Too Many Cooks (14 page)

'Nothing whatever.'

'Have you any idea who it was the niggers saw in the dining room?'

'None.'

'Do you think that Frenchman did it'Blanc?'

'I don't know. I doubt it.'

'The Chinese woman who was outdoors-do you think she was mixed up in it?'

'No.'

'Do you think the radio being turned on at that particular time had anything to do with it?'

'Certainly. It drowned the noise of Laszio's fall-and his outcry, if he made one.'

'But was it turned on purposely-for that?'

'I don't know.'

Tolman frowned. 'When I had Berin, or thought I had, I decided that the radio was a coincidence, or a circumstance that he took advantage of. Now that's open again.' He leaned forward at Wolfe. 'I want you to do something for me. I don't pass for a fool, but I admit I'm a little shy on experience, and you're not only an old hand, you're recognized as one of the best there is. I'm not too proud to yell for help if I need it. It looks like the next step is a good session with Blanc, and I'd like to have you in on it. Better still, handle it yourself and let me sit and listen. Will you do that?'

'No, sir.'

Tolman was taken aback. 'You won't?'

'No. I won't even discuss it. Confound it, I came down here for a holiday!' Wolfe made a face. 'Monday night, on the train, I got no sleep. Tuesday night it was you who kept me up until four o'clock. Last night my engagement to clear Mr. Berin prevented my going to bed at all. This evening I am supposed to deliver an important address to a group of eminent men, on their own subject. I need the refreshment of sleep, and there is my bed. As for your interview with Mr. Blanc, I remind you that you agreed to free Mr. Berin immediately upon presentation of my evidence.'

He looked and sounded very final. The sheriff started to growl something, but I was called away by a knock on the door. I went to the foyer, telling myself that if it was anyone who was likely to postpone the refreshment of sleep any longer, I would lay him out with a healthy sock on the button and just leave him there.

Which might have done for Vukcic, big as he was, but I wouldn't strike a woman merely because I was sleepy, and he was accompanied by Constanza Berin. I flung the door the rest of the way and she crossed the threshold. Vukcic began a verbal request, but she wasn't bothering with amenities, she was going right ahead.

I reached for her and missed her. 'Hey, wait a minute! We have company. Your friend Barry Tolman is in there.'

She wheeled on me. 'Who?'

'You heard me. Tolman.'

She wheeled again and opened the door to Wolfe's room and breezed on through. Vukcic looked at me and shrugged, and followed her, and I went along, thinking that if I needed a broom and dustpan I could get them later.

Tolman had jumped to his feet at sight of her. For two seconds he was white, then a nice pink, and then he started for her:

'Miss Berin! Thank God-'

An icy blast hit him and stopped him in his tracks with his mouth open. It wasn't vocal; her look didn't need any accompaniment. With him frozen, she turned a different look, practically as devastating, on Nero Wolfe:

'And you said you would help us! You said you would make them free my father!' Nothing but a superworm could deserve such scorn as that. 'And it was you who suggested that about his list-about the sauces! I suppose you thought no one would know-'

'My dear Miss Berin-'

'Now everybody knows! It was you who brought the evidence against him! That evidence! And you pretending to Mr. Servan and Mr. Vukcic and me-'

I got Wolfe's look and saw his lips moving at me, though I couldn't hear him. I stepped across and gripped her arm and turned her. 'Listen, give somebody a chance-'

She was pulling, but I held on. Wolfe said sharply, 'She's hysterical. Take her out of here.'

I felt her arm relax, and turned her loose, and she moved to face Wolfe again.

She told him quietly, 'I'm not hysterical.'

'Of course you are. All women are. Their moments of calm are merely recuperative periods between outbursts. I want to tell you something. Will you listen?'

She stood and looked at him.

He nodded. 'Thank you. I make this explanation because I don't want unfriendliness from your father. I made the suggestion that the lists be compared with the correct list, not dreaming that it would result in implicating your father-in fact, thinking that it would help to clear him. Unfortunately it happened differently, and it became necessary to undo the mischief I had unwittingly caused. The only way to do that was to discover other evidence which would establish his innocence. I have done so. Your father will be released within an hour.'

Constanza stared at him, and went nearly as white as Tolman had on seeing her, and then her blood came back as his had done. She stammered, 'But-but-I don't believe it. I've just been over to that place-and they wouldn't even let me see him-'

'You won't have to go again. He will rejoin you here this morning. I undertook with you and Mr. Servan and Mr. Vukcic to clear your father of this ridiculous charge, and I have done that. The evidence has been give to Mr. Tolman. Don't you understand what I'm saying?'

