Rex Stout - Some Buried Caesar

"No telling. In time to spend Christmas at home, I hope. How are dad and ma and Oscar and Violet and Arthur-" "Fine. Is it cosy?"

"Marvelous."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Plenty. There's a caterer."

"Have you got money?"

"Sure, how much do you want?"

She shook her head. "No, really. I'm flush." She opened her bag.

I reached and shut it. "No, you don't. Jimmy Pratt gave me 10 dollars today and that's partly why I'm here. Money is the root of all evil. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Why, Escamillo. I came to see you."

"I'm aware of that. Did you bring any bedding?"

"No, but I can get some. Do you want some?"

"No, thanks. I was just curious. I have plenty of newspaper. But would you like to do me a favor?"

"I won't sleep if I can't do you a favor."

"Will you be up at midnight?"

"I can stay up."

"Do so. At midnight get Osgood's on the phone and ask to speak to Mr. Nero Wolfe. Tell him you're Mrs. Titus Good- win and that you are at the Crowfield Hotel, having just come in an airplane from Cleveland, Ohio. Tell him that you got a telegram from your son Archie saying that he is in jail, stranded and abandoned and in despair. Tell him you want to know what the hell he had me put in jail for and you'll have the law on him, and you'll expect to see him first thing in the morning and he must be prepared to rectify his ghastly mistake without delay. And atone for it. Tell him he'll have to atone for it." I considered. "I guess that will do."

She nodded. "I've got it. Is any of it straight?"

"No, it's firecrackers."

"Then why don't I rout him out tonight? Make him come to the hotel right away and look for me. I mean at mid- night."

"My God, no. He'd kill me. That will be sufficient. You follow instructions."

"I will. Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Kiss me."

"I can't until I wash my face. Anyway, I told you that wasn't a precedent. I have to be careful. I kissed a girl once in the subway and when she came to she was on top of the Empire State Building. She had floated out through a grating and right on up."

"Goodness. Did you ever send one clear to heaven?"

"The place is full of them."

"When are you going to get out of here?"

"I don't know. You might ask Wolfe on the phone tonight."

"Well." She looked at me, and I was reminded how she had peeled me like a potato in the Methodist tent. "What I really came for. 'Any bail, any amount, I could have it ar- ranged for by 11 o'clock in the morning. Shall I?"

"I might come high."

"I said any amount."

"I wouldn't bother. It would make Wolfe jealous. Thanks just the same."

The keeper's hoarse voice sounded:

"After 9 o'clock, chief. What about the lights?"

I got up and told him, "Okay, I'll help you. Good night, sis."

18

AT 9 O'CLOCK Thursday morning Basil sat on the edge of his cot brushing his hair. I sat on the edge of mine, with the newspapers still on it but a good deal the worse for wear, scratching my shoulder and my thigh and my right side and my left arm, with my forehead wrinkled in con- centration, trying to remember the title of a book on prison reform which I had observed on Wolfe's library shelves at home but had never bothered to look at. It was a shame I hadn't read it because if I had I would have been much bet- ter prepared for a project which I had already got a pretty good start on. The idea of the project had occurred to me during breakfast for which meal I had limited myself to the common fare of my fellows for the sake of the experience, and I had got the start during the fifteen minutes from 8:30 to 8:45, when we had all been in the corridor together for what was called morning exercise, with a keeper and an ostentatious gun stationed at the open end.

Basil asked, "How many have we got?"

I told him four signed up and three more practically cer- tain. I gave up trying to remember the name of the book and took my memo pad from my pocket and looked over the sheets I had written on:

For the Warden, the District Attorney, the At- torney-General, the State Legislature, and the Governor.

MINIMUM BASIC DEMANDS OF THE CROWFIELD COUNTY PRISONERS UNION

1. Recognition of the C.C.P.U.

2. The closed shop.

3. Collective bargaining on all controversial matters ex- cept date of release and possession by our members of objects which could be used for attack or escape.

4. No lockouts.

5. Food. (Food may be defined as nutritive material ab- sorbed or taken into the body of an organism which serves for purposes of growth, work or repair, and for the main- tenance of the vital processes.) We don't get any.

6. Running water in all cells.

7. Abolition of all animals smaller than rabbits.

8. Cell buckets of first grade enamel with good lids.

9. Daily inspection of bedding by a committee of public- spirited citizens, with one member a woman.

10. Adequate supply of checkers and dominoes.

11. Soap which is free of Essence of Nettles, or what- ever it is that it now contains.

12. Appointment by our President of a Committee on Bathing, with power to enforce decisions.

Signed this 15th day of September, 1938.

ARCHIE GOODWIN, President. BASIL GRAHAM, Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer.

Four other signatures followed.

I looked up with a dissatisfied frown. It was all right for a start, but there were 21 people inhabiting that corridor by actual count. I said in a resolute tone, "It has to be 100 per cent before nightfall. The fact is, Basil, you may be all right as Vice-President and/or Secretary and/or Treasurer, but you're no damn good as an agitator. You didn't get anybody."

He put the brush down. "Well," he said, "you made 3 mistakes. Demand number 9 will have to be amended by striking out the last five words. They simply don't like the idea of a woman poking around the cells. Demand number 12 is bad in toto. Even when he's out of jail a man resents having his personal liberties interfered with, and when he's in jail the feeling is greatly intensified. But worst of all was your offering them a dime apiece to join. That made them suspicious and we're going to have a hard time overcoming it."

"I don't see you making any strenuous effort."

"Is that so. I could make a suggestion right now. Are you game to step it up to two bits per capita?"

"But you said-"

"Never mind what I said. Are you?"

"Well…" I figured it. "Three seventy-five. Yes."

"But you wouldn't play spoon-bean, a game of skill. It's a funny world." He arose and approached. "Give me that ultimatum." I tore off the sheet and handed it to him and he went to the door and tapped on a bar with his fingernail, 3 and 2. In a minute the skinny one with the Adam's apple ap- peared and Basil began talking to him in a low tone. I got up and sauntered over to listen.