might take a day off. After you have a talk with the family, whatever you're going to say, you can have them pick it up again if that's the programme, which I hope to God it isn't.” He made that concession. I couldn't get Fred or Orrie, but they would certainly call in soon and word was left with Fritz to tell them to lay off until further notice. Then Wolfe had to go up to the roof for another look while I went to the garage for the car, so it was nearly noon when we got rolling. Wolfe, in the back seat as always, because that gave him a better chance to come out alive when we crashed, had a firm grip on the strap with his right hand, but that was only routine and didn't mean he was any shakier than usual when risking his neck in a thing on wheels. However, I noticed in the mirror that he didn't shut his eyes once the whole trip, although he hadn't been in bed for thirty hours now.
The day was cloudy and windy, not one of June's best samples, though no rain fell. When we were approaching Stony Acres and reached the spot on the secondary road where Rony and I had been assaulted by highwaymen, I stopped to show Wolfe the terrain, and told him Saul had reported that the take from Rony had been three hundred and twelve bucks, and was awaiting instructions for disposal.
Wolfe wasn't interested in the terrain. “Are we nearly there?” Tes, sir. A mile and a half.” “Go ahead.” When we rolled up to the front entrance of the mansion, we were honoured. It was not the sad looking guy in a mohair uniform who appeared and came to us, but James U. Sperling himself. He was not smiling. He spoke through the open car window.
“What does this mean?” He couldn't be blamed for not knowing that Wolfe would never stay in a vehicle any longer than he had to, since their acquaintance was brief. Before replying, Wolfe pushed the door open and manipulated himself out on to the gravel.
Meanwhile Sperling was going on. “I tried to get you on the phone, but by the time I got the number you had left. What are you trying to do? You know damn well I don't want this.” Wolfe met his eye. Tfou looked me up, Mr Sperling. You must know that I am not harebrained. I assure you that I can justify this move, but I can do so only by proceeding with it. When I have explained matters to you and your family, we'll see if you can find any alternative to approval. I'll stake my reputation that you can't.” Sperling wanted to argue it then and there, but Wolfe stood pat, and seeing that he had to choose between letting us come on in and ordering us off the place, the Chairman of the Board preferred the former. He and Wolfe headed for the door. Since no help had shown up, I took the car around the house to a gravelled plaza in the rear, screened by shrubbery, left it there, and made for the nearest entrance, which was the west terrace. As I was crossing it a door opened and there was Madeline. I told her hello.
She inspected me with her head cocked to one side and the big dark eyes half open. “You don't look so battered.” “No? I am. Internal injuries. But not from the hold-up. From-” I waved a hand.
“You ought to know.” “I'm disappointed in you.” Her eyes went open. “Why didn't you shoot them?” “My mind was elsewhere. You ought to know that too. We can compare notes on that some other time. Thank you very much for stalling it until it was too late for your father to head us off. Also thank you for taking my word for it that this is the best we can do for Gwenn. How many names have I got here now and where do they fit in?” “Oh, you're Archie everywhere. I explained that much to Webster and Paul and Connie too, because they'll eat lunch with us and it would have been too complicated, and anyway with Nero Wolfe here-they're not halfwits. Incidentally, you've made lunch late; we usually have it at one, so come on. How's your appetite?” I told her I'd rather show her than tell her, and we went in.
Lunch was served in the big dining-room. Wolfe and I were the only ones with neckties on, though the day was too chilly for extremes like shorts. Sperling had a striped jacket over a light blue silk shirt open at the neck. Jimmy and Paul Emerson were sporting dingy old coat sweaters, one brown and one navy.
Webster Kane varied it with a wool shirt with loud red and yellow checks. Mrs Sperling was in a pink rayon dress and a fluffy pink sweater, unbuttoned; Connie Emerson was in a dotted blue thing that looked like a dressing-gown but maybe I didn't know, Gwenn in a tan shirt and slacks, and Madeline in a soft but smooth wool dress of browns and blacks that looked like a PSI fabric.
So it was anything but a formal gathering, but neither was it free and easy.
They ate all right, but they all seemed to have trouble deciding what would be a good thing to talk about. Wolfe, who can't stand a strained atmosphere at meals, tried this and that with one and another, but the only line that got anywhere at all was a friendly argument with Webster Kane about the mechanism of money and a book by some Englishman which nobody else had ever heard of, except maybe Sperling, who may have known it by heart but wasn't interested.
When that was over and we were on our feet again, there was no loitering around.
The Emersons, with Paul as sour as ever and Connie not up to form in her dressing-gown, if she will excuse me, went in the direction of the living-room, and Webster Kane said he had work to do and went the other way. The destination of the rest of us had apparently been arranged. With Sperling in the lead, we marched along halls and across rooms to arrive at the library, the room with books and a stock ticker where I had wangled the master key and had later phoned Saul Panzer. Wolfe's eyes, of course, immediately swept the scene to appraise the chairs, which Sperling and Jimmy began herding into a group; and, knowing he had had a hard night, I took pity on him, grabbed the best and biggest one, and put it in the position I knew he would like. He gave me a nod of appreciation as he got into it, leaned back and closed his eyes, and sighed.
The others got seated, except Sperling, who stood and demanded, “All right, justify this. You said you could.”
CHAPTER Seven
Wolfe stayed motionless for seconds. He raised his hands to press his fingertips against his eyes, and again was motionless. Finally he let his hands fall to the chair arms, opened the eyes and directed them at Gwenn.
“You look intelligent, Miss Sperling.” “We're all intelligent,” Sperling snapped. “Get on.” Wolfe looked at him. “It's going to be long-winded, but I can't help it. You must have it all. If you try prodding me you'll only lengthen it. Since you head a large enterprise, sir, and therefore are commander-in-chief of a huge army, surely you know when to bullyrag and when to listen. Will you do me a favour?
Sit down. Talking to people who are standing makes my neck stiff.” “I want to say something,” Gwenn declared.
