Corpus Corpus (8 page)

When those who ate the soup were finished, Wiggins stood at the podium.

"Attention, please, the toast to Fritz Brenner will be given by Oscar Pendelton. Let's hope it will be in the form of one of the charming and witty limericks with which Oscar regales us year after year."

As a hush enveloped the room for the first time, Bogdanovic surmised that a treat lay in store.

Rising, Pendelton perched half-moon reading glasses on his nose then took his time in drawing a small sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. He read:

"For a giant guzzler of malty brews 

Fritz cook'd up possum stews 

Or dished him up with equal pace 

Shish-ke-bab with thyme and mace.

No turde soup or oyster pie 

Beyond Wolfe's ken could lie; 

A shad roe dish was always fine 

Though a plate of eel was out of line.

Roasted, baked, braised, or boiled 

Salted, peppered, or olive-oiled 

There was no dinner Wolfe wouldn't eat 

As long as it included meat.

So here's to Fritz 

Who scorned the Ritz 

To get rich in

The West Side kitchen

Of Rex Stout's immortal hero

The hungry Wolfe named Nero."

"Bravo as usual, dear Oscar," exclaimed Henry as drinks were sipped around the room.

Dane sighed. "I'm afraid my toast will pale in comparison."

"You'll do fine," Bogdanovic said. 'Just picture all these people as members of a jury."

"You overlook the fact that my last jury voted to acquit."

"Thanks to Janus's smoke and mirrors," said the judge as he put down his glass of water.

"Mind your manners, Reggie," whispered Pendelton. "The man of the hour is heading this way."

The mellifluous voice preceded him. "Oscar, Oscar! Very well done. What a charming bit of doggerel." Suddenly towering above them, he removed his hat in a broad, sweeping gesture with one hand and with the other set his martini on the table. "I just had to come over here and visit awhile with the three most beautiful ladies in the room. And the handsomest men."

"You're looking fine, Theo," said Marian Pickering Henry.

"Marian, darling. I missed you while you were in London. I assume your little hothouse and all your devoted fans are glad that you're back among them."

"Hello, Theo," said Stamos. "How's the three-million-dollar man this evening?

"Long time no see, Nicky. Ariadne, you are stunning."

"And you know Judge Simmons, of course," said Pendelton.

When the jurist did not rise, Janus said, "I'm afraid His Honor is not one of my fans."

"Oh, everyone loves you, Theo," exclaimed Dane.

Janus bent and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Isn't this just a swell evening, Maggie? I'm thrilled that you are part of it. And I see you have been taken under the protective wing of Sgt. John Bogdanovic of the New York Police Department. Did you know that this is the man whose testimony nearly won it for the district attorney in the Morgan Griffith murder trial? I hope, Sergeant, that you are not a man to nurse hard feelings."

"I'm only upset by injustice, Mr. Janus."

"Where was the injustice? You did your duty on the witness stand and I did mine cross-examining you. How would you have it, Detective? Shall you be old Fury in Alice in Wonderland? I'll be judge and jury and try the case and condemn you to death?"

Retrieving his drink, he turned and strode away so fast that he ran into a waiter and dropped the delicate martini glass. "I'm sorry, sir," gasped the faultless waiter. "I'll get you another."

"Hell yes, boy. With two olives."

As Janus returned to the head table, Bogdanovic regarded the guests at his table. "Sorry. I just don't like that guy."

"Don't apologize, Sergeant," said Simmons as he waved off a waiter who tried to pour a glass of wine for him. 

"Chief Goldstein," said Janus, clasping his fresh drink as he resumed his place at the head table, "your able sergeant is a man with forceful opinions forthrightly expressed." 'John's Croatian."

"Yes, that would account for it. The Balkan temperament can be fiery. I could use a man with his passion working for me."

'Johnny Bogdanovic as a private investigator for a defense attorney? I don't think that's in the cards. He's committed to sending murderers to prison."

"Too bad. I like him." He reached for the martini. "I toast to murderers, Chief Harvey Goldstein, Sergeant Johnny Bogdanovic, all others who pursue them, and people like me who do our duty by defending them!"

Goldstein lifted a bottle of beer. "I prefer to drink to the cause of justice."

When they set down their drinks Janus asked, "Is making a deal for Paulie Mancuso's testimony justice?"

Goldstein smiled. "The district attorney's office turned him into a witness. He's in protective custody. My office has never been invited into the loop."

"Be glad you're not being dragged into that quagmire," said Janus as a scoop of rice with a dollop of quince jelly went into his mouth.

"Will you be jumping in on Mancuso's side? Or have you been hired by the people he'll be testifying against?" "Neither, thank God. Merely curious."

With delicate movements he took up knife and fork and cut a small piece of turkey only to be interrupted by a book's appearance before him. "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Janus," said a young woman, holding the book between him and his dinner plate, "but will you please autograph this for me?"

Taking a pen from his breast pocket and opening
Janus for the Defense
to the title page, he looked up at her smilingly and asked, "What's your name?"

"It's not for me. I bought this for my father. He's a great admirer. Could you make it 'To Sidney' and then write something personal?"

After thinking a moment, he wrote in green ink, "lb Sidney, Nothing corrupts a man as deeply as writing a book," and signed "Theo Janus" with a flourish.

When the young woman was too far away to hear he said, "Very rude of her. But at least it was the hardcover edition, not the paperback."

"If you are not getting involved in the Mancuso thing," said Goldstein, "why did you bring it up?"

"I represented the scoundrel once. For about fifteen minutes. We parted company when he asked how much money it would take to bribe a couple of jurors. Maggie Dane was with me at the time. It was all I could do to keep her from leaping across the table and strangling the jerk. We've all come a long way since that day. I can't get out of my thoughts what a splendid career Maggie could have had if she had stayed on my side of the courtroom."

Goldstein's eyes settled on her. "I guess she preferred to stand on the side of the angels."

Cracking a smile, Janus turned his attention to the turkey. "Sergeant Bogdanovic may have inherited his passion, but it's too bad he hasn't your gift for quiet self-righteousness."

Goldstein looked admiringly and with welling affection toward Bogdanovic. 'John's a good man. If I could get him reading more detective novels, he'd be even better. He's yet to grasp the truth that being a homicide cop isn't just a job. It's an art."

"To quote the scripture according to Wolfe, 'Competence is so rare that it is a temptation to cling to it when we find it.' 

As A WAITER served sherbet and sponge cake and Bogdanovic's intense brown eyes were directed not at the dessert but toward the head table, Maggie Dane leaned close. "Relax, Sergeant. No one is going to attack your boss."

"Famous last words. Mrs. Lincoln: 'Come on, Abe, a night at the theater will do you good.' President Kennedy to the Secret Service: 'They love me in Dallas. Take the bubbletop off the limo.' Dr. Martin Luther King in Memphis: 'Let's step out on the balcony for a little fresh air.' John Lennon to Yoko Ono outside the Dakota: 'The kid only wants my autograph.' "

With a little laugh that was a gust of warmth on his cheek, she startled him with a feathery kiss. "You are a gem. How did Harvey find you?"

Picking up a dessert spoon, he replied, "It was through the police department magazine
Spring 3100
, named after what used to be the department phone number. It had an article saying that the chief of detectives was looking for a man to be his assistant. I tossed my name in the hopper. Weeks went by. I assumed he'd found his man. Then I was called in for an interview. This consisted primarily of a lecture on the value of reading detective stories for real-life police. He never actually came right out and said I'd gotten the job. I found out after I'd left the office when his executive assistant asked me if I'd be needing anything special in the way of furnishings for my office. How did Wolfe find Archie Goodwin?"

"Unlike Dr. Watson, who wrote about how he and Sherlock Holmes came to meet, Archie never said, except to indicate that he'd been working for someone else and Wolfe was impressed with the work. Like you, Archie's duties included bodyguard." "Did he ever save Wolfe's life?"

"Many times. This included smacking a Cuban woman who had revenge on her mind. She'd smuggled a dagger into Wolfe's office in a sock."

"How sweet of her. Good for Archie."

"Exactly what would you do were someone to attempt such a thing this evening?" "Whatever I had to."

"Even at the risk of injuring an innocent bystander?" "Absolutely."

"Have you ever had to jump in to save his life?"

"Thankfully, no," he said, looking toward the head table as Wiggins left it to stand at the podium.

Holding a glass of white wine, Wggins said, "It's my pleasure to introduce the distinguished Wolfie who is to offer the toast to the genius whose life and legacy we salute this evening. The next toast will be given by none other than someone who is so much like both the author and the character he created. Namely, myself'

With a grin of delight he basked in a chorus of groans, boos, and catcalls.

"No, my friends, it's quite true. Like Nero Wolfe, I am-" Goldstein blared, "Fat."

With feigned indignation, Wiggins turned and wagged a thick finger at him. "I heard that, Chief!"

Goldstein winked. "I intended you to."

"As I was about to say before being so rudely interrupted," Wiggins continued, "like Nero Wolfe, I am a genius." The room hissed.

"As to my commonalities with the venerated author," he went on undaunted, "I am mad about books, food, music, people who work, and heated arguments. I dislike politicians, preachers, genteel persons, closed minds, loud noises, and oily people."

Bogdanovic whispered to Dane, "Then what the hell is Janus doing here?"

"That's why I have taken unto myself," Wiggins proceeded, "the honor of standing here and asking you to rise and join with me in lifting a glass of cheer in grateful tribute to the creator of Nero Wolfe, et al., the one and only Rex Todhunter Stout."

As one voice, the audience invoked the hallowed name.

Putting aside his drink, Wiggins began his introduction of Goldstein by talking rapturously of how the proprietor of the Usual Suspects bookstore himself had been considered a suspect in two recent sensational murder investigations. He continued, "That I immediately ranked high on the list of possible murderers and found myself eliminated much too quickly was due entirely to the efforts of a brilliant homicide investigator. He is a man I am certain Nero Wolfe would have hired in an instant and thoroughly enjoyed working with. And I am thrilled that Detective Sgt. John Bogdanovic is with us this evening!"

Lowering his head and trying to sink from view, Bogdanovic let out a throaty groan.

With hands clapping like flippers of a trained seal, Wiggins scolded, "Don't be shy, Sergeant B. Stand up and take a bow!"