Apparently she was beginning to, and it was causing drastic internal adjustments. Her eyes were drawing together, diagonal creases were appearing from the corners of her nose to the corners of her mouth, her cheeks were slowly puffing up, and her chin began to move. She was going to cry, and it looked as if it might be a good one. For half a minute, evidently, she thought she was going to be able to stave it off; then all of a sudden she realized that she wasn't. She turned and ran for the door. She got it open and disappeared. That galvanized Tolman. Without stopping for farewells he jumped for the door she had left open-and he was gone too.

Vukcic and I looked at each other. Wolfe sighed.

The sheriff made a move. 'Admitting you're smart,' he drawled at Wolfe, 'and all that, if I was Barry Tolman you wouldn't take the midnight or any other train out of here until certain details had been attended to.'

Wolfe nodded and murmured, 'Good day, sir.'

He went, and banged the foyer door so hard behind him that I jumped. I sat down and observed, 'My nerves are like fishing worms on hooks.' Vukcic sat down too.

Wolfe looked at him and inquired, 'Well, Marko'I suppose we might as well say good morning. Is that what you came for?'

'No.' Vukcic ran his fingers through his hair. 'It fell to me, more or less, to stand by Berin's daughter, and when she wanted to drive to Quinby-that's the town where the jail is-it was up to me to take her. Then they wouldn't let her see him. If I had known you had already found evidence to clear him& ' He shook himself. 'By the way, what's the evidence'If it isn't a secret.'

'I don't know whether it's a secret or not. It doesn't belong to me any more; I've handed it over to the authorities, and I suppose they should be permitted to decide about divulging it. I can tell you one thing that's no secret: I didn't get to bed last night.'

'Not at all?'

'No.'

Vukcic grunted. 'You don't look done up.' He ran his fingers through his hair again. 'Listen, Nero. I'd like to ask you something. Dina came to see you last night. Didn't she?'

'Yes.'

'What did she have to say'That is, if it's proper to tell me.'

'You can judge of the propriety. She told me that she is a special kind of woman and that she thought that you thought that I suspected you of killing Laszio.' Wolfe grimaced. 'And she patted me on the shoulder.'

Vukcic said angrily, 'She's a damned fool.'

'I suppose so. But a very dangerous fool. Of course, a hole in the ice offers peril only to those who go skating. This is none of my business, Marko, but you brought it up.'

'I know I did. What the devil made her think that I thought you suspected me of murdering Laszio?'

'Didn't you tell her so?'

'No. Did she say I did?'

Wolfe shook his head. 'She wasn't on the road, she was winding around. She did say, however, that you told her of my questions about the radio and the dancing.'

Vukcic nodded gloomily, and was silent. At length he shook himself. 'Yes, I had a talk with her. Two talks. There's no doubt about her being dangerous. She gets& you must realize that she was my wife for five years. Again yesterday I had her close to me, I had her in my arms. It isn't her tricks, I'm on to all her tricks, it's the mere fact of what she is. You wouldn't see that, Nero, or feel it, it wouldn't have any effect on you, because you've put yourself behind a barricade. As you say, a hole in the ice is dangerous only to those who go skating. But damn it, what does life consist of if you're afraid to take-'

'Marko!' Wolfe sounded peevish. 'I've often told you that's your worst habit. When you argue with yourself, do it inside your head; don't pretend it's me you're persuading and shout platitudes at me. You know very well what life consists of, it consists of the humanities, and among them is a decent and intelligent control of the appetites which we share with dogs. A man doesn't wolf a carcass or howl on a hillside from dark to dawn; he eats well-cooked food, when he can get it, in judicious quantities; and he suits his ardor to his wise convenience.'

Vukcic was standing up. He frowned and growled down at his old friend: 'So I'm howling, am I?'

'You are and you know it.'

'Well. I'm sorry. I'm damned sorry.'

He turned on his heel and strode from the room.

I got up and went to the window to retrieve a curtain that had been whipped out by the draft from the opened door. In the thick shrubbery just outside a bird was singing, and I startled it. Then I went and planted myself in front of Wolfe. He had his eyes closed, and as I gazed at him his massive form went up with the leverage of a deep sigh, and down again.

I yawned and said, 'Anyhow, thank the Lord they all made a quick exit. It's moving along for ten o'clock, and you need sleep, not to mention me.'

He opened his eyes. 'Archie. I have affection for Marko Vukcic. I hunted dragonflies with him in the mountains. Do you realize that that fool is going to let that fool make a fool of him again?'

I yawned. 'Listen to you. If I did a sentence like that you'd send me from the room. You're in bad shape. I tell you, we both need sleep. Did you mean it when you told Tolman that as far as this murder is concerned you're not playing any more?'

