Bring me a cheque for five thousand dollars at your convenience. I am stealing it from my old friend Nero to spend on beautiful women or olive oil.
So I was not entirely correct when I said that I got no word at all from Wolfe during those weeks and months, but you must admit it was pretty vague. How far a man gets on five grand, and where he goes, depends on so many things.
When I returned to the office from a morning walk on the third day of May, a
Wednesday, and called the phone-answering service as usual, I was told there had been three calls but only one message-to ring a Mount Kisco number and ask for
Mrs Frey. I considered the situation, told myself the thing to do was skip it, and decided that I must be hard of hearing when I became aware that I had dialled the operator and asked for the number. Then, after I had got it and spelled my name and waited a minute, Annabel Frey's voice was in my ear. At least the voice said it was her, but I wouldn't have recognised it. It was sort of tired and hopeless.
“You don't sound like you, I told her.
“I suppose not, she conceded. “It seems like a million years since you came that day and we watched you being a detective. You never found out who poisoned the dog, did you?
“No, but don't hold it against me. I wasn't expected to. You may have heard that that was just a blind.
“Yes, of course. I don't suppose Nero Wolfe is back?
“Nope.
“You're running his office for him?
“Well, I wouldn't call it running. I'm here.
“I want to see you.
“Excuse me for staring, but do you mean on business?
“Yes. A pause, then her voice got more energetic. “I want you to come up here and talk with us. I don't want to go on like this, and I'm not going to. When people look at me I can see it in their eyes-was it me that killed my mother-in-law?-or in some of them I can see it, and that makes me think it's there with all of them. It's been nearly a month now, and all the police are doing-but you read the papers. She left me this place and a lot of money, and I wish I could hire Nero Wolfe. You must know where he is.
“Sorry. I don't.
“Then I want to hire you. You're a good detective, aren't you?
“Opinions vary. I rate myself close to the top, but you have to discount that for my bias.
“Could you come up here to-day? This evening?
“I couldn't make it to-day. My brain was having some exercise for the first time in weeks. “Look, Mrs Frey, I wouldn't be in a hurry about this. There's-
“A hurry? She sounded bitter. “It's been nearly a month!
“I know, and that's why another few days won't matter. There's nothing fresh about it, to get stale. Why don't you do this, let me do a little looking around, just on my own, and then you'll hear from me. After that you can decide whether you want to hire me or not.
“I've already decided.
“I haven't. I don't want your dough if there's no chance of earning it.
Since her mind had been made up before she called me, she didn't like it my way but finally settled for it.
I discovered when I hung up that my mind was made up too. It had made itself up while I was talking to her. I couldn't go on like this forever, nothing but a damn' caretaker with no telling from day to day how long it might last. Nor could I, while drawing pay as Wolfe's assistant, take a boat for Europe or run for Mayor of New York or buy an island and build up a harem, or any of the other things on my deferred list; and certainly, while taking his pay, I couldn't personally butt into a case that he had run away from.
But there was nothing to prevent me from taking advantage of the gratitude that was still felt, even after paying the fee, by certain former clients of ours, and I took up the phone again and got the president of one of the big realty outfits, and was glad to learn that I hadn't over-estimated his gratitude. When
I had explained my problem he said he would do all he could to help, starting right then.
So I spent the afternoon looking at offices in the midtown section. All I wanted was one little room with a light that worked, but the man that the realty president sent logo around with me was more particular than I was, and he turned his nose up at two or three that I would have bought. We finally got to one on
Madison Avenue, tenth floor, in the Forties, which he admitted might do. It wouldn't be vacated until the next day, but that didn't matter much because I still had to buy furniture. I was allowed to sign for it on a month-to-month basis.
The next couple of days I had to keep myself under control. I had never been aware of any secret longing to have my own agency, but I had to choke off an impulse to drop in at Macgruder's Thursday morning and blow a couple of thousand of my own jack on office equipment. Instead, I went to Second Avenue and found bargains. Having decided not to take anything from Thirty-fifth Street, I made up a shopping list of about forty items, from ash-trays to a Moorhead's
Directory, and shot the works.
Late Saturday afternoon, with a package under my arm, I emerged from the elevator, went down the hall to the door of 1019, and backed off to give it a look.
