“Let’s not be too hard on Mr. Wolfe, though. At this very moment, his brilliant mind is no doubt shrewdly processing the things you told him. I’ll discuss the situation with him this afternoon and call you. My thinking right now is that I’d like to go up to Prescott, see the place where Professor Markham fell, and meet the people you mentioned, along with any others who knew him well.”
Cortland looked troubled. I actually began to feel sorry for the sawed-off savant. “I don’t think I’d want to broadcast the fact that I was hiring you…”
“Of course not,” I said. “We can work out a plausible explanation for me to be there. Let’s worry about that tomorrow. By the way, because Mr. Wolfe still hasn’t made a formal commitment, you may want this back.” I held out his check.
He shook his head vigorously. “No, no, please keep it. I still want to engage Mr. Wolfe, and I’ll leave the draft with you as good faith.”
“Fair enough,” I answered, sliding the check into my center desk drawer. I got up and gestured Cortland toward the front door. Wolfe wasn’t the only one in the brownstone whose stomach was primed for Fritz’s veal cutlets and endive salad.
FOUR
I WAS SORE AT WOLFE for walking out on our meeting with Cortland, but I knew he was getting back at me for trying to stick him with some work. To make matters worse, I couldn’t even retaliate at lunch; he has a rule, never broken, that business is not to be discussed during meals. Consequently, I was a captive audience of one while he held forth on how the role of the vice president should be redefined to give him—or her—far more of the ceremonial duties of the executive branch, thereby freeing up the president to spend more time on the business of governing. I mainly listened and nodded while polishing off three helpings of the veal and two healthy wedges of blueberry pie.
When we were back in the office with coffee, though, I wasted no time getting on Wolfe’s case. “Okay, so you’re riled that I brought in a prospective client without checking with you first. And you also didn’t much like the resignation business. But you’ve often told me how important it is that a guest be honored—‘a jewel resting on the cushion of hospitality,’ if I may quote you. Well, you certainly didn’t treat Cortland like a jewel.”
Wolfe took a sip of coffee and set the cup down deliberately, dabbing one corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Archie, I am accustomed to your febrile attempts at generating business without consulting me. That is hardly out of character. Further, I long ago became acclimated to your periodic resignations, one of which I may someday accept. Neither of those actions ‘riled’ me, to use your word. However, Mr. Cortland’s performance this morning was patently irritating.”
“You mean all those big words?” I grinned.
Wolfe waved away my question with a hand. “Bah. The man uses the language as if it were buckshot—indiscriminately and with little regard for precision. He obviously has gotten into the habit of using a big word where a small one will better serve him. My annoyance is far more basal.”
“His refusal to suggest suspects?”
He shrugged. “Clearly, the dead man was not lacking detractors within the university community; this much we learned. The zealous disciple comes to us insisting that his oracle was murdered, yet is loath to single out an individual from among those detractors.”
“So maybe he’s concerned that he’ll finger somebody who is innocent. That’s natural enough,” I said.
“Perhaps, although his obvious enmity toward those he identified might tend to preclude such concern.”
“Are you suggesting that Cortland is a phony or a liar?”
Wolfe laced his fingers over his center mound. “Not necessarily. What do you suggest?”
I won’t say Nero Wolfe never seeks my advice, but it probably happens less often than a presidential election, unless you count