"Not unless you want a better one. He knows I'm acting for you. He knows you can tell me anything you want to. If he's willing to risk a conflict of interest, it's up to you. Of course, if you want another lawyer -" "No, thank you. You'll be famous. It's a coincidence -Wolfe will like that. Five men being tried now in Washington for conspiracy to obstruct justice-Haldeman, Ehrlichman, Mitchell, Mardian, and Parkinson. Five being charged here with conspiracy to obstruct justice-Wolfe, Goodwin, Panzer, Durkin, and Gather.
[118] That's probably what Wolfe has in mind. I'm glad to be in on it. So here's my privileged communication."
I drank, milk and then bourbon for a change, and proceeded to confide in my lawyer.
An hour and a half later, at five minutes past eight, Parker dropped me off at Thirty-fifth Street and Eighth Avenue. I would stretch my legs for a block and a half. He new had plenty of facts but could offer no suggestion on what to do with them, since I still intended to hang on. It was ten to one that he would have liked to advise me to turn loose but couldn't on account of Wolfe. That looked to me a lot like conflict of interest, but I had learned not to try splitting hairs with a lawyer. They think you're not in their class. Anyway we shook hands before I climbed out.
At the brownstone the chain bolt was on and I had to ring for Fritz. I am not rubbing it in when I say that he pinched his nose when I took my coat off; a super cook has a super sense of smell.
"I don't need to say," he said. "Anyway, here you are, grace a Dieu. You look terrible."
I kept the coat on my arm. "I feel worse. This will have to go to the cleaners, and so will I. In about two hours I'll come down and clean out the refrigerator and shelves for you, and you can start over. He's in the dining room?"
"No, I took up a tray, a plain omelet with five eggs and bread for toast, and coffee. Before that he had me rub lilac vegetal on his back. The paper said you were in jail, all of you. Are you going to tell me anything? He didn't."
"It's like this, Fritz. I know ten thousand details that you don't know, but the one important detail, what's going to happen next-I'm no better off than you are. You tell me something. You know him as [119] well as I do, maybe better. What's the French word for crazy? Insane. Batty."
"Fou. Insense."
" I like fou. Is he fou?"
"No. He looked me in my eye."
"Okay, then wait and see. Do me a favor. Buzz him on the house phone and tell him I'm home."
"But you'll see him. He'll see you."
"No he won't. I'm not fou either. You'll see me in two hours."
I headed for the stairs.
[120] 13 You would expect - anyway, I would-that the main assault in the campaign of the media to get the story to the American people would come from the Gazette. The Gazette was the leader in emphasizing flavor and color in everything from markets to murders, and also there was the habit of my exchanging tits for tats with Lon Cohen. But the worst two were Bill Wengert of the Times and Art Hollis of CBS News. Now that the dinner party at Rusterman's was in the picture-nobody knew exactly how-and the murder of Harvey H. Bassett of NATELEC was connected with the other two-nobody knew exactly why -probably the brass at the Times was on Wengert's neck. And Hollis, the damn fool, had sold CBS the idea of sending a crew with equipment to Nero Wolfe's office for a twenty-six-minute interview without first arranging to get them in. So for a couple of days a fair amount of my time and energy was devoted to public relations. Omitting the details, I will only remark that it is not a good idea to persuade the Times that any future item of news with your name in it will not be fit to print.
The most interesting incident Tuesday morning was my walking to a building on Thirty-fourth Street to enter a booth and push levers on a voting machine. I have never understood why anybody passes up that [121] bargain. It doesn't cost a cent, and for that couple of minutes you're the star of the show, with top billing. It's the only way that really counts for you to say I'm it, I'm the one that decides what's going to happen and who's going to make it happen. It's the only time I really feel important and know I have a right to. Wonderful. Sometimes the feeling lasts all the way home if somebody doesn't bump me.
