Archie in the Crosshairs

Chapter 23

As I had feared, it was no picnic trying to bring everybody in for Wolfe’s little party. I started with our client, and even he balked initially. “I do not know why I can’t just come over there and meet with Wolfe alone,” Parkhurst Hutchinson said in a tone that indicated he was used to getting his way. He was reverting to his bullying ways.

“This is not how Mr. Wolfe works,” I told him. “You have hired him for his brains, but in the deal you also get his eccentricities, which I concede are considerable.” The railroad tycoon was not satisfied, and we went back and forth for several minutes before I finally wore him down.

“All right, dammit. I suppose my wife should be along as well?”

“Yes, she should, and Cordelia, of course.”

“Who else will be present?”

“We are inviting all of your children, and also Cordelia’s friend, Marlene Peters.”

“Is this really necessary, Goodwin? As I see it, the embarrassment to Cordelia will be acute.”

“I am afraid some others may also be embarrassed, sir,” I said.

“What can you tell me about the program?”

“Nothing, as I don’t really know what Mr. Wolfe is planning,” I lied. “Other than to say there will be no further attempts to blackmail Cordelia, and that the blackmailer will be revealed, which should be a relief to everyone.”

“Well, at least that is something,” Hutchinson huffed.

“I believe that was the commission we were charged with,” I told him coldly.

He huffed again and our conversation concluded. Of the clan other than Cordelia, none seemed anxious to come to the brownstone. Annie tried to beg off, claiming another engagement. “Is it really necessary that I be there?” she asked plaintively.

“Your parents and all your siblings will be present. Your absence would be noted, certainly by your parents.”

That got me a grumble and a reluctant acceptance. Brother Tom was an only slightly easier sell. “I don’t see what I could possibly contribute by being there,” he said. “You know everything I do. I unloaded it all when we had lunch.”

“Mr. Wolfe seems to think it is important that the whole family be there to present a united front in support of Cordelia,” I improvised. “I don’t have to tell you that she has been through a really rough time.”

“Oh, all right, I surrender,” he sighed. “Can you give me directions? I’ll show up and try to behave myself.”

Doug was a tough sell once I finally reached him. “I’m not sure what all this is supposed to prove,” he muttered. “I’m in the middle of working on a new oil, and I hate any kind of interruption when I’m doing well. What’s more, I’ve got a commission on this one — a chance to make some honest-to-goodness shekels for a change.”

“You’re only being asked to give an hour or so on one night. I am sure your youngest sister would appreciate the support.”

“Frankly, Mr. Goodwin, my youngest sister won’t give two hoots whether I’m there or not.”

“However, it would not look good if you were the only absent Hutchinson,” I persisted.

“Anybody besides the family going to be there?”

“No,” I said, following Wolfe’s orders.

“Oh, screw it, I’ll show up,” he groused before hanging up on me. Fortunately, I had already given him our address. I hoped he would remember it.

Kathleen started by grumbling about the idea of coming into the city at night. “I really try to avoid New York these days, Archie,” she said. “Part of the reason is that I have to get a babysitter for my girls whenever I go into town.”

“Can’t their father do the honors that night?”

“Oh God, trying to get him to help with any parenting beyond what we worked out in the settlement is like trying to push a peanut down the street with your nose. What time do you think the session at your boss’s place will be over?”

“I’m hoping by ten — ten thirty at the latest.”

“Okay... Here’s what I think I can do: I’ve got a neighbor, a really swell gal, whose own little girl stayed overnight with us when my neighbor had an emergency, so I will see if she can reciprocate.” I told her that was a good idea and gave her the address of the brownstone.

Next, I called Marlene Peters. After getting no answer at her apartment, I tried the bookstore, with success. I had less success in getting her to agree to come to West Thirty-Fifth Street. “No, do not count me in,” she said sternly. “I don’t see how my being there would help in any way.”

“I gather you haven’t called Cordelia again about having lunch.”

“Uh, no, I haven’t. But I’m going to, in the next few days for sure.”

“Then you may not know that she specifically asked for you to be there for support,” I said, wondering how many lies I could get away with before one of them caught up with me.

“Who else is going to be there?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet. Besides Cordelia, probably only her parents, her brother Tom, and maybe her sister Annie.” Yet another lie. I was definitely headed for Hades.

“Will you be there, too?”

“Yes, but only as an observer. This is Nero Wolfe’s show.”

“Exactly what does that mean?”

“It means he will try his best to show Cordelia’s parents that their daughter has been the innocent victim of someone in Italy.”

“I hope he succeeds,” she said, sounding as if she meant it. “All right, if only for Cordelia’s sake, I will be there.”

When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at eleven and got himself settled, I grinned. “You don’t pay me enough for this type of work, but then you already know that. I talked to the whole guest list this morning, and they will all be here tomorrow night. At least they say they will. Never mind what I had to tell some of them to get them here.”

“Satisfactory. Get Inspector Cramer.”

I dialed a number I knew by heart as Wolfe picked up his instrument and I stayed on the line. As is usually the case, Cramer picked up the phone himself, barking his last name.

“Inspector, this is Nero Wolfe.”

“Yeah, somehow I recognize the voice. Why do I want to talk to you?”

“Tomorrow night, I am going to identify two murderers: the individual who shot Noah McManus in Central Park and the one who killed Alan Marx with a fireplace poker in his home.”

“Whoa, slow down. Who is your client? You always have one, usually rich, very rich. I have never known you to take on charity cases.”

“My client will become apparent to you tomorrow. You may come if you wish, and you may want to bring Sergeant Stebbins with you.”

“Are you trying to tell me my business?”

“Far be it from me to do such a thing, Inspector. I am simply extending a courtesy to you.”

“Courtesy, hah! You sound to me like you’re showing off — yet again.”

“Whether or not I am ‘showing off,’ to use your phrase,” Wolfe said, “it is you who will be credited with making an arrest in a highly publicized case.”

“If an arrest is actually made,” Cramer snorted.

“The choice is yours, sir. Tomorrow evening at nine, a number of individuals will be gathered here.”

“Care to name them?”

“I do not.”

“You are dealing with a police matter here, Wolfe.”

“Inspector, do you have any leads as to the shooting death in Central Park? Or the killing of Alan Marx?” Cramer’s answer was one of those words no so-called “family newspaper” would print.

“I can be of help to you, sir, and to the department as well. The decision remains yours. Good day.” Wolfe and I cradled our instruments. “You are fond of giving odds, Archie,” he said. “What are the odds the inspector will be with us here tomorrow night?”

“Ten to one, in favor,” I answered. “I give the same odds that Purley Stebbins will be with him.”

“As do I. I would have put forth eight to one, but I yield to your instincts involving probabilities.”

“Cramer simply cannot afford to stay away and you know it,” I said. “The stakes are too high and the pressure on the department is too great. He knows damned well that if you really do have information about these killings — which of course you do — he runs the risk of learning about it secondhand in the pages of our old friend Lon Cohen’s newspaper, The Gazette — which, as Lon loves to remind us, has the fifth-largest circulation of any daily journal in the land of the free and the home of the brave. End of sermon.”

Wolfe allowed himself a look of satisfaction and rang for beer. I felt pretty satisfied myself, although I was beginning to get a case of nerves, which always happens to me when we have one of these wingdings.

Not so with Wolfe, who seems to thrive on the drama and the tension. But then, he’s the stage manager and has full control of the production.