courthouse, he asked me, “Am I to know where Wolfe is?
“I doubt it. He told me not to look for him.
“I see.
His tone of voice irritated me. “Every word you heard me say in there, I asserted, “was the truth. I haven't the thinnest idea where he is or what he's doing.
He shrugged. “I'm not complaining. I only hope he hasn't tumbled in where it's too deep this time- and you too.
“Go to hell, I advised him, and marched off. I couldn't really blame the
Westchester bunch, but Parker should have known me well enough to tell which side of my mouth I was talking out of. It's damn' discouraging, when you do tell the truth, not to have it recognised.
Also discouraging was the welcome I got on entering Wolfe's house that evening.
It was in the form of a note stuck in the corner of my desk blotter, unfolded.
Dear Archie-
I am sorry you are in jail and hope it will not last long. Mr Vukcic has been to see me and I am leaving now to go to work for him $1500. There has been no word from Mr Wolfe. God grant he is safe and well and I think you should find him no matter what he wrote. I threw out the jar of sardines and stopped the milk. My very best regards and wishes,
Fritz
1.35p.m.
I was pleased to observe that he struck to routine to the end, putting the time down. Also it was nice of him to end his note to me the same as Wolfe had ended his. Nevertheless, it was a discouraging welcome home after a night in the hoosegow. And there had been a period of more than five hours when any phone calls that might have come would not have been answered, something that had never happened before in all the years I had worked and lived there. Unless
Theodore…
I beat it to the stairs and up the three flights, and entered the plant rooms.
One step inside the first room, the warm one, I stopped and surveyed. It was more of a shock, somehow, than it had been a year ago when it had been used as a target for tommy-guns from across the street. Then they had at least left a mess; now there was nothing but the benches and stands. It really got me for a minute. I moved on through: medium room, cool room, potting room, spray chamber,
Theodore's room-all empty. Hewitt must have sent an army to clean all that out in one day,I thought, heading back downstairs.
In the kitchen was another longer note from Fritz, reporting phone calls that had come before he left and various minor matters. I opened the refrigerator and poked around, and settled for a jar of home-made pate, a hunk of Italian bread,
Vermont cheese, and milk. As I sat working at it with an evening paper propped up before me, I kept listening for something-nothing in particular, just something. That had never been a noisy house, but I had never known it anything like that quiet. Almost no cars went by, and the few that did must have been coasting in neutral.
My meal finished and things put away, I wandered into the dining-room, office, front room, down to the basement to Fritz's room, up one flight to Wolfe's room, up another to my room. As I undressed for my post- jail bath, I thought that the hell of it wasn't how I felt, but that I didn't know how to feel. If I had actually seen the last of Nero Wolfe, it was a damn' sad day for me, there were no two ways about that, and if I got a lump in my throat and somebody walked in
I would just as soon show him the lump as not. But what if it was Wolfe himself who walked in? That was the trouble. Damned if I was going to work up a fancy lump and then have him suddenly appear and start crabbing about something.
After I had bathed and shaved and got into clean pyjamas, and answered a couple of phone calls from journalists, and moseyed down to the office and fooled around a while, someone did walk in. When I heard the front door open I made for the hall as if I had been expecting another package of sausage, and there was
Fritz. He turned from closing the door, saw me, and beamed.
“Ah! Archie! You escaped? '
“I'm out on bail. He seemed to want to shake hands, and I was willing. “Thanks for your note. How's the new job?
“Terrible. I'm played up. Mr Wolfe?
“I know nothing about Mr Wolfe. I ate half a jar of pate.
He stopped beaming. “Mr Vukcic is going to sell this house.
“He's going to offer it for sale, which is not the same thing.
“Perhaps not. He sighed. “I'm tired. Mr Vukcic said there is no reason why I should not sleep here but I should ask you. It would be good for me-I am so used to that room…
“Certainly. I'm used to mine too. I'm going to sleep here until further notice.
“Good. He started for the kitchen, stopped, and turned. “Are you going to look for him?
“No! Hearing myself shout, it seemed a relief and I did it again. “I am not! I went to the stairs and started up. “Good night.