There was no sight or sound of Wolfe until he came down for lunch. No sound of the elevator, so he didn't go up to the plant rooms. I knew he was alive and breathing, because Fritz told me he cleaned up a normal breakfast, and also, when I returned from voting and a walk around a few blocks, Fritz reported that Parker had phoned and Wolfe had taken it up in his room. And the program for lunch was normal-baked bluefish stuffed with ground shrimp, and endive salad with watercress. When Wolfe came down at a quarter past one he looked in at the office door to tell me good morning, though it wasn't mom-ing, and then crossed to the dining room. I had considered eating in the kitchen but had decided that we would have to be on speaking terms, since we had the same counsel. Also it would have given Fritz one more reason to worry, and he didn't need it.
As I got seated at the table, Wolfe asked if there had been any word from Fred or Orrie, and I said yes, they had called and I had told them to stand by, I would call them as soon as I knew what to say. He didn't mention Saul, so I assumed he had called while I was out, though Fritz hadn't said so. And he didn't mention the call from Parker. So evidently, although we were on speaking terms, the speaking wasn't going to include the matter of our right to life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. When he had carved the bluefish and Fritz had brought me mine and taken his, he asked me where he should go to vote and I told him. Then he asked how many seats I thought [122] the Democrats would gain in the House and the Senate, and we discussed it in detail. Then he asked if I had split the ticket, and I said yes, I had voted for Carey but not for dark, and we discussed that.
It was quite a performance. Over the years he had had relapses and grouches, and once or twice he had come close to a tantrum, but this was a new one. Our licenses had been suspended, if we crossed the river to Jersey or drove up to Westport or Danbury we would be locked up without bail, and we had three men out on the same limb with us, but pfui. Skip it. It will all come out in the wash. And Fritz was right, he wasn't fou, he had merely decided that, since the situation was absolutely hopeless, he would ignore it. When we left the table at ten minutes past two, I decided to give him twenty-four hours and then issue an ultimatum, if necessary.
Four hours later I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure of anything. When we left the dining room he had neither crossed the hall to the office nor taken the elevator back to his room; he had announced that he was going to go and vote and reached to the rack for the coat he had brought down. Certainly; voting was one of the few personal errands that got him out in any weather. But at a quarter past six he hadn't come back, and that was ridiculous. Four hours. All bets were off. He was in a hospital or the morgue, or in an airplane headed for Montenegro. I was regretting that I hadn't turned on the six-o'clock news and considering whether to start phoning now or wait until after dinner when the doorbell rang and I went to the hall, and there he was. He never carried keys. I went and opened the door and he entered, said, "I decided to do an errand," and unbuttoned his coat.
I said, "Much traffic?"
He said, "Of course. There always is."
As I hung up his coat I decided not to wait until [123] tomorrow for the ultimatum. After dinner in the office, when Fritz had gone with the coffee tray. Wolfe went to the kitchen, and I went up to my room to stand at the window and consider how to word it.
That meal stands out as the one I enjoyed least of all the ones I have had at that table. I really thought It might be the last one, but I used my knife and fork as usual, and chewed and swallowed, and heard what he said about things like the expressions on the people's faces as they stood in line in front of the voting booths. When we went to the office and sat and Fritz came with the coffee, I still hadn't decided how to start the ultimatum, but that didn't bother me. I knew from long experience that it would go better if I let it start itself.
; There were a couple of swallows left of my second cup when the doorbell rang and I went for a look. It was a gang, and I went part way down the hall to make sure before I returned to the office and said, "It's four of the six. Vilar, Judd, Hahn, and Igoe. No Ackerman or Urquhart."
"None of them telephoned?"
"Yes. None."
"Bring them."
I went. I couldn't tell, as I swung the door open and they entered and got their coats off, what to expect. Evidently they hadn't come merely to deliver an ultimatum, for in the office Judd went to the red leather chair and the others moved up yellow ones. And Judd told Wolfe, "You don't look like you've just spent time in jail."
