Before Midnight

If a successful party is one where everybody comes, there was no question about that one. In fact, some came too early. Gertrude Frazee showed up at eight-thirty-five, when Wolfe and I were still in the dining room, and I was having coffee in the office with her when Philip Younger arrived, and a minute later Talbott Heery. Patrick O'Garro and Oliver Buff came together, and almost on their heels Professor Harold Rollins. When Inspector Cramer and Sergeant Stebbins got there it was still ten minutes short of nine. They wanted to see Wolfe immediately, of course, and I took them to the dining room and shut them in there with him. Back at the front door, I opened it for Vernon Assa, who was still in no frame of mind to thank anybody for anything, and then for Susan Tescher, of Clock magazine. I had been sort of hoping to see Mr. Tite himself, but all she had along was Mr. Hibbard, the tall and skinny one. It was nine on the dot when Mrs. Wheelock appeared, and not more than thirty seconds later here came Rudolph Hansen. Not only did everybody come, they all beat the bell except Hansen, and he just shaved it.

I went to glance in at the office door and saw that Fritz had things under control at the refreshment table. Evidently they had all been thirsty, or else they didn't want to talk and were drinking instead. Pleased that the party was starting well, I crossed to the dining room to tell Wolfe we had a full house and were set for his entrance, but, entering, I shut the door and stood. Cramer, sitting with his big rough fist tapping the table, was reading Wolfe the riot act, with Purley standing behind bis shoulder looking satisfied. I approached. What seemed to be biting Cramer was that he did not intend to let Wolfe call a meeting of murder suspects and expect him, Cramer, to sit and take it in like a goddam stenographer (Cramer's words, not mine; I have known at least three stenographers who were absolutely--anyway, I have known stenographers).