The Doorbell Rang (The Rex Stout Library)

I had been in Arbor Street before, no matter why for this report. It's narrow and only three blocks long, with an assortment of old brick houses on either side. Number 63, which was near the middle, had nothing distinctive about it. I stood across the street and looked it over. The windows on the third floor, where Morris Althaus had lived and died, had tan drapes that were drawn. I went to the corner around which the G-men had parked their car. As I said, sightseeing, loose. Actually, of course, I was professionally observing the scene of a crime which might be going to have my attention. It helps somehow. Helps me, not Wolfe; he wouldn't go to the window to see the scene of a crime. I would have liked to go up to the third floor for a look at the living room, but I wanted to get home in time for lunch, so I backtracked to Christopher Street and flagged a taxi.

The reason I wanted to be there for lunch was the rule that business must never be mentioned during meals. It was twenty past one when Fritz let me in and I put my coat and hat on the rack, so Wolfe was at the table. Going to the dining room and taking my place across from him, I made a remark about the weather. He grunted and swallowed a bite of braised sweetbread.

Fritz came with the dish, and I took some. I was not being merely petty; I was showing him that sometimes rules can be damn silly; one you make so you can enjoy your food can just about spoil a meal. It didn't spoil mine, but there wasn't much conversation.

But there was another reason for saving it. As we pushed our chairs back I told him I wanted to show him something in the basement, and I led the way to the hall, then to the right, and down the steps. The basement has Fritz's room and bath, a storeroom, and a large room with a pool table. In the last is not only the usual raised bench, but also a big comfortable chair on a platform, for Wolfe when he feels like watching Saul Panzer and me use our cues, which happens about once a year. I led him to that room, flipped the wall switch for light, and spoke.

"Your new office. I hope you like it. There may be only one chance in a million that they can bug a room without getting inside, but that's one too many. Be seated." I lifted my rump onto the rim of the pool table, facing the big chair.

He glared. "Are you badgering me or is it possible?"