"I have spent more time in a dirtier jail," Wolfe said. "In Algiers."
"Yes? I have never been in jail. Yet. Two of us wanted to come this morning, but I wanted to get more facts. I haven't got them-not enough. Perhaps you can supply them. I understand that you and Good-win aren't talking, not at all, and neither are the men [124] A FAMILY AFFAIR .
you hired, but we are being asked about a slip of paper one of us handed Bassett at that dinner, and there has been another murder, and we are even being asked where we were Saturday morning, when that woman was killed. You said you wouldn't go to the District Attorney, and apparently you haven't. You didn't go, you were taken. We want to know what the hell is going on."
"So do I."
"Goddam it," Igoe blurted, "you'll talk to us! "I will indeed."
Wolfe sent his eyes around. "I'm glad you came, gentlemen. I suppose Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Urquhart didn't want to enter this jurisdiction, and I don't blame them. As for the slip of paper, Lucile Ducos knew about it, but she was killed. Evidently Marie Garrou, the maid, also knew about it, possibly by eavesdropping, and she has talked. So you are being harassed, and that's regrettable. But I don't regret hunting you up and entangling you, because one of you supplied information that I may find useful. Two of you. Mr. Igoe told Mr. Goodwin that Mr. Bassett had obsessions- his word-and Mr. Hahn told me that one of his obsessions, a powerful one, centered on his wife."
When I heard him say that, I knew. It came in a flash, like lightning. It wasn't a guess or a hunch, I knew. I'm aware that you probably knew a while back and you're surprised that I didn't, but that doesn't prove that you're smarter than I am. You are just reading about it, and I was in it, right in the middle of it. Also, I may have pointed once or twice, but I'm not going back and make changes. I try to make these reports straight, straight accounts of what happened, and I'm not going to try to get tricky.
I'll try to report the rest of that conversation, but I can't swear to it. I was there and I heard it, but I had a decision to make that couldn't wait until they had gone. Obviously Wolfe was standing mute to [125] me. Why? Damn it, why? But that could wait, and the decision couldn't. The question was, should I let him know that I now knew the score? And something happened that had happened a thousand times before; I discovered that I was only pretending to try to decide. The decision had already been made by my subconscious-I call it that because I don't know any other name for it. I was not going to let him know that I knew. If that was the way he wanted to play it, all right, it took two to play and we would see who fumbled first.
Meanwhile they were talking, and I have changed my mind. I said I would try to report the rest of that conversation, but I would be faking it. If anyone had said anything that changed the picture or added to it, I would report that, but they didn't. Wolfe tried to get Hahn and Igoe started again on Mrs. Bassett, but no. Evidently they had decided they shouldn't have mentioned her. They had come to find out why Wolfe had dragged them in, and specifically they wanted to know-especially Judd and Vilar-about Pierre Ducos, who had died there in Wolfe's house when no one was there but us, and about his daughter. At one point I expected Wolfe to walk out on them, but he stuck and let them talk. He had admitted- stated-that it was regrettable that they were being harassed and that they had supplied useful information. Also, of course, they might possibly supply more, but they didn't. I knew they didn't, now that I had caught up.
It was a little past ten o'clock when I returned to the office after seeing them out, and I had made another decision. It would be an hour before he went up to bed, and if he started talking, it would be a job to handle my voice and my face. So instead of sitting I said, "I can catch the last half-hour of a hockey game if I hurry. Unless I'm needed?"
He said no and reached for a book, and I went to the hall and [126] reached for my coat. Outside, the wind was playing around looking for things to slap, and I turned my collar up, walked to the drugstore at the comer of Eighth Avenue, went in and to the phone booth, and dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"This is the president of the National League for Prison Reform. When would it be convenient to give me half an hour to discuss our cause?"
"Have you bathed and shaved?"
"No. I'm Exhibit A."
"All right, come ahead. Use the service entrance."
