I opened the door and let it come three inches, leaving the chain on, and said in a well-bred tone,
“Good morning.”
He peered through at me.
“I say, that crack is scarcely adequate.
Really.” He had a well-trained voice but a little squawky.
“I’m sorry.
This is a bad neighborhood and we have to be careful.
What can I do for you?”
He went on peering.
“Is this the house of Mr. Nero Wolfe?”
“It is.”
He hesitated, and turned to look down at the snoops on the sidewalk, who were staring up at him in the worst possible taste.
Then he came closer and pushed his face up against the crack and said in a tone nearly down to a whisper,
“From Lord Clivers.
I wish to see Mr. Wolfe.”
I took a second for consideration and then slid the bolt off and opened up.
He walked in and I shut the door and shot the bolt again.
When I turned he was standing there with his stick hung over his elbow, pulling his gloves off.
He was six feet, spare but not skinny, about my age, fair-skinned with chilly blue eyes, and there was no question about his being dressed for it.
I waved him ahead and followed him into the office, and be took his time getting his paraphernalia deposited on Wolfe’s desk before he lowered himself into a chair.
Meantime I let him know that Mr. Wolfe was engaged and would be until eleven o’clock, and that I was the confidential assistant and was at his service.
He got seated and looked at me as if he would have to get around to admitting my right to exist before we could hope to make any headway.
But he spoke.
“Mr. Goodwin?
I see.
Perhaps I got a bit ahead at the door.
That is … I really should see Mr. Wolfe without delay.”
I grinned at him.
“You mean because you mentioned the Marquis of Clivers?
That’s okay.
I wrote that letter.
I know all about it.
You can’t see Mr. Wolfe before eleven.
I can let him know you’re here.”
“If you will be so good.
Do that.
My name is Horrocks—Francis Horrocks.”
I looked at him.
So this was the geezer that bought roses with three-foot stems.
I turned on the swivel and plugged in the plant room and pressed the button.
In a minute Wolfe was on and I told him,
“A man here to see you, Mr. Francis Horrocks.
From the Marquis of Clivers…. Yeah, in the office…. Haven’t asked him. … I told him, sure…. Okay.”
I jerked the plugs and swiveled again.
“Mr. Wolfe says he can see you at eleven o’clock, unless you’d care to try me.
He suggests the latter.”
“I should have liked to see Mr. Wolfe.” The blue eyes were going over me. “Though I merely bring a message.
First, though, I should—er—perhaps explain … I am here in a dual capacity.
It’s a bit confusing, but really quite all right.
I am here, as it were, personally … and also semi-officially.