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Before Midnight by Rex Stout

“It’s absurd on the face of it,” Hansen said. “It would—”

“Let me finish. Therefore Mr. Wolfe has a double reason not to keep you posted on every move-first, he never does with anybody, and second, one of you could be holding out on him and set to spike him. I don’t think he thinks you are, but it’s a cinch he wouldn’t take that chance. There’s no use trying to persuade me it’s absurd, because Mr. Wolfe is the expert on absurdity, not me, and I wouldn’t undertake to pass it on. That about covers the situation, except this, that he’s fed up with your shoving. I had to disturb him to tell him about the performance you have put on this afternoon because I had to ask him if he wanted me to come up here, and I am now reporting that he is fed up. He is willing to go on with the job only with the understanding that what he is committed to get for you is results as they were outlined, as quickly and satisfactorily as possible, using his best ability and judgment. If you want him to continue on that basis, okay. If not, he might be willing to take on the job for Mr. Heery, but I doubt it, without the consent and approval of LBA, because you’re all in it together.”

“What then?” Hansen asked, colder than ever. “He has dismissed me as his attorney. What would he do?”

“1 don’t know, but I can give you a guess, and I know him fairly well. I think he would give Inspector Cramer the whole story as he knows it, including whatever he may have learned since he talked with you people, and forget it.”

“Let him!” O’Garro barked. “To hell with him!’:

Buflf said, “Take it easy, Pat.”

“I think we’re overlooking something,” Assa said. “We’ve let our personal feelings get involved, and that’s wrong. The one thing we all want is to save the contest, and what we’ve got to ask ourselves is whether we’re more likely to do that with Wolfe or without him. Let me ask you this, Goodwin. I agree with Mr. Hansen that Inspector Cramer’s idea is absurd, but just suppose that Wolfe did find evidence, or thought he did, that one of us went to Dahlmann’s apartment and found him dead and took the wallet. Whom would he report it to?”

“That would depend. If LBA was still his client, to LBA. He was hired—these were Hansen’s words—to find out who took the wallet and got the paper. If he did what he was hired to do, or thought he had, naturally he would tell his client and no one else. There would be two offenses involved, swiping a wallet and failing to report discovery of a dead body, but that wouldn’t bother him. But he couldn’t report to a client if he no longer had one, and my guess is he would just empty the bag for Cramer.”

“That,” Hansen said, “is an unmistakable threat.”

“Is it?” I grinned at him. “That’s bad. I thought I was just answering a question. I withdraw it.”

Talbott Heery, across the mahogany top from me, suddenly was up and on his feet, in all his height and breadth, glaring around with no favorites. “If I ever saw a bunch of lightweights,” he told them, “this is it. You know goddam well Nero Wolfe is our only hope of getting out of this without losing most of our hide, and listen to you!” He put two fists on the table. “I’ll tell you this right now: at the end of the contract you’re done with Heery Products! If I had had any sense—”

“Tape it, Tal.” O’Garro’s voice was raised, with a sneer in it. “Go downstairs and tape it! We’ll get along without you and without Nero Wolfe too! I don’t—”

The others joined in and they were boiling again. I was perfectly willing to sit and watch the bubbles, but Oliver Buff arose and took my sleeve and practically pulled me to my feet, and was steering me to the door. His teeth were set on his lower lip, but had to release it for speech. “If you’ll wait outside,” he said, pushing me into the hall. “We’ll send for you.” He shut the door.

Outside could have meant right there, but eavesdropping is vulgar if you can’t distinguish words, and I soon found that I couldn’t, so I moseyed down the wide carpeted hall and on through into the reception room. A couple of the upholstered chairs had customers, but not the same ones as when I had arrived. When I lingered instead of pushing the elevator button the aristocratic brunette at the desk gave me a look, and, not wanting her to worry, I went and told her the evidence was all in and I was waiting for the verdict. She had a notion to give me a smile—I was wearing a dark brown pin-stripe that was a good fit, with a solid tan shirt and a soft wool medium-brown tie—but decided it would be better to wait until we heard the verdict. I decided she was too cagey for one of my temperament, and crossed the rugs over to a battery of large cabinets with glass fronts that covered all of a wall and part of two others. They were filled with an assortment of objects of all sizes, shapes, colors, and materials.

Being a detective, I soon detected what they were: samples of the products of LBA clients, past and present. I thought it was very democratic to have them here in the executive reception room instead of down on a lower floor with the riffraff. Altogether there must have been several thousand different items, from spark plugs to ocean liners to paper drinking cups to pharmaceuticals-though in the case of the liners and trucks and refrigerators, and other bulky items, they had settled for photographs instead of the real thing. There was an elegant little model of a completely equipped super-modern kitchen, about eighteen inches long, that I would have taken home for a doll’s house, if I had had a wife and we had had a child and the child had been a girl and the girl had liked dolls. I was having a second look at the Heery Products section, which alone had over a hundred specimens, and was trying to decide what I thought of yellow for packaging, when the brunette called my name and I turned.

“You may go in,” she said, and darned if the smile didn’t nearly break through. Of course she had had plenty of time to inspect me from behind, and I never had a suit that fitted better. I repaid her with a friendly glance that spoke volumes as I stepped to the door to the inner hall.

In the executive committee room, I suppose it was, I couldn’t tell from their expressions who or what had won. Certainly nobody looked happy or even hopeful. Heery was at a window with his back to us, which I thought was tactful since technically he was not a party. The others eyed me without love as I approached the big table.

Hansen spoke. “We have decided to have Nero Wolfe continue with the case, using his best ability and judgment as you stated, without prejudice to any of our rights and privileges. Including the right to be informed on matters affecting our interests, but leaving that to his discretion for the present.”

I had my notebook out and was jotting it down. That done, I asked, “Unanimous? Mr. Wolfe will want to know. Do you concur, Mr. Buff?” “Yes,” he said firmly. “Mr. Assa?” “Yes,” he said wearily. “Mr. O’Garro?” “Yes,” he said rudely.

“Good.” I returned the notebook to my pocket. “Ill do my best to persuade Mr. Wolfe to carry on, and if you don’t hear from me within an hour you’ll know it’s okay. I’d like to add one little point: as his confidential assistant I’m in it too somewhat, and it interferes with my chores to spend half my time answering your phone calls, so I personally request you to keep your shirts on.”

I turned to go, but Buff caught my sleeve. “You understand, Goodwin, that the time element is vital. Only five days. And we hope Wolfe understands it.”

“Sure he does. Before midnight Wednesday. That’s why he can’t bear to be disturbed.”

I left them to their misery. Passing through the reception room I paused to tell the brunette, “Guilty on all counts. See you up the river.” It was a shock for her.

Chapter 14

The next two days, Saturday and Sunday, I found that my personal request had been a mistake. Thursday and Friday had been bad enough, but at least their phone calls had given me something to do now and then, and with them muzzled, or nearly so, my patience got a tougher test than ever. You might think that after putting up with Wolfe for so long I would be acclimatized, and I am up to a point, but he keeps breaking records. After I reported to him in full on my session at LBA, including a description of the premises, there was practically no mention of the case for more than sixty hours. By Monday morning I was willing to believe he had really meant it when he said it would be more feasible after the deadline, and I had to admit that at least it was an original idea to use a deadline for a starting barrier.

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Categories: Stout, Rex
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