smile at Dorothy Keyes, ignored the others,
came to a stop in front of Wolfe’s desk, and said pleasantly, “You’re Nero Wolfe, of course. I’m Vic Talbott. I suppose you’d rather not shake hands with me under the circumstances - that is, if you’re accepting the job these people came to offer you. Are you?”
“How do you do, sir,” Wolfe rumbled. “Good heavens, I’ve shaken hands with - how many murderers, Archie?”
“Oh - forty,” I estimated.
“At least that. That’s Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Talbott.”
Evidently Vic figured I might be squeamish too, for he gave me a nod but extended no hand. Then he turned to face the guests. “What about it, folks'Have you hired the great detective?”
“Nuts,” Wayne Safford squeaked at him. “You come prancing in, huh?”
Ferdinand Pohl had left his chair and was advancing on the gate-crasher. I was on my feet, ready to move. There was plenty of feeling loose in the room, and I didn’t want any of our clients hurt. But all Pohl did was to tap Talbott on the chest with a thick forefinger and growl at him, “Listen, my boy. You’re not going to sell anything here. You’ve made one sale too many as it is.” Pohl whirled to Wolfe. “What did you let him in for?”
“Permit me to say,” Broadyke put in, “that it does seem an excess of hospitality.”
“By the way, Vic” - it was Dorothy’s soft voice - “Ferdy says I was your accomplice.”
The remarks from the others had made no visible impression on him, but it was different with Dorothy. He turned to her, and the look on his face was good for a whole chapter in his biography. He was absolutely all hers unless I needed an oculist. She could lift her lovely brows a thousand times a day without feeding him up. He let his eyes speak to her and then wheeled to use his tongue for Pohl. “Do you know what I think of you, Ferdy'I guess you do!”
“If you please,” Wolfe said sharply. “You don’t need my office for exchanging your opinions of one another; you can do that anywhere. We have work to do. Mr.
Talbott, you asked if I’ve accepted a job that has been offered me. I have. I have engaged to investigate the murder of Sigmund Keyes. But I have received no confidences and can still decline it. Have you a better offer'What did you come here for?”
Talbott smiled at him. “That’s the way to talk,” he said admiringly. “No, I have nothing to offer in the way of a job, but I felt I ought to be in on this. I figured it this way: they were going to hire you to get me arrested for murder,
so naturally you would like to have a look at me and ask me some questions - and here I am.”
“Pleading not guilty, of course. Archie. A chair for Mr. Talbott.”
“Of course,” he agreed, thanking me with a smile for the chair I brought, and sitting down. “Otherwise you’d have no job. Shoot.” Suddenly he flushed. “Under the circumstances, I guess I shouldn’t have said shoot.’”
“You could have said ‘Fire away,’ ” Wayne Safford piped up from the rear.
“Be quiet, Wayne,” Audrey Rooney scolded him.
“Permit me - ” Broadyke began, but Wolfe cut him off.
“No. Mr. Talbott has invited questions.” He focused on the inviter. “These other people think the police are handling this matter stupidly and ineffectively. Do you agree, Mr. Talbott?”
Vic considered a moment, then nodded. “On the whole, yes,” he assented.
“Why?”
“Well - you see, they’re up against it. They’re used to working with clues, and while they found plenty of clues to show what happened, like the marks on the bridle path and leading to the thicket, there aren’t any that help to identify the murderer. Absolutely none whatever. So they had to fall back on motive, and right away they found a man with the best motive in the world.”
Talbott tapped himself on the necktie. “Me. But then they found that his man -
me - that I couldn’t possibly have done it because I was somewhere else.
came to a stop in front of Wolfe’s desk, and said pleasantly, “You’re Nero Wolfe, of course. I’m Vic Talbott. I suppose you’d rather not shake hands with me under the circumstances - that is, if you’re accepting the job these people came to offer you. Are you?”
“How do you do, sir,” Wolfe rumbled. “Good heavens, I’ve shaken hands with - how many murderers, Archie?”
“Oh - forty,” I estimated.
“At least that. That’s Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Talbott.”
Evidently Vic figured I might be squeamish too, for he gave me a nod but extended no hand. Then he turned to face the guests. “What about it, folks'Have you hired the great detective?”
“Nuts,” Wayne Safford squeaked at him. “You come prancing in, huh?”
Ferdinand Pohl had left his chair and was advancing on the gate-crasher. I was on my feet, ready to move. There was plenty of feeling loose in the room, and I didn’t want any of our clients hurt. But all Pohl did was to tap Talbott on the chest with a thick forefinger and growl at him, “Listen, my boy. You’re not going to sell anything here. You’ve made one sale too many as it is.” Pohl whirled to Wolfe. “What did you let him in for?”
“Permit me to say,” Broadyke put in, “that it does seem an excess of hospitality.”
“By the way, Vic” - it was Dorothy’s soft voice - “Ferdy says I was your accomplice.”
The remarks from the others had made no visible impression on him, but it was different with Dorothy. He turned to her, and the look on his face was good for a whole chapter in his biography. He was absolutely all hers unless I needed an oculist. She could lift her lovely brows a thousand times a day without feeding him up. He let his eyes speak to her and then wheeled to use his tongue for Pohl. “Do you know what I think of you, Ferdy'I guess you do!”
“If you please,” Wolfe said sharply. “You don’t need my office for exchanging your opinions of one another; you can do that anywhere. We have work to do. Mr.
Talbott, you asked if I’ve accepted a job that has been offered me. I have. I have engaged to investigate the murder of Sigmund Keyes. But I have received no confidences and can still decline it. Have you a better offer'What did you come here for?”
Talbott smiled at him. “That’s the way to talk,” he said admiringly. “No, I have nothing to offer in the way of a job, but I felt I ought to be in on this. I figured it this way: they were going to hire you to get me arrested for murder,
so naturally you would like to have a look at me and ask me some questions - and here I am.”
“Pleading not guilty, of course. Archie. A chair for Mr. Talbott.”
“Of course,” he agreed, thanking me with a smile for the chair I brought, and sitting down. “Otherwise you’d have no job. Shoot.” Suddenly he flushed. “Under the circumstances, I guess I shouldn’t have said shoot.’”
“You could have said ‘Fire away,’ ” Wayne Safford piped up from the rear.
“Be quiet, Wayne,” Audrey Rooney scolded him.
“Permit me - ” Broadyke began, but Wolfe cut him off.
“No. Mr. Talbott has invited questions.” He focused on the inviter. “These other people think the police are handling this matter stupidly and ineffectively. Do you agree, Mr. Talbott?”
Vic considered a moment, then nodded. “On the whole, yes,” he assented.
“Why?”
“Well - you see, they’re up against it. They’re used to working with clues, and while they found plenty of clues to show what happened, like the marks on the bridle path and leading to the thicket, there aren’t any that help to identify the murderer. Absolutely none whatever. So they had to fall back on motive, and right away they found a man with the best motive in the world.”
Talbott tapped himself on the necktie. “Me. But then they found that his man -
me - that I couldn’t possibly have done it because I was somewhere else.
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