Rex Stout - The Mother Hunt (Rex Stout Library)

Not knowing if Lucy had another key, I stayed in the kitchen with a couple of magazines after supper, ready to answer the doorbell, but a little after ten o'clock I heard the door open and close and went to the hall to greet her. Needing two hands, or arms, for a satisfactory greeting between detective and client, she let her bag drop to the floor. That accomplished, I picked up the bag.

I know why you're down here, she said. She looked very wholesome in a pale green summer dress and a dark green jacket. A well-tanned skin with a flush is more striking in town than at the beach. She took the bag. You thought I might not be discreet. You are conceited, but I like you anyway. Did you mean what you said on the phone? You and Nero Wolfe are actually hiding?

I explained enough of the situation for her to get the idea, including what Krug and Bingham bad said about Dick being the father of the baby. So, I said, the job you hired Mr. Wolfe for is done. All that's left now is a couple of murders, and if you want to get us out of your house just pick up the phone. The DA would be, glad to send a car for us. It's been nice to know you. If I'm conceited you've helped it along. But first Mr. Wolfe would like to ask you something.

Tell me the truth, Archie. Do you really think I might?

Certainly. You don't owe him anything. As for me, I'm not that conceited. I'm not actually conceited at all. I merely think it's common sense to like myself.

She smiled. Where is he?

One flight up.

Wolfe left his chair when we entered the big room. An uninvited guest can at least be courteous. After exchanging greetings with him she glanced around, probably surprised that the place wasn't a mess with two men loose in it overnight. Then she told Wolfe she hoped he had been comfortable.

He grunted. I have never been more uncomfortable in my life. No reflection on your hospitality is intended; I thank you heartily for the haven; but I'm a hound, not a hare. Mr. Goodwin has described the situation? Chairs, Archie.

I was already moving two of them up, knowing that he would stick there with the roomiest one and the reading light. We sat.

Wolfe regarded her. We're in a pickle. I ask you bluntly, madam, can you be steadfast?

She frowned. If you mean can I hold my tongue, yes, I can. I told Archie yesterday that I would. The police will press you, now that they have connected Carol Mardus with me and therefore with you, and I have decamped. You're my client and I should be shielding you, but instead you're shielding me. And Mr. Goodwin. He can thank you on his own behalf and no doubt will; for myself, I am deeply obliged, and I must ask you to extend the obligation. I need to see Manuel Upton as soon as possible. Will you get him here tomorrow morning?

Why yes, if I can.

Without telling him I'm here. He once told me that if you wanted a favor from him you could ask him. Very well, ask him to come to see you.

And if he comes, what do I say?

Nothing. Just get him in the house. If I can't keep him in with words, Mr. Goodwin can with muscle. Do you like eggs?

She laughed. She looked at me, so I laughed too.

Wolfe scowled. Confound it, are eggs comical? Do you know how to scramble eggs, Mrs. Valdon?

Yes, of course.

To use Mr. Goodwin's favorite locution, one will get you ten that you don't. I'll scramble eggs for your breakfast and we'll see. Tell me forty minutes before you're ready.

Her eyes widened. Forty minutes?

Yes. I knew you didn't know. Manuel Upton came at a quarter to twelve Monday morning.

There had been a few little developments. The client had admitted to Wolfe, in my hearing, that she didn't know how to scramble eggs. I had admitted to him, in her hearing, that the scrambled eggs I had just eaten were fully up to Fritz's very best. He had admitted to her, in my hearing, that forty was more minutes than you could expect a housewife to spend exclusively on scrambling eggs, but he maintained that it was impossible to do it to perfection in less, with each and every particle exquisitely firm, soft, and moist.

The News, which I had to go out for, stated that the late Carol Mardus had once been a bosom friend of the late Richard Valdon, famous novelist, but there was no hint that that was anything more than an interesting item in her record which the public had a right to know.

Saul had come at half past nine as arranged, and had been instructed regarding Anne Tenzer. He had reported that he had phoned Fritz at eight o'clock, and had been told that Homicide dicks were holding down the office day and night, in shifts, by authority of a search warrant, and that one of them was listening in; and Saul had said that he was calling just to say that he had nothing on and was available for an errand if Wolfe had one. He also reported that he had heard from a reliable source which he wouldn't name even to us that a slip of paper with Wolfe's phone number on it had been found in Carol Mardus's apartment. So maybe no one had squawked. Maybe Cramer had merely been going to ask Wolfe if he had ever seen or heard of Carol Mardus, but that would have been enough to light the fuse. Saul was given three-hundred dollars' worth of tens and twenties. Anne Tenzer might be broke and appreciate it.

The reception for Upton was simply staged. Lucy was tending door anyway, since there might possibly be an official caller for her, and she let him in, took him up to the second floor, and led him into the big room. I had moved the roomiest chair over near the couch, and Wolfe was in it. I was standing. Upton entered, saw us, and stopped. He turned to Lucy, but she wasn't there. She had slipped out and was shutting the door, as agreed.

Upton turned back to confront Wolfe. He was such a shrimp that with Wolfe sitting and him standing their eyes were almost at a level. He looked even smaller than I remembered. You fat mountebank, he croaked. He wheeled and started for the door, found me in the way, blocking him, and stopped.

Sorry, I said. Road closed.

He had too much sense to argue with the help when it was obvious that the help would need only one hand. He turned his back on me. This is absurd, he croaked. This is New York, not Montenegro.

So, I thought, he's anti-Montenegro. I didn't say it, merely thought it, so it's not on my record.

Wolfe motioned to a chair. You might as well sit, Mr. Upton. We're going to talk at length. If you mean it's absurd to hold you against your will, not at all. There are three of us to refute any accusation you might make. The handicap of your size precludes violence; Mr. Goodwin could dangle you like a marionette. Sit down.

Upton's jaw was set. I'll talk with Mrs. Valdon.

Perhaps, later. After you have told me all you know about Carol Mardus.

Carol Mardus?

Yes.

I see. I mean I don't see. Why do you. He bit it off. Then: You're here in Lucy Valdon's house. So you're still stringing her along. Have you sold her the idea that Carol Mardus sent her the anonymous letters? Now that she's dead?

There were no anonymous letters.

Upton gawked at him. There was a chair nearer to him than the couch, but he went to the couch and sat. You can't get away with that, he said. Three other men were there when you told us about the anonymous letters.