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used her key and we entered, the inside was no better. She said, 'Up three flights,' and went to the stairs, and I followed. I admit I thought she was overdoing it a little. She might at least have said something like, 'When I got a job I thought we ought to move, but my father didn't want to,' just casually. Not a word.
    On the third landing she started down the hall toward the rear, stopped after a couple of steps, and said, 'Why, the light's on!'
    I was at her elbow. I whispered, 'Which door?' She pointed to the right, to where a strip of light showed through the crack at the bottom of a door. I whispered, 'Is there a bell?' and she whispered back, 'It isn't working.' I went to the door and knocked on it, and after a short wait it opened, and facing me was a man about my height with a broad flat face and a lot of tousled brown hair.
    'Good evening,' I said.
    'Where's Miss Vassos?' he said. 'Are you a police- Oh! Thank God!'
    Elma was there. 'But you-how did you-this is Mr. Busch, Mr. Goodwin.'
    'I seem to be& ' he let it hang, apparently undecided how he seemed to be. He looked at me and back at her.
    'I'll trade you even,' I said. 'I'll tell you why I'm here if you'll tell me why you're here. I came to carry a bag of clothes and accessories for Miss Vassos. She is staying at Nero Wolfe's house on Thirty-fifth Street. My name is Archie Goodwin and I work for him. Your turn.'
    'Nero Wolfe the detective?'
    'Right.'
    He went to her. 'You're staying at his house?'
    'Yes.'
    'You were there last night and today?'
    'Yes.'
    'I wish you had let me know. I came here from the office, I just got here. I was here last night. I got the janitor to let me in; he's worried too. I was afraid you might-I'm glad to see-I thought perhaps& '
    'I guess I should have phoned,' she said.
    'Yes, I wish you had; then at least I would have known& '
    He didn't sound much like Paladin. Or even an office manager. 'If you don't mind,' I said, 'Miss Vassos would like to come in and pack a bag. She has hired Nero Wolfe to find out who killed Dennis Ashby, and she'll stay at his house until he does. Of course, since you think her father killed Ashby, I don't suppose-'
    'I don't think her father killed Ashby.'
    'No'Then why did you tell the police that he had found out that Ashby had seduced her?'
    He hauled off and swung at me. He meant well, but was so slow that I could have landed a poke while he was still on his backswing. Elma was quicker, jumping between us. He was going through with it anyhow, looping around her, and he would finally have reached the target if I had moved my head eight inches to the left and waited till he got there, but instead I caught his wrist and jerked it down and gave it a twist. That twist hurts, but he didn't squeak. Elma, between us, turned to face me, protesting, 'I told you he wouldn't!'
    'I didn't,' he said.
    'Do you know who did?'
    'No.'
    'Okay, you can come along for a talk with Nero Wolfe. You can carry her bag. If there are two, we'll each take one. Go ahead, Miss Vassos, I won't let him hurt me. If he gets me down I'll yell.'
    She slipped in past him. Busch looked at his wrist and felt at it, and I told him it might swell a little. He turned and went inside, and I followed. It was a medium-sized room, very neat, good enough chairs and nice plain rugs, a TV set in a corner, magazines on a table, shelves with books. A framed picture on top of the book shelves looked familiar and I crossed over, and darned if it wasn't Wolfe on the cover of Tick magazine. That had been more than a year ago. I allowed myself a healthy grin as I thought of how Sergeant Stebbins, or anyone else from Homicide, had felt when he came to have a look at the home of a murderer and found a picture of Nero Wolfe in a place of honor. I would have liked to take it and show it to Wolfe. I had heard him quote what someone said, that no man is a hero to his valet, but apparently he could be to his bootblack.
    When Elma came out of an inner room with a