Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 07 by Over My Dead Body

must have been a pip of a swordsman, I reflected, as I got my hat and coat from the rack and meandered to the hall and out the street door to the sidewalk.
    My wrist told me it was a quarter to six. Wolfe would still be up in the plant rooms, and he wasn’t enthusiastic about being disturbed regarding business while there, but I considered that this wasn’t business, properly speaking, but a family matter. So I found a drugstore with a phone booth and called the number.
    “Hello, Mr. Wolfe? Mr. Goodwin speaking.”
    “Well?”
    “Well, I’m in a drugstore at 48th and Lexington. It’s all over. It was a farce in three acts. First she, meaning your daughter, seemed to be more bored than bothered. Second, a chap named Percy said she was frisking his coat for cigarettes, not Driscoll’s for diamonds, which appeared to be news to her, judging from her expression. Third act, enter Driscoll with a trouble hound and a written apology. There hadn’t been any diamonds in his coat. None had been stolen.His mistake. Sorry and damn sorry. So I’m headed for home. I may add that she doesn’t resemble you a particle and she is very good-look—”
    “You’re sure it’s clear?”
    “It’s cleared up. Settled. I wouldn’t say it’s entirely clear.”
    “You went there with two problems. What about the second one?”
    “No light on it. Not a glimmer. No chance to sniff around on it. There was a mob present, and when the meeting broke up both Balkans went off to give fencing lessons.”
    “Who is the man named Percy?”
    “Percy Ludlow. My age, and a good deal like me—courteous, gifted, of distinguished appear—”
    “You say my—she seemed to be bored. Do you mean to imply—is she stupid?”
    “Oh, no. I mean it. Maybe she’s a little complicated, but she’s not stupid.”
    Silence. No talk. It lasted so long that I finally said, “Hello, you there?”
    “Yes. Get her and bring her here. I want to see her.”
    “Yeah, I thought so. I expected that. It’s a perfectly natural feeling and does you credit, but that’s why I phoned, to explain that I asked her if she had a message for you and she said no, and I said she ought to drop in on you to say hello and she said she would someday, and now she’s in there crossing blades with Percy—”
    “Wait till she’s through and bring her.”
    “Do you mean that?”
    “I do.”
    “I may have to carry her or—”
    He hung up, which is a trick I detest.
    I went to the fountain and got a glass of grapefruit juice, and while drinking it considered persuasions to use on her short of force, but developed nothing satisfactory, and then strolled back along 48th Street to the scene of operations.
    Nikola Miltan and his wife were the only ones in the office. It looked to me as if she had been headed for the door when I entered, but when I took off my hat and coat and put them on the rack, explaining that I wanted to see Miss Tormic when she was disengaged, apparently she changed her mind and decided to stick around. Miltan invited me to have a chair, and I sat down not far from the desk where he was, while his wife opened a door of the big glass cabinet and began rearranging things which didn’t need it.
    “I have met Mr. Nero Wolfe,” Miltan offered politely.
    I nodded. “So I understand.”
    “He is a remarkable man. Remarkable.”
    “Well, I know of one guy that would agree with you.”
    “Only one?”
    “At least one. Mr. Wolfe.”
    “Ah. A joke.” He laughed politely. “I imagine there are many others. In fact—what is it, Jeanne?”
    His wife had uttered a foreign exclamation, of surprise or maybe dismay. “The
col de mort,
” she told him. “It’s not here. Did you remove it?”
    “I did not. Of course not. It was there—I’m sure—”
    He got up and trotted over to the cabinet, and I arose and wandered after him. Together they stared at a spot. He stretched, and then ducked, to inspect the other shelves.
    “No,” she said, “it’s not