Over My Dead Body

"No, thank you."

We went.

The trio in the office was now four: with us, six. The dick was still bored. Fred, the bum, had reoccupied my chair against my express orders, but as I entered he moved to another one. Cramer stood over by the big globe, twirling it. Neya Tormic's eyes fastened on Wolfe as he appeared in the door and followed him as he crossed to his desk, sat, and reached for the button. I realized that he was in about as bad a humour as I could remember, because he issued no invitation for anyone to have beer. Neya Tormic said, with her eyes boring holes through him:

"I want to see you alone-to ask you something."

Wolfe nodded. "I know what you want. That will have to wait. You didn't get to finish your errand. Isn't that it?"

"I-" She stopped and wet her lips. "You promised."

"No, Miss Tormic, I didn't. I know you've had a hard afternoon, but surely you remember why you and Mr Goodwin were looking for Miss Lovchen. And you didn't find her."

"She's gone."

"How do you know that?"

"This-Inspector Cramer just told me they can't find her."

"Where has she gone to?"

"I don't know."

Wolfe uncapped a bottle of beer and poured. "Anyway," he declared, "that will have to wait. Confound it, everything will have to wait!" He drank until the glass was empty. "Mr Cramer, you have been hanging around here since two o'clock. You have shown admirable patience and restraint-for instance, regarding Archie's presence at the Maidstone Building-and of course I know why. You want something and you think you can get it here and nowhere else. I tell you frankly, it isn't here. I don't suppose you contemplate spending the night in my house…"

I didn't hear the rest of the build-up for sending the inspector out into the night, because the door-bell rang and I went to answer it. Usually I performed that service anyway from six to eight, when Fritz was busy getting dinner, and on this occasion, considering the goose I had left in Wolfe's room, I had a special interest in the possibility of invading hordes. But what I found on the stoop wasn't a horde at all, but merely a youth in a snappy uniform with a little flat package he wanted to deliver to Nero Wolfe. I put out a hand for it, but he said he had instructions to put it into the hands of Nero Wolfe and no one else's. So I took him to the office. He marched across to the desk like a West Point cadet ready for his commission, stood with his heels together and asked politely:

"Mr Nero Wolfe?"

"Yes, sir."