That settled it. Hagh wanted him to take a look at the precious document, and Irby was too damn stubborn to give in without a couple more tries, but that was all. They could have saved their breath. I went to the hall with them and was disappointed again when Hagh, who was younger, bigger, and stronger than Irby, insisted on carrying both the bag and the suitcase. I kept looking for little points to score against him, and he kept double- crossing me.
I went to the kitchen and told Fritz there would be nine guests instead of seven. But as it turned out that was not the final figure. Some four hours later, when I was up in my room changing my shirt and tie in honor of the approaching soiree, the doorbell rang, and a minute later Fritz called up that a man on the stoop who refused to give his name wanted to see me. I finished my grooming and descended and came upon a tableau. Fritz was at the front door, peering at the fastening of the chain bolt. Out on the stoop, visible through the one- way glass, was Andreas Hercules Fomos, glaring angrily at the crack which the bolt and chain were holding the door to, his posture indicating that he was making some kind of muscular effort.
'He's pushing at it,' Fritz told me.
I walked to him and called through the crack, 'You'll never make it, son. I'm Goodwin. What do you want?'
'I can't see you plain.' His voice was even gruffer and deeper than when he had been on the inside talking out. 'I want in.'
'So did I, and what did I get? What do you want? That's twice, so I have one coming. You asked me three times.'
'I could break your neck, Goodwin!'
'Then you'll never get in. I use my neck. What do you want? Now we're even.'
A voice came at me from behind. 'What is all this uproar?'
Wolfe had emerged from the office and was advancing, which wasn't as impetuous as it might have seemed. It was close to dinnertime, and he would soon have had to mobilize himself anyhow. Fritz trotted off toward the kitchen, where something was probably reaching its climax.
I told Wolfe, 'It's Andy Fomos, who ruined a shoe for me yesterday.' I told the crack, 'In ten seconds we close the door the rest of the way, and don't think we can't.'
'What you told me yesterday!' he bellowed.
'What? Do you mean about Priscilla Eads going to make your wife a director of Softdown?'
'Yes! I was thinking about it, and a little while ago I phoned that Mrs. Jaffee. She wouldn't say much, but she told me who you are and said I should see you. If that woman was going to make my wife an important thing like a director there must have been some good reason, and I want you to tell me what it was. She must have owed my wife something big, and I want to know what it was, because if it belongs to me I want it. My wife would have wanted me to have it. And you must know about it, or why did you come to see me?'
I turned to Wolfe. 'When you send me out for objects you get 'em, huh? This one completes the order. Do you want it?'
He was standing with his gaze focused through the one-way glass at the visitor. Fomos was not quite as impressive draped as he had been in shorts, but he was quite a figure. Wolfe grunted. 'If he came this evening would he be uncontrollable?'
'Not if I have tools handy, and I will.'
'Invite him.'
I turned to the crack. 'Listen, Junior. Some people are coming at nine o'clock this evening to talk the whole thing over, and we might get around to what's biting you, why your wife was to be made a director, or we might not. You may come if you'll behave yourself. If you don't behave you won't stay.'
'I won't wait! I want in now! I want-'
'Oh, can it! You heard me. We're now going to eat dinner, and the thought of you camped on the stoop would annoy us. If you're down on the sidewalk by the time I count ten I'll let you in at nine o'clock. If not, not. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…'
He had made it. Wolfe was headed for the dining room. I went to the kitchen and told Fritz, 'One more. There will be ten. Counting Mr. Wolfe and me, an even dozen. Counting you, thirteen.'
'Then we will not count me,' he said firmly.
Chapter 10
I was mildly peeved at Nathaniel Parker. It had been agreed that he and Mrs. Jaffee would come fifteen or twenty minutes early for a policy caucus, and instead of that they were the last to arrive, ten minutes late. Presumably, judging from their manner, they had dined together, and there was no law against that; and also presumably Parker thought a caucus not essential since Wolfe would take charge anyway; but their tardiness made it harder for me. I had no help from Wolfe, since it was his custom, when a gathering was expected, to stay in the kitchen until everyone had assembled.
By the time Parker and Sarah Jaffee showed up the air had got a little thick. The Softdown quintet had not come in a body, but had immediately formed one, collecting over in the corner by the couch and conversing in undertones. When I introduced Eric Hagh and his attorney, Irby, to them, there was no handshaking-for one thing the Softdown group was too surprised. I offered no explanation of Irby's and Hagh's presence, and wasn't asked for one. I did offer drinks, but nobody wanted any. Then Andy Fomos came, and after I had introduced and identified him he mixed himself a long one of white wine and soda and stood apart, sipping his drink and glowering around as if deciding which neck to break first. None but mine, and maybe Hagh's, would have been any problem for him. As for me, I had told Wolfe I would have tools handy, and I had-a snub-nosed Farger on my hip and a rubber silencer in my jacket pocket. It didn't seem likely that Wolfe could bring it to a boil at that meeting, but if he did there was no telling who would start what, and I had already had a shoe scuffed.
