Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

He stopped, looking at me. As to clothes he was careless and maybe not even too clean in a bright light, but otherwise you might have expected to find his picture as a back on a football team. Except he was a little light for it.

“Not at present on duty,” I said. “Why, what did you expect, the Navy?”

He laughed. “I just meant I didn’t expect to see an Army officer. Not here. And I heard you asking to see Miss Amory, and I didn’t know she knew any Army officers.”

“Do you know Miss Amory?”

“Sure I know her. I live here. Two flights up.” He extended a hand. “My name’s Leon Furey.”

“Mine’s Archie Goodwin.” We shook hands. “Do you happen to know if Miss Amory is at home?”

“She’s up on the roof.” He was taking me in. “Not the Archie Goodwin that works for Nero Wolfe?”

“That used to. Before I changed clothes. What is Miss Amory doing-”

A voice cut in from up above:

“Who is it, Leon? Bring him up!”

It was a borderline husky voice, the kind that requires further evidence before deciding the question, man or woman. The young man’s head pivoted for a quick look up the stairs and then turned back to me, and his face broke into a grin. It seemed likely that he regarded it as an engaging grin, or maybe even charming. The vote for him in the Larchmont Women’s Club would have stood about 92 to 11. He came closer to me and lowered his voice.

“I suppose you know you’re in a bughouse? My advice is to beat it. I’ll take a message for Miss Amory-”

“Leon!” the voice came down. “Bring him up here!”

“I’d like to see Miss Amory now,” I said, and started to by-pass Leon, but he shrugged his shoulders with masculine charm and started back upstairs, with me following. In the hall one flight up, standing in an open door, was the owner of the voice. The clothes, a brown woolen dress that might have been worn at the inauguration of McKinley, apparently settled the man or woman question, but aside from that she was built to play end or tackle on the same team with Leon. Also she stood more like a soldier than I did or was likely to.

“What’s this?” she demanded as we approached. “I don’t know you. Come in here.”