him I winked back.
Nero Wolfe 37 - Gambit
CHAPTER FIVE
In the marble lobby of the marble tenement on Fifth Avenue in the Seventies, I was expected. The man in uniform didn’t even let me finish. When I said, “Name,
Archie Goodwin, to see - “, he broke in, “Yes, Mr. Goodwin,” and showed me to the elevator. But he phoned while I was being lifted, for when I emerged on the sixteenth floor the client was there, standing in the doorway. She put a hand out, not as an offer to shake but asking for help. I took it with my right and gave it a pat with my left as I told her, “Nineteen minutes. Taxi drivers don’t like snow.”
Inside, in a foyer the size of Wolfe’s office, after I had shed my hat and coat she led me through an arch and across a dozen yards of rug to a fireplace. On the way I took a glance around. Pictures, chairs, a piano in a corner, doodads on stands, potted plants on a rack that took up most of the far end, lamps here and there. The fireplace, where a fire was going, was three times as wide as the one Wolfe used for burning dictionaries.
“Sit down,” Sally said. “I’ll bring my mother, but I don’t know what you’re going to say to her. Do you?”
“Of course not. It depends. What’s the pinch?”
“She says I must call it off - with Nero Wolfe. She’s going to tell Dan Kalmus to tell my father, and I know what he’ll say. I’m sure he will.” She put finger tips on my arm. “I’m going to call you Archie.”
“Good. I answer to it.”
“I can’t call him Nero, I don’t think anybody could, but I can call you Archie,
and I’m going to. This morning, did I say this is the first good thing I have ever done?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it is, and I’m doing it, but I have to know somebody is with me. Really with me.” Her fingers were around my arm. “Will you'Are you'Archie?”
My mind wasn’t. It was still with the facts. But having it put to me straight like that, if I had tried hedging I wouldn’t have been loyal to my concept of the obligations of manhood. It had to be either yes or no. “Okay,” I said,
“since it’s the first good thing you’ve ever done I’m with you all the way.
Anyhow, you’re Nero Wolfe’s client and I work for him, so everything fits. As for what I’ll say to your mother, I’ll decide that when I see her. If she’s willing to -“
I stopped because her eyes left me. With her back to the fireplace, she had the room in view and I didn’t. I turned. A woman had entered and was approaching.
Sally spoke. “I was coming for you, mother. Mr. Wolfe couldn’t come. This is Archie Goodwin.”
I would have appreciated better light. The lamps were shaded and not close. As she came near the firelight played on her face, but that’s tricky; one second she looked younger than her daughter, and the next, she was a hag. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake hands, Mr. Goodwin,” she said. “I wouldn’t mean it.
Please sit down.”
She didn’t sit, she sank, into an armchair on the right. I took one at right angles to her and twisted to face her. Sally stood. I spoke. “Your daughter asked me what I was going to say to you, and I told her I didn’t know. She has hired Nero Wolfe to do a job for her and I work for him. If I tell you anything about it, it will have to be with your daughter’s consent. She’s the client.”
Her eyes were brown like Sally’s, but not as big. “You’re a private detective,”
she said.
“Right.”
“It’s grotesque.” She shook her head. “A private detective telling me my daughter is his client and he can talk to me only with her consent. But of course it’s all grotesque. My husband in jail charged with murder. He has a lawyer, a good one. My daughter can’t hire a private detective without his approval. I have told her that, and now you must tell her. That’s … isn’t that wrong'It must be.”
Taking her in, I was making allowances. When lots of men had enjoyed being in the
Nero Wolfe 37 - Gambit
CHAPTER FIVE
In the marble lobby of the marble tenement on Fifth Avenue in the Seventies, I was expected. The man in uniform didn’t even let me finish. When I said, “Name,
Archie Goodwin, to see - “, he broke in, “Yes, Mr. Goodwin,” and showed me to the elevator. But he phoned while I was being lifted, for when I emerged on the sixteenth floor the client was there, standing in the doorway. She put a hand out, not as an offer to shake but asking for help. I took it with my right and gave it a pat with my left as I told her, “Nineteen minutes. Taxi drivers don’t like snow.”
Inside, in a foyer the size of Wolfe’s office, after I had shed my hat and coat she led me through an arch and across a dozen yards of rug to a fireplace. On the way I took a glance around. Pictures, chairs, a piano in a corner, doodads on stands, potted plants on a rack that took up most of the far end, lamps here and there. The fireplace, where a fire was going, was three times as wide as the one Wolfe used for burning dictionaries.
“Sit down,” Sally said. “I’ll bring my mother, but I don’t know what you’re going to say to her. Do you?”
“Of course not. It depends. What’s the pinch?”
“She says I must call it off - with Nero Wolfe. She’s going to tell Dan Kalmus to tell my father, and I know what he’ll say. I’m sure he will.” She put finger tips on my arm. “I’m going to call you Archie.”
“Good. I answer to it.”
“I can’t call him Nero, I don’t think anybody could, but I can call you Archie,
and I’m going to. This morning, did I say this is the first good thing I have ever done?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it is, and I’m doing it, but I have to know somebody is with me. Really with me.” Her fingers were around my arm. “Will you'Are you'Archie?”
My mind wasn’t. It was still with the facts. But having it put to me straight like that, if I had tried hedging I wouldn’t have been loyal to my concept of the obligations of manhood. It had to be either yes or no. “Okay,” I said,
“since it’s the first good thing you’ve ever done I’m with you all the way.
Anyhow, you’re Nero Wolfe’s client and I work for him, so everything fits. As for what I’ll say to your mother, I’ll decide that when I see her. If she’s willing to -“
I stopped because her eyes left me. With her back to the fireplace, she had the room in view and I didn’t. I turned. A woman had entered and was approaching.
Sally spoke. “I was coming for you, mother. Mr. Wolfe couldn’t come. This is Archie Goodwin.”
I would have appreciated better light. The lamps were shaded and not close. As she came near the firelight played on her face, but that’s tricky; one second she looked younger than her daughter, and the next, she was a hag. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake hands, Mr. Goodwin,” she said. “I wouldn’t mean it.
Please sit down.”
She didn’t sit, she sank, into an armchair on the right. I took one at right angles to her and twisted to face her. Sally stood. I spoke. “Your daughter asked me what I was going to say to you, and I told her I didn’t know. She has hired Nero Wolfe to do a job for her and I work for him. If I tell you anything about it, it will have to be with your daughter’s consent. She’s the client.”
Her eyes were brown like Sally’s, but not as big. “You’re a private detective,”
she said.
“Right.”
“It’s grotesque.” She shook her head. “A private detective telling me my daughter is his client and he can talk to me only with her consent. But of course it’s all grotesque. My husband in jail charged with murder. He has a lawyer, a good one. My daughter can’t hire a private detective without his approval. I have told her that, and now you must tell her. That’s … isn’t that wrong'It must be.”
Taking her in, I was making allowances. When lots of men had enjoyed being in the
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