His native ability for leadership and finesse did the rest.
A romantic they would not have understood, a puritan they would have rudely ignored, a sentimentalist they would have laughed at, but the contemptuous realist Lawrence, with his false humility and his fierce secret pride, they took to their bosoms.
The goulash was as good as any Fritz had ever made.
It was after nine o'clock when we finished with coffee and went back to the office.
Wolfe resumed with his book.
I got at my desk with the plant records.
I figured that after an hour or so of digestion and this peaceful family scene I would make an effort to extract a little Latin lesson out of Wolfe, and find out whether Gebert really had said anything or if perchance Wolfe was only practicing some fee-faw-fum, but an interruption came before I had even decided on a method of attack.
At nine-thirty the phone rang.
I reached for it.
“Hello, this is the office of Nero Wolfe.”
“Archie?
Fred.
I'm talking from Brewster.
Better put Mr. Wolfe on.”
I told him to hold it and turned to Wolfe.
“Fred calling from Brewster.
Fifteen cents a minute.”
At that, he stopped to put in his bookmark.
Then he got his receiver up, and I told Fred to proceed, and opened my notebook.
“Mr. Wolfe?
Fred Durkin.
Saul sent me to the village to phone.
We haven't found any red box, but there's been a little surprise at that place.
We finished with the house, covered every inch, and started outdoors.
It's the worst time of year for it, because when it thaws in the spring it's the muddiest time of the year.
After it got dark we were working with flashlights, and we saw the lights of a car coming down the road and Saul had us put our lights out. It's a narrow dirt road and you can't go fast.
The car turned in at the gate and stopped on the driveway.
We had put the sedan in the garage.
The lights went out and the engine stopped and a man got out.
There was only one of him, so we kept still, behind some bushes.
He went to a window and turned a flashlight on it and started trying to open it, and Orrie and I stepped out between him and the car, and Saul went toward him and asked him why he didn't go in the door.
He took it cool, he said he forgot his key, then he said he didn't know he'd be interrupting anyone and started off.
Saul stopped him and said he'd better come in first and have a drink and a little talk.
The guy laughed and said he would and they went in, and
Orrie and I went in after them, and we turned on the lights and sat down.
The guy's name is Gebert, G-E-B-E-R-T, a tall slender dark guy with a thin nose-”
“Yeah, I know him.
What did he say?”
“Not a hell of a lot of anything.
He talks but he don't say anything.
He says this McNair was a friend of his, and there's some things belonging to him in the place, and he thought he might as well drive out and get them.
He ain't scared and he ain't easy.
He's a great smiler.”
“Yeah, I know.
Where is he now?”
“Why, he's out there.
Saul and Orrie have got him.
Saul sent me to ask what you want us to do with him-”
“Turn him loose.
What else can you do?