The Rubber Band

Taking the hint that he didn't want to burden my ears with Orrie's schedule, I hung up. I filed some notes in the safe and loaded Wolfe's pen and tested it, a chore that I hadn't been able to get around to before- absent-mindedly, because I was off on a new track. I had no idea what had started Wolfe in that direction. It had beautiful possibilities, no doubt of that, but a hundred-to-one shot in a big handicap is a beautiful possibility too, and how often would you collect on it? After taxing the brain a few minutes, this looked more like a million to one. I would probably have gone on to add more ciphers to that if I hadn't been interrupted by the doorbell. Of course I was still on that job too. I went to the hall and pulled the curtain to see through the glass panel, and got a surprise. It was the first time Wolfe's house had ever been taken for a church, but there wasn't any other explanation, for either that specimen on the stoop was scheduled for best man at a wedding or Emily Post had been fooling me for years.

The two dicks were down on the sidewalk, looking up at the best man as if it was too much of a problem for them. They had nothing on me. I opened the door and let it come three inches, leaving the chain on, and said in a well-bred tone, "Good morning."

He peered through at me. "I say, that crack is scarcely adequate. Really." He had a well-trained voice but a little squawky.

"I'm sorry. This is a bad neighborhood and we have to be careful. What can I do for you?"

He went on peering. "Is this the house of Mr. Nero Wolfe?"

"It is."

He hesitated, and turned to look down at the snoops on the sidewalk, who were staring up at him in the worst possible taste. Then he came closer and pushed his face up against the crack and said in a tone nearly down to a whisper, "From Lord Clivers. I wish to see Mr. Wolfe."