'Certainly. Mr. Berin is cleared. We are no longer interested. We leave here to-night.'

'Okay. Then for God's sake let's go to bed.'

He closed his eyes and sighed again. It appeared that he wanted to sit and worry about Vukcic a while, and I couldn't help him any with that, so I turned and started out, intending not only to display the DO NOT DISTURB but also to leave positive instructions with the greenjacket in the main hall. But just as I had my hand on the knob his voice stopped me.

'Archie. You've had more sleep than I have. I was about to say, we haven't gone over that speech since we got here. I intended to rehearse it at least twice. Do you know which bag it's in'Get it, please.'

If we had been in New York I would have quit the job.

AT TEN O'CLOCK I sat on a chair by the open window and yawned, with my eyes on the typescript, my own handiwork. We had worked through it to page 9.

Wolfe, facing me, was sitting up in bed with four cushions at his back, displaying half an acre of yellow silk pajamas. On the bedstand beside him were two empty beer bottles and an empty glass. He appeared to be frowning intently at my socks as he went on:

'& but the indescribable flavor of the finest of Georgia hams, the quality which places them, in my opinion, definitely above the best to be found in Europe, is not due to the post mortem treatment of the flesh at all. Expert knowledge and tender care in the curing are indeed essential, but they are to be found in Czestochowa and Westphalia more frequently even than in Georgia. Poles and Westphalians have the pigs, the scholarship and the skill; what they do not have is peanuts.'

He stopped to blow his nose. I shifted position. He resumed: 'A pig whose diet is fifty to seventy percent peanuts grows a ham of incredibly sweet and delicate succulence which, well-cured, well-kept and well-cooked, will take precedence over any other ham the world affords. I offer this as an illustration of one of the sources of the American contributions I am discussing, and as another proof that American offerings to the roll of honor of tine food are by no means confined to those items which were found here already ripe on the tree, with nothing required but the plucking. Red Indians were eating turkeys and potatoes before white men came, but they were not eating peanut-fed pigs. Those unforgettable hams are not gifts of nature; they are the product of the inventor's enterprise, the experimenter's persistence, and the connoisseur's discrimination. Similar results have been achieved by the feeding of blueberries to young chickens, beginning usually-'

'Hold it. Not chickens, poultry.'

'Chickens are poultry.'

'You told me to stop you.'

'But not to argue with me.'

'You started the argument, I didn't.'

He showed me a palm. 'Let's go on& beginning usually at the age of one week. The flavor of a four months old cockerel, trained to eat large quantities of blueberries from infancy, and cooked with mushrooms, tarragon and white wine-or, if you would add another American touch, made into a chicken and corn pudding, with onion, parsley and eggs-is not only distinctive, it is unique; and it is assuredly haute cuisine. This is even a better illustration of my thesis than the ham, for Europeans could not have fed peanuts to pigs, since they had no peanuts. But they did have chickens-chickens, Archie?'

'Poultry.'

'No matter. They did have chickens and blueberries, and for centuries no one thought of having the one assimilate the other and bless us with the result. Another demonstration of the inventiveness-'

'Hey, wait! You left out a whole paragraph. 'You will say perhaps-''

'Very well. Do you think you might sit still'You keep that chair creaking. You will say, perhaps, that all this does not belong in a discussion of cookery, but on consideration I believe you will agree that it does. Vatel had his own farm, and gave his personal attention to its husbandry. Escoffier refused fowl from a certain district, however plump and well-grown, on account of minerals in the drinking water available for them there. Brillat-Savarin paid many tributes& '

I was on my feet. Seated, I had twitches in my arms and legs and I couldn't sit still. With my eye on the script, I moved across to the table and got hold of the carafe and poured myself a glass of water and drank it. Wolfe went on, droning it out. I decided not to sit down again, and stood in the middle of the floor, flexing and unflexing the muscles of my legs to make the twitching stop.

I don't know what it was that alarmed me. I couldn't have seen anything, because my eyes were on the script, and the open window was at my left, at least a dozen feet away, at right angles to my line of vision. I don't think I heard anything. But something made me jerk my head around, and even then all I saw was a movement in the shrubbery outside the window, and I have no idea what made me throw the script. But I threw it, straight at the window. At the same moment a gun went off, good and loud. Simultaneously smoke and the smell of powder came in at the window, the script fluttered and dropped to the floor, and I heard Wolfe's voice behind me:

'Look here, Archie.'

