Murder by the Book

Without opening his eyes, he muttered, "And I said it was satisfactory to have you back."

18

THAT was an afternoon I wouldn't care to live through again, not even if I knew what the evening was going to bring. To begin with, Wolfe was totally unbearable. After lunch he got behind his desk with a book, and after a dozen assorted attempts to get a conversation started I quit. Then Saul Panzer phoned in, and he growled at me to get off the line. I had already suspected that he had Saul on a trail, since a check of the cash box and book had informed me that he had given Saul three hundred bucks, and that confirmed it. I always resent it when he sees fit to give one of the boys a chore that he thinks I don't need to know about, and that time it was more offensive than usual, since I couldn't very well blab anything, sitting there on my tail, yawning.

Worse than him, though, was me. He had told me twice to take a nap, so naturally I wasn't going to. I wanted to be there if the phone rang. I wanted to be there if Mrs. Adams came to confess to the three murders. But I did not want to make out checks or work on the germination records or go through catalogues. My problem was to stay awake without having anything to keep my eyes open, and it was even tougher after Wolfe went up to the plant rooms at four o'clock. For two solid

hours only one notion occurred to me that had any attraction at all, to phone Mrs. Potter in Glendale and tell her I had got home safely, and I vetoed that because it might prove to he habit-forming. But by gum I stayed awake, if you can call it that.

There was another call from Saul just before dinner, and again I was told to get off the line. Wolfe's end of the chat was nothing but grunts. After dinner he told me to go to bed, and God knows I would have liked to, but I got stubborn and went for a walk instead. I dropped in at a movie, found myself getting fascinated with the idea of resting my head on, the soft fat female shoulder next to me, jerked away, and got up and went home. It was a little after ten.

Wolfe was at his desk, going through the stack of germination slips that had accumulated while I was away. I asked him, "Any more movement?"

"No."

I gave up. "I might as well go up and lie down a while." I went and twirled the knob of the safe. "I put the bolt on in front and I'll check the back. Good night."

"Good night."

The phone rang. I stepped to my desk and got it.

"Nero Wolfe's residence, Archie Goodwin speaking."

"I want to speak to Wolfe."