by Rex Stout
“Better grab it, son, Dykes said, perfectly friendly. “Loyalty to your employer is a fine thing, but not when he’s got a screw loose.
I yawned. “My God, I’m sleepy. I wouldn’t mind this so much if I was helping out with a fix, good or bad, but it’s a shame to get stuck with the truth. Ask me tomorrow, ask me all summer, I refuse to tell a lie. And I do not know where Mr
Wolfe is.
Archer stood up. “Get a material witness warrant and lock him up, he said, almost squeaking, and marched out.
Chapter Eight
The jail at White Plains uses a gallon of strong disinfectant, diluting it, of course, every day including Sunday. I can back that statement up with two pieces of evidence: the word of the turnkey on the second-floor cell block, whose name is Wilkes, given to me personally, and my sense of smell, which is above average.
I had no opportunity to make a tour of inspection during the twenty hours I was there, that Easter Sunday and the day following, but except for the smell I found nothing to write to the newspapers about, once you grant that society must protect itself against characters like me. My cell-or rather, our cell, since I had a mate-was as clean as they come. There was something about the blankets that made you keep them away from your chin, but that could have been just prejudice. The light was nothing wonderful, but good enough to read by for thirty days.
I didn’t really get acquainted with my surroundings or my mate until Monday, I was so darned sleepy when they finally finished with me down below and showed me up to my room. They had been insistent but not ferocious. I had been allowed to phone Fritz that I wouldn’t be home, which was a good thing, as there was no telling what he would have done with no word from me coming on top of Wolfe’s fade out, and also to try to call Nathaniel Parker, the only lawyer Wolfe has ever been willing to invite to dinner; but that was no go because he was away for the weekend. When at last I stretched out on the cot, I was dead to the world ten seconds after my head hit the pillow, consisting of my trousers wrapped in my shirt.
It was the trousers, or rather the coat and vest that went with them, that made my stay pleasanter than it might have been right from the start. I had had perhaps half as much sleep as I could have used when a hell of a noise banged at me and I lifted my head and opened my eyes. Across the cell on another cot, so far away that I would have had to stretch my arm its full length to touch him, was my cell mate-a broad-shouldered guy about my age, maybe a little older, with a mop of tousled black hair. He was sitting up, yawning.
“What’s all the racket? I asked. “Jail break?
“Breakfast and checkup in ten minutes, he replied, getting his feet, with socks on, to the floor. “Stupid custom.
“Boneheads, I agreed, twisting up to sit on the edge of the cot.
Going to the chair where his wardrobe was, his glance fell on my chair, and he stepped to it for a look at the coat and vest. He fingered the lapel, looked inside at the lining, and inspected a buttonhole. Then, without comment, he returned to his side, two whole steps, and started to dress. I followed suit.
“Where do we wash? I inquired.
“After breakfast, he replied, “if you insist.
A man in uniform appeared on the other side of the bars and used his hands, and the cell door swung open.
“Wait a minute, Wilkes, my mate told him, and then asked me, “You cleaned out?
“Naturally. This is a modern jail.
“Would bacon and eggs suit you?
“Just right.
“Toast white or rye?
“White.
“Our tastes are similar. Make it two, Wilkes. Two of everything.
“As you say, the turnkey said distinctly, and went. My mate, getting his necktie under his shirt collar, told me, “They won’t allow exceptions to the turnout and checkup, but you can pass up the garbage. We’ll eat here in privacy.
This, I said earnestly, “is the brotherhood of man. I would like this breakfast to be on me when I get my wallet back.
He waved it away. “Forget it.
The turnout and checkup, I discovered, were not to be taken as opportunities for conversation. There were around forty of us, all shapes and sizes, and on the whole we were frankly not a blue-ribbon outfit. The smell of the breakfast added to the disinfectant was enough to account for the expressions on the faces, not counting whatever it was that had got them there, and it was a relief to get back to my cosy cell with my mate.
We had our hands and faces washed, and he had his teeth brushed, when the breakfast came on a big clean aluminium tray. The eats were barely usable if you took Fritz’s productions as a standard, but compared with the community meal which I had seen and smelled they were a handsome feast. My mate having ordered two of everything, there were two morning Gazettes, and before he even touched his orange juice he took his paper and, with no glance at the front page, turned to sports. Finishing his survey of the day’s prospects, he drank some orange juice and inquired, “Are you interested in the rapidity of horses?
“In a way. I added earnestly, “I like the way you talk. I enjoy being with cultured people.
He gave me a suspicious look, saw my honest candid countenance, and relaxed.
“That’s natural. Look at your clothes.
We were on the chairs, with the little wooden table between us. It was comfortable enough except that there was no room to prop up our morning papers.
He flattened his out, still open at sports, on the end of the cot, and turned to it while disposing of a bite of food. I arranged mine, front page, on my knee.
In the picture of Mrs Rackham the poor woman looked homelier than she had actually been, which was a darned shame even though she wasn’t alive to see it.