I looked and saw the blood running down the side of his face. For a second I stood dead in my tracks. I wanted to jump through the window and catch the son of a-the sharp-shooter, and give him personal treatment. And Wolfe wasn't dead, he was still sitting up. But the blood looked plenteous. I jumped to the side of the bed.

He had his lips compressed tight, but he opened them to demand, 'Where is it'Is it my skull?' He shuddered. 'Brains?'

'Hell no.' I was looking, and was so relieved my voice cracked. 'Where would brains come from'Take your hand away and hold still. Wait till I get a towel.' I raced to the bathroom and back, and wrapped one towel around his neck and sopped with the other one. 'I don't think it touched the cheekbone at all, it just went through skin and meat. Do you feel faint?'

'No. Bring me my shaving mirror.'

'You wait till I-'

'Bring the mirror!'

'For God's sake. Hold that towel there.' I hopped to the bathroom again for the mirror and handed it to him, and then went to the phone. A girl's voice said good morning sweetly.

'Yeah. Swell morning. Has this joint got a doctor?& No, wait, I don't want to speak to him, send him over here right away, a man's been shot in Suite 60, Upshur Pavilion& I said shot, and step on it, and send the doctor, and that Odell the house detective, and a state cop if there's one around loose, and a bottle of brandy. Got it?& Good for you, you're a wonder.'

I went back to Wolfe, and whenever I want to treat myself to a laugh all I have to do is remember how he looked on that occasion. With one hand he was keeping the towel from unwinding from his neck, and with the other he was holding up the mirror, into which he was glaring with unutterable indignation and disgust. I saw he was holding his lips tight so blood wouldn't get in his mouth, and went and got some of his handkerchiefs and did some more sopping.

He moved his left shoulder up and down a little. 'Some blood ran down my neck.' He moved his jaw up and down, and from side to side. 'I don't feel anything when I do that.' He put the mirror down on the bed. 'Can't you stop the confounded bleeding'Look out, don't press so hard! What's that there on the floor?'

'It's your speech. I think there's a bullet hole through it, but it's all right. You've got to get stretched out and turned over on your side.-Now damn it, don't argue-here, wait till I get rid of these cushions& '

I got him horizontal, with his head raised on a couple of pillows, and went to the bathroom for a towel soaked in cold water and came back and poulticed him. He had his eyes shut. I had just got back to him with another cold towel when there was a loud knock on the door.

The doctor, a bald-headed little squirt with spectacles, had a bag in his hand and a nurse with him. As I was ushering them in somebody else came trotting down the hall, and I let him in too when I saw it was Clay Ashley, the Kanawha Spa manager. He was sputtering at me, 'Who did it how did it happen where is he who is it& ' I told him to save it up and followed the doctor and nurse inside.

The bald-headed doc was no slouch, at that. The nurse pulled up a chair for the bag and opened it, and I shoved a table over by the bed, while the doc bent over Wolfe without asking me anything. Wolfe started to turn over but was commanded to lie still.

Wolfe protested, 'Confound it, I have to see your face!'

'What for'To see if I'm compos mentis'I'm all right. Hold still.'

Clay Ashley's voice sounded at my elbow. 'What the devil is it'You say he was shot'What happened?'

The doctor spoke without turning, with authority: 'Quiet in here, until I see what we've got.'

There was another loud knock on the door. I went out to it, and Ashley followed me. It was my friend Odell and a pair of state cops, and behind them the greenjacket from the main hall. Ashley told the greenjacket:

'Get out of here, and keep your mouth shut.'

'I just wanted to tell you, sir, I heard a shot, and two of the guests want to know-'

'Tell them you know nothing about it. Tell them it was a backfire. Understand?'

'Yes, sir.'

I took the quartette to my room. I ignored Ashley, because I had heard Wolfe say he was bourgeois, and spoke to the cops:

'Nero Wolfe was sitting up in bed, rehearsing a speech he is to deliver tonight, and I was standing four yards from the open window looking at the script to prompt him. Something outside caught my attention, I don't know whether a sound or a movement, and I looked at the window and all I consciously saw was a branch of the shrubbery moving, and I threw the script at the window. At the same time a gun went off, outside, and Wolfe called to me, and I saw his cheek was bleeding and went to him and took a look. Then I phoned the hotel, and got busy mopping blood until the doctor came, which was just before you did.'

One of the cops had a notebook out. 'What's your name?'

'Archie Goodwin.'

He wrote it down. 'Did you see anyone in the shrubbery?'

'No. If you'll permit a suggestion, it's been less than ten minutes since the shot was fired. I've told you all I know. If you let the questions wait and get busy out there, you might pick up a hot trail.'

'I want to see Wolfe.'

