’re our client. But you might as well beat it. I’ve got work to do.”
The plump one said, “Come on, Lew, we’ll go to my office.”
Perren Gebert was already on the move. Llewellyn stood aside and glared him full of holes as he passed. Then Leach went and nudged his friend along. I tripped by to open the front door for them; Llewellyn was continuing with remarks, but I disdained them. He and his attorney went down the stoop to the sidewalk and headed east; Gebert had climbed into a neat little convertible which he had parked back of the roadster and was stepping on the starter. I shut the door and went back in.
I switched on the house phone for the plant room and pressed the button. In about twenty seconds Wolfe answered, and I told him:
“It’s quiet and peaceful down here now. No fuss at all.”
His murmur came at me: “Good. Miss Frost is in the middle room, enjoying the orchids... reasonably well. When Mr. McNair phones, tell him six o’clock. If he insists on coming earlier, let him, and keep him. Let me know when he is there, and have the office door closed. She left her vanity case on my desk. Send Fritz up with it.”
“Okay.”
I switched off and settled to wait for McNair’s call, reflecting on the relative pulling power of beauty in distress and two million iron men and how it probably depended on whether you were the romantic type or not.