Wolfe’s name and mine both appeared in the subheads under the three-column spread about the murder. I glanced at the bottom, followed the instructions to turn to page four, and there saw more pictures. The’one of Wolfe was only fair, making him look almost bloated, but the one of me was excellent. There was one of a Doberman pinscher standing at attention. It was captioned Hebe, which I doubted. The play in the text on Wolfe and me was on his sudden retirement from business and absence from the city, and on my presence at the scene of the murder and arrest as a material witness. There was also a report of an interview with Marko Vukcic, a Gazette exclusive, with Lon Cohen’s by-line. I would have given at least ten to one that Lon had used my name in getting to Marko.
With the breakfast all down, including the coffee, which was pretty good, I was so interested in my reading that I didn’t notice that my mate had finished with sports and proceeded to other current events. What got my attention’ was the feeling that I was being scrutinised, and sure enough I was. He was looking at me, and then at his page four, and back at me again.
I grinned at him. “Pretty good likeness, huh? But I don’t think that’s the right dog. I’m no expert, but Hebe isn’t quite as slim as that.
He was regarding me with a new expression, not particularly matey.
“So you’re Nero Wolfe’s little Archie.
“I was. I gestured. “Read the paper. Apparently I am now my own little Archie.
“So I bought a meal for a shamus.
“Not at all. Didn’t I say it was on me when I get my wallet back?
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have believed it. With them clothes? I supposed you had got snagged in the raid on the Covered Porch. It gets worse all the time, the dicks. Look at this, even here in the can I meet a guy with a suit of clothes like that, and he’s a dick!
“I am not a dick, strictly speaking. I was hurt. “I am a private eye. I said I liked the way you talk, but you’re getting careless. I also noticed you were cultured, and that should have put me on my guard. Cultured people are not often found in the coop. But nowadays dicks are frequently cultured. They tossed me in here because they think I’m holding out on a murder, which I’m not, and the fact that it has been tried before doesn’t mean they wouldn’t try it again.
Putting you in here with me wasn’t so dumb, but you overplayed it, buying me a breakfast first pop. That started me wondering.
He was on his feet, glaring down at me. “Watch it, looselip. I’m going to clip you.
“What for?
“You need a lesson. I’m a plant, am I?
“Nuts. Who’s insulted now? I gestured. “You call me a name, I call you a name.
I take it, you take it. Let’s start over.
But he was too sensitive to make up as quick as all that. He undid his fist, glared at me some more, sidled between his chair and his cot, and got comfortable on the cot with his Gazette. With his head towards the corridor he was getting as good light as there was, and I followed his example, folding one of the blankets for a pillow and spreading my handkerchief on it. Two hours and ten minutes passed without a word from either cot. I happen to know because as I stretched out I glanced at my watch, wondering how soon I could reasonably expect Parker to show up with a crowbar to pry me loose, and it was twenty past nine; and, after giving that Gazette as good a play as a newspaper ever got, I had just looked at my watch for the twentieth time and seen 11.30 when he suddenly spoke.
“Look, Goodwin, what are you going to do now?
I let the paper slide to the floor. “I don’t know, take a nap, I guess.
“I don’t mean now, this minute. Is anyone looking after you?
“If he isn’t he’d better be. A high-priced lawyer named Parker.
Then what?
Til go home and take a bath.
Then what?
Til brush my teeth and shave.
Then what?
I swivelled my head to glance at him. “You’re pretty damn’ persistent. Where do you want us to get to?
“Nowhere in particular. He stayed supine, and I noticed that in profile he looked a little like John L. Lewis, only a lot younger. He went on, “I was just thinking, with Nero Wolfe gone I suppose your job’s gone. Can’t I think?
“Sure. If it doesn’t hurt.
A brief silence. He spoke again. Tve heard about you a little. What kind of a guy are you?
“Oh-I’m a thinker too, and I’m cultured. I got good marks in algebra. I sleep well. I’m honest and ambitious, with a good personality.
“You know your way around.
“In certain circles, yes. It would be hard to lose me within ten miles of Times
Square unless I was blindfolded. What are the requirements of the position you are about to offer?
He ignored that and took another angle. “My name is Christy-Max Christy. Ever hear of me?
If I had, it was vague, but I saw no point in hurting his feelings. “Max
Christy? I snorted. “Don’t be silly.
“I thought you might have. I’ve only been around the big town a couple of years, and I don’t toot a horn, but some people get talked about. How much has Wolfe been paying you?
That’s asking, I objected mildly. “I wouldn’t want it to get in the papers.
I’ve been eating all right and I’ve got a government bond. Anything over—
Footsteps in the corridor stopped at our door, and the turnkey’s voice came. “Mr
Christy! They want you down in the office.
My mate stayed flat. “Come back in ten minutes, Wilkes, he called. “I’m busy.
I confirmed it. “We’re in conference, Wilkes, I snapped.
“But I think it’s your out.
“I suppose so. Come back in ten minutes.
Wilkes, mumbling something, went away. Christy resumed. “You were saying…
“Yeah. That anything over fifty grand a year would find me a good listener.
“I’m being serious, Goodwin.
“So am I.
