At four o'clock, when he left to go up to the plant rooms for his two-hour afternoon session with the or- chids, I got busy at the typewriter. On various occa- sions I have had a little trouble turning out perfect letters to orchid collectors and providers of food spe- cialties when my mind had other interests and con- cerns, and that day was one of the worst. Cramer had left at 3:20. He would lose no time getting the bullet to the laboratory; they probably had it by 3:50, or four o'clock at the latest. Examining two bullets with a comparison microscope is a simple chore; ten minutes is ample to decide if they were fired by the same gun. 4:10. Allow a quarter of an hour for writing the report, which wouldn't have to be in shape for a judge and jury. 4:25. Cramer would have a man there waiting for it. He should phone by 4:30, or ring the doorbell by 4:45. He didn't.
By 5:151 had to keep my jaw set to hit the right keys. If you think I was keyed up more than the circum- stances warranted, look it over. If the bullets matched I was a sap. It was a million to one that the murderer hadn't sneaked into the house to put the gun back in the drawer in Hazen's room; why would he? Murderers often do crazy things, but not that crazy. Therefore Mrs. Hazen had lied, and she had either killed him or knew who did, and I was a beetlehead. I had to do three of the letters twice.
By six o'clock, when Wolfe came down from the plant rooms, I had begun to relax. He went to his desk and started on the letters I had put there, which he always reads with care. After he had finished a couple and signed them I remarked, 'Of course Cramer wouldn't bother to phone if the bullets didn't match.'
He grunted.
'And the laboratory got it more than two hours ago, so we might as well-'
The doorbell rang, and the bottom of my spine curled. Cramer had waited until six o'clock, when he knew Wolfe would be available. I went to the hall and switched the stoop light on, and my spine went back to normal. It was a stranger, a man about my age, maybe a little younger, with no hat and a mop of brown hair shuffled by the wind. I had never been so delighted to see a stranger, but had it under control by the time I got to the door and opened it and said, 'Yes, sir?'
'I want to see Nero Wolfe. My name's Weed, Theodore Weed.'
I should have had him wait there while I went and told Wolfe, that was the routine, but I was so glad to see him that I invited him in and helped him off with his coat. Then I went to the office and announced, 'The- odore Weed to see you. One of the dinner guests. The one who-' 'What does he want?'
He knew damn well I hadn't had time to ask what he wanted. I said, 'You.'
'No. I've been pestered enough on a matter in which I have no interest. Tell him so and don't-'
Weed was there. He crossed to the red leather chair, plumped into it as if he owned it, and said, 'I'm not going to pester you. I'm going to hire you.'
Wolfe glared at me. I had let a man in without con- sulting him; he would have something to say about that when we were alone. Weed was going on. 'I know you come high, but I pay my bills. Do you want a retainer?'
Wolfe had transferred the glare to him. 'No. You not only intrude, you presume. Archie, show him the door.'
'Now wait a minute. I'm not very…' He let it hang and started to work his jaw. He had plenty of jaw, a little bony but not out of proportion. He got it under control. 'All right, I started wrong. I'll try again. Mrs. Barry Hazen came to see you this morning and left a gun with you. Where is it?'
'Intrusion and presumption,' Wolfe said, 'and now effrontery. I must insist-'
'Damn it, I know she did! She told me so! She was here when she heard about it, that they had found his body! And she wanted to hire you, she wanted to give you a check, and you wouldn't take it!' He paused to control his jaw. 'So I want to hire you, and I'll pay your bill. I just left the District Attorney's office and she's still there. They wouldn't let me see her, but she's there and they're going to charge her with murder. I can't see why it's presumption for me to want to hire you- you're in the detective business and my money is as good as anybody's. All right, I got ahead of myself asking you about the gun, but when I'm your client there's no reason why you shouldn't tell me where it is.' He stuck a hand in his pocket and brought out a wad of bills, not a thick one, and unfolded it.
I was trying to decide. Either he thought that Lucy Hazen had killed her husband, and was being ehival- rous, or he didn't think she had but was selling Wolfe the idea that he did think so. Whichever it was, he was willing to spend money on it, for he got up from his chair to put the bills on Wolfe's desk.
As Wolfe started to speak the phone rang, and I turned and got it. It was Lucy Hazen. She asked for Wolfe, and I told her to hold it and turned to him. 'The woman that brought the sausage this morning wants to know if it will do. If you want to ask Fritz you can talk on the kitchen extension.'
He got up and went, and I held on. In a moment his voice was in my ear. 'This is Nero Wolfe. Mrs. Hazen?'
'Yes. You said this morning that if I need your ser- vices you would see.' Her voice was shaky. 'I do need them. I'm going to be arrested, and I-'
'Where are you?'
'At the District Attorney's. I don't know any-'
'Say only what you must say on the telephone.'
'I'm in a booth with the door closed.'
'Pfui. It is probably not only heard but also recorded. Say only what you must.'
'All right.' A little pause. 'He said I could phone a lawyer, and I don't know any except my husband's, and I don't want him. Will you get one for me?'
'I'll send one to you. After speaking with him you can decide whether to engage him.'
'I will. Of course. But I want to engage you too. You said you would if I needed you.'
'I said I would see.' A pause, longer than hers. If he committed himself he would have to work, and he would rather eat than work. 'Very well.' He growled it. 'I am engaged. One question: have you disclosed any of