'To ask him if I shot him'Well, I didn't. I even know who did, it was the man that stabbed Laszio in Pocahontas Pavilion Tuesday night. I don't know his name, but it was that guy. Would you like to grab that murderer, you two'Get out there on the trail before it cools off.'

'How do you know it was the one that killed Laszio?'

'Because Wolfe started digging too close to his hole and he didn't like it. There's plenty of people that would like to see Nero Wolfe dead, but not in this neighborhood.'

'Is Wolfe conscious?'

'Certainly. That way, through the foyer.'

'Come on, Bill.'

They tramped ahead, and Ashley and I followed, with Odell behind us. In Wolfe's room the nurse had the table half covered with bandages and things, and an electric sterilizer had been plugged into an outlet. Wolfe, on his right side, had his back to us, and the doctor was bending over him with busy fingers.

'What about it, Doc?'

'Who-' The doctor's head twisted at us. 'Oh, it's you fellows. Only a flesh wound in the upper cheek. I'll have to sew it.'

Wolfe's voice demanded, 'Who is that?'

'Quit talking. State police.'

'Archie'Where are you, Archie?'

'Right here, boss.' I stepped up. 'The cops want to know if I shot you.'

'They would. Idiots. Get them out of here. Get everybody out but you and the doctor. I'm in no condition for company.'

The cop spoke up. 'We want to ask you, Mr. Wolfe-'

'I have nothing to tell you, except that somebody shot at me through the window. Hasn't Mr. Goodwin told you that'Do you think you can catch him'Try it.'

Clay Ashley said indignantly, 'That's no attitude to take, Wolfe. All this damned mess comes from my permitting a gathering of people who are not of my clientele. Far from it. It seems to me-'

'I know who that is.' Wolfe's head started to move, and the doctor held it firm. 'That's Mr. Ashley. His clientele! Pfui! Put him out too. Put them all out. Do you hear me, Archie?'

The doctor said decisively, 'That's enough. When he talks it starts bleeding.'

I told the cops, 'Come on, shove off. He's far enough away now so that you're in no danger.' To Ashley: 'You too. Give your clientele my love. Scat.'

Odell had stayed over by the door and so was the first one out. Ashley and the cops were close behind. I followed them, on through the foyer, and into the public hall. There I stopped one of the cops and kept him by fastening onto a corner of his tunic, and his brother, seeing him stay, stayed with him while Ashley and Odell went on ahead. Ashley was tramping along in a fury and Odell was trotting in the rear.

'Listen,' I told the cop. 'You didn't like my first suggestion to get jumping, I'll try another. This individual that stabbed Laszio and took a shot at Wolfe seems to be pretty active. He might even take it into his head to try some more target practice on the same range. It's a nice April day and Wolfe wouldn't want the windows closed and the curtains drawn, and damned if I'm going to sit in there all day and watch the shrubbery. We came into your state alive, and we'd like to go out the same way at 12:40 to-night. How would it be if you stationed a guard where he could keep an eye on those windows and the shrubbery from behind'There's a nice seat not far away, by the brook.'

'Much obliged.' He sounded sarcastic. 'Maybe you'd like to have the colonel come down from Charleston so you can give him instructions.'

I waved a hand. 'I'm upset. I've had no sleep and my boss got shot and darned near had his brains spilled. I'm surprised I've been as polite as I have. It would be nice to know that those windows are being watched. Will you do it?'

'Yes. I'll phone in a report and get a couple of men.' He eyed me. 'You didn't see any more than you told me. Huh?'

I told him no, and he turned and took his brother with him.

In Wolfe's room the ministrations were proceeding. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched for a few minutes, then, turning, my eye fell on the script still lying on the floor, and I picked it up and examined it. Sure enough, the bullet had gone right through it, and had torn loose one of the metal fasteners which had held the sheets together. I smoothed it out and tossed it on the bureau and resumed my post at the foot of the bed.

The doctor was a little slow but he was good and thorough. He had started the sewing, and Wolfe, who lay with his eyes closed, informed me in a murmur that he had declined the offer of a local anesthetic. His hand on the coverlet was clenched into a fist, and each time the needle went through the flesh he grunted. After a few stitches he asked, 'Does my grunting hamper you?' The doctor told him no, and then the grunts got louder. When the sewing was done and the bandaging started, the doctor told me, as he worked, that the wound was superficial but would be somewhat painful and the patient should have rest and freedom from disturbance. He was dressing it so that it needn't be touched again until we got to New York. The patient insisted that he intended to deliver a speech that evening and wouldn't be persuaded out of it, and in case such excessive muscular action started a hemorrhage the doctor must be called. It was desirable for the patient to stay in bed until dinnertime.