'Are you ready to disclose the facts?'
'Not to you. To the police, yes.'
Mrs. Rackell snapped at him, 'Have you gone mad, you fool?'
He stared at her. I've heard a lot of phony cracks in that office, of all kinds and shapes, but that one by Henry Jameson Heath took the cake. Staring at her, he said calmly, 'I must do my duty as a citizen, Mrs. Rackell.'
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Wolfe spoke. 'Archie, get Mr. Cramer.' I stepped to my desk and dialed.
(? aturday noon, the next day, Wengert and Cramer stood C2) there in the office, at the end of Wolfe's desk. They were standing because, having been there nearly an hour and covered all the points, they were ready to leave. They had not admitted in so many words that Wolfe had done the American people, including them, a favor, but on the whole they had been sociable.
As they were turning to go I said, 'Excuse me, one little thing.'
They looked at me. I spoke to Wengert. 'I thought Mr. Wolfe might mention it, but he didn't, and neither did you. I only bring it up to offer a constructive criticism. An FBI undercover girl, even one disguised as a Commie, shouldn't get in the habit of hurting people's feelings just for the hell of it. It didn't do a particle of good for Carol Berk to call me a crummy little stooge before a witness. Of course she was sore because I found her in the closet, but even so. I think you ought to speak to her about it.'
Wengert was frowning at me. 'Carol Berk? What kind of |. a gag is this?'
'Oh, come off it.' I was disgusted. 'How thick could I
i get? It was so obvious Mr. Wolfe didn't even bother to com
I ment on it. Who else could have told you about my talk with
, Delia Devlin? She trusted Miss Berk enough to let her hide
I in the closet, so of course she told her about it. Do you want
r to debate it with me on TV?''
'No. Nor with anybody else. You talk too damn much.' 'Only with the right people. Say please, and I'll promise .not to tell. I just wanted to make a helpful suggestion. I may ;,be crummy and I may be a stooge, but I'm not little.'
Cramer snorted. 'If you ask me there's too much of you.
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About a hundred and eighty pounds too much. Come on, Wengert, I'm late.'
They went. I supposed that was the last of that, but a couple of days later, Monday afternoon, while Wolfe was dictating a letter, the phone rang and a voice said it was Carol Berk. I said hello, showing no enthusiasm, and asked her, 'How are your manners?'
'Rotten when required,' she said cheerfully. 'Privately like this, from a phone booth, I can be charming. I thought it was only fair for me to apologize for calling you little.'
'Okay, go ahead.'
'I thought you might prefer it face to face. I'm willing to take the trouble if you insist.'
'Well, I'll tell you. I had an idea last week, Wednesday I think it was, that I ought to find time some day to tell you why I don't like you. We could meet and clean it up. I'll tell you why I don't like you, and you'll apologize. The Churchill bar at four-thirty? Can you be seen with me in public?'
'Certainly, I'm supposed to be seen in public.'
'Fine. I'll have a hammer and sickle in my buttonhole.'
As I hung up and swiveled I told Wolfe, 'That was Carol Berk. I'm going to buy her a drink and possibly food. Since she was connected with the case we've just finished, of course I'll put it on the expense account.'
'You will not,' he asserted and resumed the dictation.
56
ere were several reasons why I had no complaints as I walked along West Thirty-fifth Street that morning, apling the stoop of Nero Wolfe's old brownstone house. I day was sunny and sparkling, my new shoes felt fine after two-mile walk, a complicated infringement case had been lished off for a big client, and I had just deposited a check in : figures to Wolfe's account in the bank. Five paces short of the stoop I became aware that two pie, a man and a woman, were standing on the sidewalk the street, staring either at the stoop or at me, or maybe That lifted me a notch higher, with the thought that lile two rubbernecks might not put us in a class with the lite House still it was nothing to sneeze at, until a second ice made me realize that I had seen them before. But here? Instead of turning up the steps I faced them, just as
' stepped off the curb and started to me. 'Mr. Goodwin,' the woman said in a sort of gasping whis: that barely reached me.
She was fair-skinned and blue-eyed, young enough, kind m? nice-looking and neat in a dark blue assembly- line coat. He as dark as she was fair, not much bigger than her, with mis nose slanting slightly to the left and a full wide mouth. |My delay in recognizing him was because I had never seen with a hat on before. He was the hatandcoatandtie
tim
istodian at the barber shop I went to. 'Oh, it's you, Carl-' 'Can we go in with you?' the woman asked in the same
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