Prisoner's Base

A voice said, "Hey, Goodwin, better knock off." An assistant DA and two clerks were in the room, sorting and arranging the papers and folders, and the voice was the assistant DA's. I yanked myself up. I had been two-thirds asleep. It was silly to pretend I could sit there and read.

"There's a room down the hall with a couch," one of them said, "and no one will be in it today. It's Saturday."

I would have given a million dollars to be on a couch, so I decided against it. I arose, announced that I was going for a walk and would be back before long, and beat it. Emerging from the building to the sidewalk, I got a shock-it was daylight. Dawn had come, and that helped to wake me and changed my outlook. I stood at the curb, and when a taxi loomed before long, headed uptown, I flagged it and gave the driver the address I knew best.

At that time of day we had Manhattan all to ourselves. West Thirty-fifth was empty too as I paid the hackie and climbed out. Since the chain bolt would of course be on the front door, instead of mounting the stoop I went down the four steps to the area door and pushed the button. It buzzed in the kitchen and Fritz's room. There were sounds from within, a door opening and footsteps, and Fritz gave me a look through the peep-glass and then opened up.

"Good God," he said, "you look awful."

I told him that was precisely why I had dropped in, to remedy that condition, apologized for disturbing him, and proceeded upstairs. Without even a glance in at the office as I passed by, I went on up to my room and started in on a shower, a shave, and a complete change. When I had finished I may or may not have looked better, but I sure felt better. Descending to the ground floor, I heard sounds in the kitchen and went in. Fritz was there, putting on his apron.

"What now?" I demanded. "It's only half-past six."

"Orange juice in two minutes. Breakfast in ten-enough to start."

"I'm on my way out."

"You'll eat first."

So I did, though I felt that it was bad manners to eat Wolfe's grub under the circumstances. Fritz kept me company, sitting on a stool and yawning while he wasn't serving the meal. At one point he observed, "This is getting to be a habit."

"What is?"

"This early breakfast. Yesterday about this time-a little later-I was poaching eggs for Mr. Wolfe and Saul."

I stopped a bite of pancake in midair. "You were what?"

"Poaching eggs for Mr. Wolfe and Saul."