Chapter 14
They came at ten minutes past one.
Wolfe and I were seated in the two best chairs on the terrace, discussing the character and career of Woodrow Stepanian. With the women gone, and Wade gone, we were as alone as if we had been in the old brownstone on West 35th Street. We hadn't seen Wade go, so he had probably crossed the creek for a try for a car at the ranch, as Wolfe had supposed. We had been very busy. I had put the clothes I had worn in jail out to air, draped on bushes, because there wouldn't be time to have them washed or cleaned. I had done a thorough job on Wade's room, not to get anything on or about him, but to collect and remove everything connected with the book he wasn't going to write. It filled two cartons, which I took to Lily's room. I took a look around her room, and mine, and the big room, to see if anything was missing, but that was just a professional gesture, since he had left on foot in a hurry and needed to travel light. I had phoned Mid-Continent Airlines in Helena to reserve two seats on the morning flight to Denver and a connecting flight to New York. Wolfe had done four things: packed most of his belongings, inspected every shelf and cupboard in the storeroom, but not the freezers, to get ingredients for a real Nero Wolfe trout deal, read a chapter in the book about Indians, and made a casserole of eggs boulangиre for our early lunch. Before joining him on the terrace I had locked the windows and outside doors of the cabin.
It was Haight's black Olds sedan that came down the lane and stopped right in the middle of the clearing. Three men climbed out-Haight, Ed Welch, and a six-foot square-jawed guy in a blue suit that looked as if it had been traveled in, which was to be expected if he had just arrived from St. Louis. All the attention Wolfe and I got was side glances. The stranger came and stood at the edge of the terrace, and Haight and Welch went and pushed the button at the cabin door. Getting no response, they knocked, twice, the second time good and loud. Haight pulled the screen door open and tried the knob of the solid one with no luck. He said something to Welch, and Welch went to the other door, to the hall, and tried that. He returned to Haight, and they both left the terrace at the right end and disappeared around the corner of Lily's room. The stranger turned and approached Wolfe and me, and spoke. 'I'm Sergeant Schwartz of the St. Louis police. I believe you're Nero Wolfe.'
Wolfe nodded. 'I am. And Mr Archie Goodwin. You may as well sit.'
'Thank you very much. It's a pleasure, Mr Goodwin.' But he didn't sit; he stood and looked around at the scenery, and in a couple of minutes the other two appeared, at the left, having circled the house. Haight came and confronted me and demanded, 'Where's Miss Rowan?'
I shook my head. 'I'm out on bail. Standing mute.'
'You goddam punk, where's Wade Worthy?'
I tapped my lips with a fingertip.
Wolfe said, 'I'm articulate, Mr Haight. But I like eyes at a level, so you'll have to sit down if you want to talk.'
'Where's Wade Worthy?'
'Sit down or leave. All of you. This will take a while. Carl Yaeger, alias Wade Worthy, is not on the premises.'
'Where is he?'
'Sit down or go.'
Sergeant Schwartz was moving. He went to a chair facing Wolfe, sat, and asked politely, 'Where is Carl Yaeger, Mr Wolfe?'
'I don't know. I should mention that we were expecting you, Mr Schwartz. I assume you have met Mr Saul Panzer, whom I sent to St. Louis. Having spoken with him on the telephone late last evening, I knew you were coming.'
Schwartz nodded. 'I knew you knew. You don't know where Carl Yaeger is?'
'No.'
'When did you see him last?'
'About four-' Wolfe stopped because of the noise made by the chairs Haight and Welch were shoving. When they were in them he said, 'About four hours ago. But it-'
'Is he in the cabin?' Haight demanded.
'No. I said-'
'Why are the doors locked with you sitting out here?'
'To keep you from entering. There is no one inside. The keys are in Mr Goodwin's pocket. We preferred not to let you invade Miss Rowan's house in her absence. I have important information for you, Mr Haight, about Wade Worthy, but I'll supply it only in proper sequence without interruptions. If you won't take it that way you won't get it.'
'The information I want, I want to know where he is.'
'I'll get to that. But I'll start at the beginning. Nineteen days ago, in the morning of Thursday, July twenty-fifth, Philip Brodell went-'
'To hell with Philip Brodell! I want-'
'Shut up.'
You would have to hear that particular tone of Wolfe's to appreciate it. I don't know how he does it. It wasn't anything like as loud as Haight's bark, but it cut through and stopped him.
'You'll hear this as I choose to tell it,' Wolfe said, 'or not at all. That Thursday morning Philip Brodell went for a walk, alone, for a look at Berry Creek-as he told Sam Peacock. Reaching the creek, he continued
