There was a mob there sitting along the edge of it. One of them got smart and turned on a flash and spotted it on my face as I approached. Rowcliff and the trooper came up and stood at the foot of the steps.
I demanded, “Who's in charge of this gang? I know you're not, Rowcliff, we're outside the city limits. Who's got any right to be here on private property?”
They looked at each other. The trooper stuck out his chin at me and asked, “Have you?”
“You're darned tooting I have. You've seen a paper signed by the executor of the estate that owns this. I've got another one in my pocket. Well, come on, who's in charge? Who's responsible for this outrage?”
There was a cackle from the porch, a shadow in the corner. “I've got a right to be here, ain't I, Archie?”
I peered at it. “Oh, hi, Fred. What are you doing out here in the cold?”
He ambled toward me. “We didn't want to open the door, because this bunch of highbinders might take a notion-”
I snorted. “Where would they get it from? – All right, nobody's in charge, is that it? Fred, call Saul-”
“I'll take the responsibility!” A little squirt had popped up and I saw his spectacles. He squealed, “I'm the Assistant District Attorney of this county! We have a legal right-”
I did some towering over him. “You have a legal right to go home and go to bed.
Have you got a warrant or a subpoena or even a cigarette paper?”
“No, there wasn't time-”
“Then shut up.” I turned to Rowcliff and the trooper. “You think I'm being tough? Not at all, I'm just indignant and I have a right to be. You've got a nerve, to come to a private house in the middle of the night and expect to go through it, without any evidence that there has ever been anything or anyone criminal in it. What do you want, the red box? It's Nero Wolfe's property, and if it's in there I'll get it and put it in my pocket and walk out with it, and don't try to play tag with me, because I'm sensitive about coming in contact with people.” I brushed past them and mounted the porch, crossed to the door and rapped on it:
“Come here, Fred. Saul!”
I heard his voice from inside: “Hello, Archie! Okay?”
“Sure, okay. Open the door! Stand by, Fred.”
The gang had stood up and edged toward us a little. I heard the lock turning; the door swung open and a lane of light ribboned the porch; Saul stood on the threshold with Orrie back of him. Fred and I were there too. I faced the throng:
“I hereby order you to leave these premises. All of you. In other words, beat it. Now do as you damn please, but its on the record that you're here illegally, for future reference. We resent your scuffing up the porch, but if you try coming in the house we'll resent that a lot worse. Back up, Saul. Come on,
Fred.”
We went in. Saul closed the door and locked it. I looked around. Knowing that the joint belonged to McNair, I halfway expected to see some more decorators' delights, but it was rustic. Nice big chairs and seats with cushions and a big heavy wooden table, and a blaze crackling in a wide fireplace at one end. I turned to Fred Durkin:
“You darned liar. You said there was no fire.”
He grinned, rubbing his hands in front of it. “I didn't think Mr. Wolfe ought to think we was too comfortable.”
“He wouldn't mind. He doesn't like hardship, even for you.” I looked around again and spoke to Saul in a lower tone. “Where's what you've got with you?”
He nodded at a door. “In the other room. No light in there.”
“You didn't find the box?”
“No sign of it. All cubic inches accounted for.”
Since it was Saul, that settled it. I asked him, “Is there another door?”
“One at the back. We've got it propped.”
“Okay. You and Fred stay here. Orrie, come with me.”
He lumbered over and I led him into the other room. After I closed the door behind us it was good and dark, but there were two dim rectangles for windows, and after a few seconds I made out an outline in a chair. I said to Orrie,
“Sing.”
He grumbled, “What the hell, I'm too hungry to sing.”
“Sing anyway. If one of them happens to glue his ear to a window I want him to hear something. Sing 'Git Along, Little Dogie'.”
“I can't sing in the dark-”
“Damn it, will you sing?”
He cleared his throat and started it up. Orrie had a pretty good voice. I went close to the outline in the chair and said to it:
