Nero Wolfe (07): Over My Dead Body by Stout Rex

Author:Stout, Rex [Stout, Rex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Detective, Detective Series, Murder, Mystery, Novel
ISBN: 0515027537
Google: t20_PEPjVC8C
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 148934
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1939-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

At half past one in the morning, with me yawning my head off and an outside errand still to do, the doorbell should ring.

I went to the front and unlocked, leaving the chain bolt on so that the door only opened to a five-inch crack, and peered through at the male figure standing there.

“Well?”

“I want to see Nero Wolfe.”

“Name, please?”

“Open the door!” He was a bit peremptory.

“Tut tut,” I said. “It’s after office hours. If you don’t like your own name, make up one. But it had better be a good one, at this time of night.”

“My name is Donald Barrett.”

“Oh. Okay. Hold that pose. I’ll be back.”

I went to the office and told Wolfe. He opened his eyes, frowned, muttered something, and nodded. I returned to the front and let the nightwalker in, flunkeyed for him, and escorted him to the office. In the bright light he looked handsome and harassed, with his white tie somewhat crooked and his hair disarranged. He blinked at Wolfe and said he was

Donald Barrett.

“So I understand. Sit down.”

“Thanks.” He lodged his sitter on the edge of a chair in a temporary manner. “This is a frightful stink, this thing.”

Wolfe’s brows went slightly up. “This thing?”

“This—up at Miltan’s. Ludlow. It’s murder, you know.”

“I believe it is. You were among those present.”

“Yes, I was, damn it. Of course you got that from this fellow you sent up there.”

“Excuse me,” Wolfe murmured. “I thought you two had met. Mr. Barrett, this is Mr. Goodwin, my assistant.”

“Oh, we met. We spoke a few words. He was guarding the door and I asked him to let a young lady through to keep an important appointment and he wouldn’t do it.”

Wolfe nodded. “That was Miss Reade.”

“Oh? He told you that too?”

“Mr. Goodwin tells me everything.”

“I suppose he would. Naturally. He was damn bullheaded about letting Miss Reade out. He said the worst thing she could do was to leave the place and start the cops looking for her, and then, by God, he gets out himself somehow and starts them looking for him!”

“I know. He goes by whim.” Wolfe was sympathetic. “Is that what you came to see me for? To reproach me for Mr. Goodwin’s behavior?”

Barrett looked at him suspiciously, but Wolfe’s expression was bland. “No,” he said, “I just mentioned it. He was damn bullheaded. There was no reason in the world why Miss Reade should have been kept there. As far as I myself was concerned, I was perfectly willing to stand the inconvenience. But I came to see you regarding another … well, another angle. This fellow that you sent up there—you sent him to represent Miss Tormic, didn’t you?”

“What fellow?”

“Your assistant, damn it!” His head went sidewise in my direction. “Goodwin.”

“Yes. I’m not really obtuse, Mr. Barrett, only I like the custom of designating people by their names; it’s so handy. Yes, Mr. Goodwin was there in the interest of Miss Tormic.”

“That’s what he said.”

“She agreed, didn’t she?”

“Sure. That was all right. But that was about that business of Driscoll’s diamonds—the damn fool.

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