Murder by the Book

I addressed him. "A bum start. Nearly fifty, married, and a wise guy. She had checked the number somehow and knew it was yours. However, I intended to tell them that anyhow. We've got-"

"Archie."

"Yes, sir."

"What was that flummery about dinner?"

"No flummery. I haven't told you, I've decided to ask them to stay to dinner. It will be much-"

"Stay to dinner here?"

"Certainly."

"No." It was his flattest no.

I flared. "That," I said, as flat as him, "is childish. You have a low opinion of women and'-now let me finish-anyhow, you don't want them around. But because this case has completely dried up on you, you have dumped this in my lap, and I need all the play I can get, and besides, are you going to send a crowd of your fellow beings, regardless of sex, away from your house hungry at the dinner hour?"

His lips were tight. He parted them to speak. "Very well. You can take them to dinner at Rusterman's. I'll phone Marko and he'll give you a private room. When you know how many-"

The phone rang, and I swiveled and got it and told the transmitter, "Archie Goodwin speaking."

A feminine voice said, "Say something else."

"It's your turn," I stated.

"Was it you that brought the boxes?"

It was the switchboard misanthrope. "Right," I admitted. "Did they all get delivered?"

"Yes, all but one. One was home sick. Brother, did you stir

up some hell around there! Is it true that you're the Archie Goodwin that works for Nero Wolfe?"

"I am. This is his number."

"Well, well! The note said to call it and ask why. Why?"

"I'm lonely and I'm giving a party. Tomorrow at six. Here at Nero Wolfe's place. The address is in the book. You will be in no danger if enough of you come. Plenty of orchids, plenty of drinks, a chance to know me better, and a dinner fit for Miss America. May I ask your name?"

"Sure, Blanche Duke. You say tomorrow at six?"

"That's right."

"Would you care to make a note of something?"

"I love to make notes."

"Put down Blanche Duke. Isn't that a hell of a name? Two jiggers of dry gin, one of dry vermouth, two dashes of grenadine, and two dashes of Pernod. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"I may come tomorrow, but if I don't, try that yourself. I never know what I'm going to do tomorrow."

I told her she'd better come, swiveled, and spoke to Wolfe.

"That's better than Mrs. Adams, at least. Not so bad for the

first hour after the office closed. About taking them to Rusterman's, they'd probably like going to the best restaurant in

, New York, but-"

"You won't take them to Rusterman's."

"No? You said?"