Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe 01 - Fer-de-Lance

"He needn’t bother. I’ll never do enough to make Nero Wolfe owe me any thanks."

I went back to the car and turned it around and started back down the drive. I had the spot picked out, about halfway down, a full three hundred yards from the public road, where high shrubbery was on both sides with trees just beyond and it would be good and dark. There the drive was narrow enough so that I could block it with the sedan without bothering to swing it crosswise.

I got the sedan into position and turned off the lights and we all got out. It was nearly ten o’clock and our prey was due at a quarter past. I passed around the guns and gave Orrie the knife, and then handed out the masks and we put them on. We were a hard-looking bunch and I couldn’t help grinning at Orrie’s wisecracks, though to tell the truth I was pretty much keyed-up. The thing had to go absolutely right. I went over it again with them. They had it pat, and we scattered into the bushes. It was plenty dark. They began calling back and forth to one another, and pretty soon I told them to shut up so I could listen.

After a couple of minutes the sound came up from below of Wolfe’s sedan going into second on the grade. I couldn’t see the lights on account of the bushes, but soon I did. They got brighter, and then I saw the car. It buzzed along, getting close, and when the driver saw my sedan right ahead it slowed down. I left the bushes on a run, jumped to the running board of Wolfe’s sedan just as it came to a stop, and shoved my gun into the face of Saul Panzer in the driver’s seat.

The others were with me. Bill Gore was on my side, on the running board, sticking his gun through the open window; One, with Durkin behind him, was opening the other tonneau door. Maria Maffei was screaming. There was no sound from Anna.

Orrie said, "Get out of there quick. Come on, do you want me to put a hole in you?"

Anna came out and stood on the ground by the running board. Bill Gore went in and got Maria Maffei and hauled her out. Orrie growled, "Shut your trap, you." He called to me, "If that driver grunts let him have it. Put out the lights."

Bill Gore said, "I’ve got her purse, it’s fat."

"Which one?"

"This one."

"All right, keep it, and keep her trap shut. If she yells rap her one." Orrie turned to Durkin. "Here, hold this one while I put a light on her."

Durkin moved behind Anna and gripped her arms, and Orrie put a flashlight on her face. She looked pale and her lips were clamped tight; she hadn’t let out a chirp. Ornie held his light right against her and his masked face was just behind it. He said, "It’s you all right. By God, I’ve got you. So you will tell people about Carlo Maffei cutting out newspaper clippings and talking on the phone and everything you ought to forget. Will you? You won’t any more. The knife that was good enough for Carlo Maffei is good enough for you. Tell him hello for me."

He pulled out the long sticker and waved it and it gleamed in the light of the flash. He was too damn good. Maria Maffei yelled and jumped for him and nearly got away from Bill Gore. Bill, who weighed two hundred and no fat, got all around her. Durkin was pulling Anna Fiore back away from the knife and saying to Orrie, "None of that! Cut it! You said you wouldn’t. None of that!"

Orrie stopped waving the knife and put the light on Anna again.

"All right." He made it sound bloodthirsty. "Where’s your purse? I’ll get you later. Come on, don’t stand there shaking your head. Where’s your purse? Where’s that hundred dollars I sent you? No?--Hold her, I’ll frisk her for it."

He started for her stocking, and Anna was a wildcat. She busted loose from Durkin and let out a squawk that must have reached to White Plains. Orrie grabbed for her and tore her sleeve half off; Durkin was on her again, and when she saw she couldn’t get away she put on a kicking and biting exhibition that made me glad I was leaving that to the help. Durkin finally got her snug, with an arm wrapped around her pinning her arms and his other hand holding her head back, but Orrie never did get his hand inside her stocking, he had to tear it right off. I saw the getaway would have to be quick or we’d have to tie her up, so I had Saul back his car along the edge of the drive so I could get by with mine. Durkin came carrying Anna Fiore, still kicking and trying to bite him, and shoved her into the tonneau; Orrie was with him, growling at her, "You kept my money, did you? You wouldn’t burn it, huh? Next time you’ll keep your mouth shut."

I ran to the Buick and started the engine and rolled alongside. The others piled in. As we started off Maria Maffei was yelling at us, but I didn’t hear Anna's voice. I twisted around the curves of the drive as fast as was practicable, and as soon as I had turned into the public road I stepped on it.

Bill Gore in the back seat was laughing about ready to choke. I got to the Sawmill River Road and turned south, and eased down to forty. Orrie, beside me, wasn’t saying anything. I asked him: "You got the money?"

"Yeah, I got it." He didn’t sound very sweet. "I think I’ll keep it until I find out if Nero Wolfe carries workmen’s compensation insurance."

"Why, did she get you?"

"She bit me twice. That lassie didn’t think any more of that hundred bucks than I do of my right eye. If you’d told me I had to subdue a tiger with my bare hands I’d have remembered I had a date."

Bill Gore started laughing again.

I thought it had been pretty well staged. Wolfe couldn’t ask better than that. The only thing I had been afraid of was that Anna would get such a scare thrown into her that she would fold up for good, but now that didn’t seem likely. I was glad Wolfe had thought of using Maria Maffei and she had been ready for the job, for I wouldn’t have cared a bit about driving Anna Fiore back to town with her empty sock. The only question now was, what did she have and how soon would we get it? Would Wolfe’s program carry through to the end as he had outlined it, and if it did what kind of a climax would she hand us?

Anyhow, my next move was to get back to the office without delay, so I didn’t take time to distribute my passengers where they belonged. I dropped Bill Gore off at 19th Street and took Durkin and Orrie on uptown and left them at the Times Square subway station. Since it wouldn’t do to leave the Buick out in front, I drove to the garage and delivered it, and walked home.

I hadn’t cared much for the notion Manuel Kimball had got about the sort of present that would be appropriate for Nero Wolfe, and on leaving I had told Fritz to put the bolt on as soon as we got out, so now I had to ring him up to let me in. It was nearly midnight, but he came to the first ring.

Wolfe was in the office, eating cookies and marking items in Hoehn’s catalog. I went in and stood, waiting for him to look up. He did so at length, and said, "On time."

I nodded. "And not on my shield, but Orrie Cather is, nearly. She bit him. She bit Durkin too. She was a holy terror. Your play went off swell. They ought to be here soon; I’m going up and dress for the next act. Can I have a glass of milk?"

Wolfe said, "Good," and turned back to his catalog.

I took the milk upstairs with me to my room, and sipped it in between while I was getting undressed and putting on my pajamas. This part of the stunt seemed to me pretty fussy, but I didn’t mind because it gave me a chance to doll up in the dressing gown Wolfe had given me a couple of years before which I hadn’t had on more than about once. I lit a cigarette and finished the milk, then put on the dressing gown and gave it the once over in the mirror. While I was doing that I heard a car drive up and stop outside, and I moved closer to the open window and heard Saul Panzer’s voice, and then Maria Maffei’s. I sat down and lit another cigarette.