The Doorbell Rang (The Rex Stout Library)

"Not offhand," I said. "No suggestion. I have a comment. You said that if she's being tailed she was followed here, but if her phone's tapped they didn't have to bother to tail her because they heard her secretary making the appointment."

He frowned. "And this house is under surveillance."

"Possibly. It could be that it isn't as bad as she thinks it is. Of course she wouldn't stretch it deliberately, but-"

"I don't 'stretch' things," she cut in.

"Of course not," I told her. "But," I told Wolfe, "people who aren't used to being annoyed annoy easy. We can check the tailing part right now." I turned. "Did you come in a taxi, Mrs Bruner?"

"No. My car and chauffeur are outside."

"Fine. I'll take you out and wait there while you leave and see what happens." I stood up. "Mr Wolfe can let you know tomorrow what he decides." I went to the couch for the sable.

It worked. She didn't like it. She had come to hire Nero Wolfe, and she hung on for five minutes trying to clinch it, but she soon saw that she was only riling him and got up and invited her coat. She was up on Wolfe all right. Aware that he didn't like to shake hands, she didn't offer, but when I followed her out to the stoop she gave my hand a firm warm clasp, having gathered that I was going to be in on the decision. There were a couple of icy spots on the seven steps of the stoop, and I took her elbow down to the sidewalk, and the chauffeur was there at the open car door to hand her in. Before she went to it she slanted the brown-black eyes up at me and said, "Thank you, Mr Goodwin. Of course there will be a check for you, personally."

The chauffeur didn't touch her; apparently she preferred to do it herself, so she wasn't the kind of middle-aged widow who likes to feel a grip on her arm from a big strong male. When she was in he shut the door, got in front behind the wheel, and rolled; and thirty yards to the east, toward Ninth Avenue, a car whose lights had gone on and whose engine had started slid out and forward and came on by. Two men in the front seat. I stood there in the cold January wind long enough to see it take the turn into Tenth Avenue. It was laughable, so I laughed as I mounted the stoop, but I shut it off before I entered the hall.