The Black Mountain Rex Stout Series: Nero Wolfe [23] Published: 1998 Tags: Vintage Mystery
Vintage Mysteryttt
SUMMARY:
Enraged by the cold-blooded killing of his closest friend, Nero Wolfe leaves not only his home, but his country as well. In an exotic land where his life depends on a false passport, a knapsack filled with chocolate bars, and a razor-sharp knife, the great man faces the most dangerous adventure of his career.
SUMMARY:
Enraged by the cold-blooded killing of his closest friend, Nero Wolfe leaves not only his home, but his country as well. In an exotic land where his life depends on a false passport, a knapsack filled with chocolate bars, and a razor-sharp knife, the great man faces the most dangerous adventure of his career.
The Black MountainRex StoutSeries: Nero Wolfe [23] Published: 1998 Tags: Vintage Mystery
Vintage Mysteryttt
SUMMARY:
Enraged by the cold-blooded killing of his closest friend, Nero Wolfe leaves not only his home, but his country as well. In an exotic land where his life depends on a false passport, a knapsack filled with chocolate bars, and a razor-sharp knife, the great man faces the most dangerous adventure of his career.
SUMMARY:
Enraged by the cold-blooded killing of his closest friend, Nero Wolfe leaves not only his home, but his country as well. In an exotic land where his life depends on a false passport, a knapsack filled with chocolate bars, and a razor-sharp knife, the great man faces the most dangerous adventure of his career.
THE BLACK MOUNTAIN REX STOUT Thorndike Press ? Chivers Press Thorndike, Maine USA Bath, England This Large Print edition is published by Thomdike Press, USA and by Chivers Press, England. Published in 1998 in the U.S. by arrangement with Rebecca Stout Bradbury. Published in 1998 in the U.K. by arrangement with Rebecca Stout Bradbury. U.S. Hardcover 0-7862-1569-0 (Thomdike Mystery Series Edition) U.K. Hardcover 0-7540-3511-5 (Chivers Large Print) U.K-Softcover 0-7540-3512-3 (Camden Large Print) Copyright ? 1954, by Rex Stout All rights reserved. The text of this Large Print edition is unabridged. Other aspects of the book may vary from the original edition. Set in 16 pi. Plantin by Rick Gundberg. Printed in the United States on permanent paper. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data available Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Stout, Rex, 18861975. The black mountain / Rex Stout. p. cm. ISBN 0-7862-1569-0 (Ig. print : he : alk. paper) 1. Wolfe, Nero (Fictitious character) -- Fiction. 2. Private investigators -- New York (State) -- New York -- Fiction. I. Title. [PS3537.T733B53 1998] 813'.52--dc21 9828860 Warning In a way this is a phony. A lot of the talk I report was in languages I am not on speaking terms with, so even with the training I've had there is no use pretending that here it is, word for word. But this is what happened, since I had to know what was going on to earn my keep, Nero Wolfe put it in English for me every chance he got. For the times when it had to be on the fly, and pretty sketchy, I have filled it in as well as I could. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to tell it at all, but I hated to skip it. Archie Goodwill Chapter 1 That was the one and only time Nero Wolfe had ever seen the inside of the morgue. That Thursday evening in March I barely caught the phone call. With a ticket for a basketball game at the Garden in my pocket, I had dined in the kitchen, because I would have to leave the house at ten to eight, and Wolfe refuses to sit at table with one who has to pack it in and run. And that time I couldn't eat early because Fritz was braising a wild turkey and had to convey it to the dining room on a platter for Wolfe to see whole before wielding the knife. Sometimes when I have a date for a game or a show I get things from the refrigerator around sixthirty and take my time, but I wanted some of that hot turkey, not to mention Fritz's celery sauce and corn fritters. I was six minutes behind schedule when, as I pushed my chair back and got erect, the phone rang. After asking Fritz to get it 7 on the kitchen extension and proceeding to the hall, I ha<i got my topcoat from the rack and ^as putting it on when Fritz called to me ''Archie! Sergeant Stebbins wants you!' I rnuttered something appropriate for muttering but not for printing, made it to the office and across to my desk, lifted the receiver, and told it, 'Shoot. You may have eight seconds,' It took more like eight times eighty, not because Purley Stebbins insisted on it, but I did after he had given me the main fact. When I had hung up I stood a while, frowning at White's desk. Many times through the years I have had the job of reporting something to Wolfe that I knew he wouldn't enjoy hearing, but this was different. This was tough. I even found myself wishing I had got away two minutes sooner, and then, realizing that that would have been tougher _ for him, at least -- I went to the hall, crossed it to the dining room, entered and spoke. 'That was Purley Stebbins. Half an hour ago a Hian came out of a house on East Fifty-fourth Street and was shot and killed by a man waiting there in a parked car. Papers found ---' Wolfe cut me off. 'Must I remind you that business shall not intrude on meals?' 8 'You don't need to. This isn't business. Papers found on the body indicate that it was Marko Vukcic. Purley says there's no doubt about it, two of the dicks knew him by sight, but he wants me to come down and give positive identification. If you have no objection I'm going. It won't be as pleasant a way to spend an evening as going to a ball game, but I'm sure he would have done as much ...' I would have preferred to go on talking, but had to stop to clear my throat. Wolfe had put down his knife and fork, quietly and properly, on his plate. His eyes were leveled at me, but he wasn't scowling. A corner of his mouth twitched, and after a moment twitched again. To stop it he compressed his lips. He nodded at me. 'Go. Phone.' 'Have you any --' 'No. Phone.' I whirled and went. After going a block south on Tenth Avenue and nagging a taxi on Thirty-fourth Street, it didn't take long to roll crosstown to the city mortuary on East Twenty-ninth, and, since I was not a stranger there and was expected, I was passed through the railing and on in with no questions asked. I have never cared for the smell of that place. 9 An assistant medical examiner named Faber tried once to sell me the idea that it smells just like a hospital, but I have a good nose and I didn't buy. He claimed that there are rarely more than one or two cadavers on the premises not in the coolers, and I said in that case someone must spray the joint with something to make it smell like a morgue. The Homicide dick who escorted me down the corridor was one I knew only well enough to nod to, and the assistant ME in the room we entered was one I hadn't run across before. He was working on an object that was stretched out on a long table under a strong light, with a helper standing by. The dick and I stood and watched a minute. A detailed description of the performance would help only if you expect to be faced with the job of probing a corpse for a bullet that entered at an angle between the fifth and sixth ribs, so I won't go into it. 'Well?' the dick demanded. 'Yes,' I told him. 'I identify it as the body of Marko Vukcic, owner of Rusterman's Restaurant. If you want that signed, get it ready while I go use the phone.' I went out and down the corridor to the phone booth and dialed a number. Ordinarily when I am out of the house and phone 10 in Fritz will