I got a break. Getting a taxi at that time of night may take anything from a minute to an hour, and here one came as I reached the curb.
Of course it was also a break that Lily was at home with no company. She had been at the piano, probably playing Chopin preludes. That isn't just a guess; I can tell by her eyes and the way she uses her voice. Her voice sounds as if it would like to sing, but she doesn't know it. She told me to go to the den and in a couple of minutes came with a tray-a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
"I put it in the freezer when you phoned," she said, "so it should be about right."
She sat. "How bad was it?"
"Not bad at all. I sat on the cot and shut my eyes and pretended I was in front of the fire at The Glade with you in the kitchen broiling a steak."
I pushed on the cork. "No glass for Mimi?"
"She's gone to a movie. How bad is it?"
"I wish I knew. I think we'll come out alive, but don't ask for odds."
The cork came, and I tilted the bottle and poured. The den has a door to the terrace, and I went and opened it and stood the bottle outside. She said, "To everybody, starting with us," and we touched glasses and drank.
[127] I sat. "Speaking of odds, if florist shops had been open I would have brought a thousand red roses. I gave you a thousand to one that Doraymee wouldn't regret telling you about Benjamin Igoe, and I'm pretty sure it was a bad bet. So I owe you an apology."
"Why will she regret it?"
"I'll tell you someday, I hope soon. I phoned and asked if I could come for three reasons. One, I like to look at you. Two, I had to apologize. Three, I thought you might be willing to answer a question or two about Doraymee."
"She doesn't like to be called that."
"All right, Dora Bassett."
"What kind of a question? Will she regret it if I answer?"
"She might. It's like this. Her husband was murdered. Your favorite waiter was murdered. His daughter was murdered. It's possible that it would help to find out who did it if you would tell me exactly what Dora Bassett said when she asked you about me. That's the question I want to ask. What did she say?"
"I told you. Didn't I?"
"Just if you had seen me since her husband died. And the second time, had I found out who put the bomb in Pierre's coat."
"Well, that was it."
"Do you remember her exact words?"
"You know darned well I don't. I'm not a tape recorder like you."
"Did she mention Nero Wolfe?"
"I think so. I'm not sure."
"Did she mention anyone else? Saul Panzer or Fred Durkin or Orrie Cather?"
"No. She was asking about you. Listen, Escamillo. I don't like this, and you know it. I told you once I don't like to think of you as a private detective, but I realize I wouldn't like to think of you as a stock- [128] broker or a college professor or a truckdriver or a movie actor. I just like to think of you as Archie Goodwin. I like that a lot, and you know it."
She drank champagn
e, emptied her glass. I put down my glass, bent down to take her slipper off-blue silk or something with streaks of gold or something-poured a couple of ounces of champagne in it, lifted it to my mouth, and drank.
"That's how I like you," I said. "Hereafter I would leave my license as a detective at home if I had one. It's been suspended."
[129] 14 When I went to bed and to sleep Tuesday night, I knew I was going to do something in the morning but didn't know what. I only knew that when Wolfe came down, either from the plant rooms at eleven or later for lunch, I wouldn't be there. When I opened my eyes and rolled out Wednesday morning, I knew exactly where I would be at eleven o'clock and what I would be doing. It's very convenient to have a Chairman of the Board who decides things while you sleep. At eleven o'clock I would be in the bedroom of the late Lucile Ducos, determined to find something. There had to be something; otherwise it might take weeks, even months.
I would have liked to go right after breakfast, but it was advisable not to tackle the white apron, now known as Marie Garrou, until she had had time to give Grandpa Ducos his breakfast and get him and his wheelchair to the window in the front room, and at least get a good start on the rest of the daily routine. So as I finished my second cup of coffee I told Fritz I would leave at ten-thirty on a personal errand, and would he please tell Wolfe, who had gone up to the plant rooms, that I wouldn't be there for lunch. He asked if he should answer the phone, and I said sure, we still had our freedom of speech.
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