Over My Dead Body

I climbed in and started the engine and rolled. As I rounded the corner to head downtown she said, "Gribblezook." I replied, "Hvala Bogu." Apparently it was satisfactory, for she relaxed into the corner and shut up. A couple of times en route I opened my mouth to inform her where we were bound for and what she had to look forward to, but a glance at her made me decide I'd be wasting my breath. The traffic was at home in bed where it belonged, and I made good time down to 35th and then cross-town.

I stopped at the kerb in front of the house, grabbed her shoulder and straightened her up, and called her name. No response and her eyes were shut. I shook her. I turned her loose and she flopped in the corner as runny as mush. I pinched her thigh, a good one, and she didn't flinch. I pulled her up straight and shook her again, and her head bounced on to my shoulder and stayed there, and then rolled off. "Hell! I muttered. "It's only ten yards to a touchdown." And I climbed out, pulled her across to my side, got my shoulder under her, and hoisted her up. She was as dead as a bag of oats. I distributed her weight better, something around 120, and crossed the sidewalk, staggered up the steps, and rang the bell-two shorts and a long. In a minute the door opened as far as the chain and Fritz's voice came through:

"Archie?"

"Yeah. Open up."

The door swung open and I entered. After one glance at my cargo Fritz staggered back a step.

"Grand Dieu! Is she dead?"

"Naw, she's not even sick. Lock the door."

The door of the office was standing open and I went through sidewise to keep from knocking her head against the jamb. Wolfe was there reading a book. He looked up and saw what I had, made a face, dog-eared a page and closed the book, and sat and shook his head. A glance at the couch showed me that it was still covered with the maps which he had spread all over it three days previously with instructions that they were not to be touched, so I put her down on the floor, in the middle of the rug, straightened my back to remove a kink, pointed an unwavering finger at her, and said casually, "Madame Zorka."

He folded his arms. "What's the matter with her?"

"Nothing."

"Did you hit her?"

"No."

"Don't be an ass. You don't carry women around and lay them on the floor when there's nothing wrong with them. Is she unconscious?"