The Doorbell Rang (The Rex Stout Library)

I was following my own approach to the problem of getting it out of Sarah Dacos. I admit it was roundabout, especially in view of the fact that time was short, but it was a better stab at getting results than persuading her to go to the Flamingo for an evening of dancing. The fact that time was short had been made publicly evident by an item on the twenty-eighth page of the morning paper, which I had read at my breakfast table in the kitchen. It was headlined FINGERS CROSSED? and said:

The members of the Ten for Aristology, one of the most exclusive of New York's gourmet groups, evidently do not believe that history repeats itself. Lewis Hewitt, capitalist, socialite, orchid fancier, and aristologist, will entertain the group at dinner at his home at North Cove, Long Island, on Thursday evening, January 14. The menu will be chosen by Nero Wolfe, the well-known private investigator, and the food will be prepared by Fritz Brenner, Mr Wolfe's chef. Mr Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, his confidential assistant, will be present as guests.

That arrangement arouses memory of another occasion when Mr Brenner cooked a dinner for the Ten for Aristology, and Mr Wolfe and Mr Goodwin were guests, at the home of Benjamin Schriver, the shipping magnate. It occurred on April 1, 1958, and one of the Ten, Vincent Pyle, head of a Wall Street brokerage firm, was poisoned with arsenic in his portion of the first course, served to him by Carol Annis, who was subsequently convicted of first-degree murder.

Yesterday a Times reporter, remembering that former occasion, telephoned Mr Hewitt and asked him if any of the Ten for Aristology (aristology means science of dining) had shown any reluctance to attend the affair next Thursday, and Mr Hewitt said no. When the reporter asked him if he would keep his fingers crossed he said, "How can I? I couldn't handle my knife and fork."

It will certainly be an excellent meal.