“You are not. You never got within a mile of fifty grand a year. His head was turned to face me now. “Anyway, it’s not a question of so many grand a year-not in this business.
“In what business?
“The business I’m in. What did I say my name is?
“Max Christy.
“Then what more do you want? Take my being here now, for example. I got raked in at the Covered Porch yesterday by mistake, but I would have been loose in an hour if it hadn’t been Sunday-and Easter too. Here it is-he looked at his wrist-not quite noon, and I’m walking out. There has never been an organisation to compare with it. For a man like you there would be special jobs and special opportunities if you once got taken in. With your record, which is bad as far as
I know it, that would take a while. You would have to show, and show good. Your idea about so many grand a year just isn’t realistic, certainly not while you’re being tried, but after that it would depend on you. If you’ve got it in you there’s practically no limit. Another thing is income tax.
“Yeah, what about income tax?
“You simply use your judgment. Say Wolfe paid you thirty grand a year, which he didn’t, nothing like it, what did you have to say about income tax? Nothing. It was taken out before you got paid. You never even saw it. In this business you make your own decisions about it. You want to be fair and you want to be in the clear, but you don’t want to get gypped, and on that basis you use your judgment.
Christy rasied his torso and sat-on the edge of the cot. “You know, Goodwin, I’m just tossing this at you on the spur of the moment. I laid here reading about you, and I thought to myself, here’s a man the right age and experience, not married, the right personality, he knows people, he knows lots of cops, he has been a private eye for years and so he would be open to anything that sounds good enough; he is just out of a job, he’s got himself tangled in a hot homicide here in Westchester, and he may need help right now. That’s what I was thinking, and I thought why not ask him? I can’t guarantee anything, especially if you’re headed for a murder rap, but if you need help now and then later on you would like a chance at something, I’m Max Christy and I could pass the word along. If you-He paused at the sound of footsteps. Wilkes’ voice came from the door. “They want you down there, Mr Christy. I told them you was busy personally, but they’re sending up.
“All right, Wilkes. Coming. My mate stood up. “What about it, Goodwin?
“I appreciate it, I said warmly. Wilkes, having unlocked the door, was standing there, and, using my judgment, I kept it discreet. “When I get out and look around a little I’ll know better how things stand. I had got to my feet. “How do I get in touch with you?
“Phone is best. Churchill five, three two three two. I’m not there much, but a message will reach me promptly. Better write it down.
Til remember it. I took his offered hand and we shook. “It’s been a pleasure.
Where can I mail a cheque for the breakfast?
“Forget it. It was a privilege. Be seeing you, I hope. He strode out like an executive going to greet a welcome caller, Wilkes holding the door for him.
I sat down on the cot, thinking it was a hell of a note for a Max Christy to get sprung before an Archie Goodwin. What was keeping Parker? In jail a man gets impatient.
Chapter Nine
It was seven o’clock that evening, just getting dark, when I left the car at the curb on West Thirty-fifth Street in front of Wolfe’s house and climbed the seven steps to the stoop. Parker, armed with papers which stated, among other things, that my continued availability to the People of the State of New York was worth ten thousand dollars, had arrived at the jail shortly after two, and in another ten minutes I had been unleashed on society again, but District Attorney Archer had requested another session with me in the presence of my attorney, and Parker and I had obliged. It had dragged on and on, and was really a bore, because there was nothing for me to try to be witty about. Unlike some other occasions when I had been in conference with the law, there was nothing to stimulate me because all I had to do was tell the truth, and all of it-except the sausage part and the phone call from Arnold Zeck.
When they had finally called it a day and Parker and I were standing on the sidewalk
in front of the courthouse, he asked me, “Am I to know where Wolfe is?
“I doubt it. He told me not to look for him.
“I see.
His tone of voice irritated me. “Every word you heard me say in there, I asserted, “was the truth. I haven’t the thinnest idea where he is or what he’s doing.
He shrugged. “I’m not complaining. I only hope he hasn’t tumbled in where it’s too deep this time-and you too.
“Go to hell, I advised him, and marched off. I couldn’t really blame the
Westchester bunch, but Parker should have known me well enough to tell which side of my mouth I was talking out of. It’s damn’ discouraging, when you do tell the truth, not to have it recognised.
Also discouraging was the welcome I got on entering Wolfe’s house that evening.
It was in the form of a note stuck in the corner of my desk blotter, unfolded.
Dear Archie—
I am sorry you are in jail and hope it will not last long. Mr Vukcic has been to see me and I am leaving now to go to work for him $1500. There has been no word from Mr Wolfe. God grant he is safe and well and I think you should find him no matter what he wrote. I threw out the jar of sardines and stopped the milk. My very best regards and wishes,
Fritz
1.35p.m.
I was pleased to observe that he struck to routine to the end, putting the time down. Also it was nice of him to end his note to me the same as Wolfe had ended his. Nevertheless, it was a discouraging welcome home after a night in the hoosegow. And there had been a period of more than five hours when any phone calls that might have come would not have been answered, something that had never happened before in all the years I had worked and lived there. Unless
Theodore…
I beat it to the stairs and up the three flights, and entered the plant rooms.