Champagne for One

Champagne for One Rex Stout Series: Nero Wolfe [31] Published: 1995 Tags: Cozy Mystery, Vintage Mystery, Early 20th Century

Cozy Mysteryttt Vintage Mysteryttt Early 20th Centuryttt

SUMMARY: Whoever administered the deadly dose of champagne isn't talking, and neither is the victim, as Nero Wolfe searches for the antidote to the perfect crime. Includes never-before-published memorabilia from the life of Rex Stout.

Rex Stout

Champagne For One

Chapter One

If it hadn’t been raining and blowing that raw Tuesday morning in March I would have been out, walking to the bank to deposit a couple of cheques, when Austin Byne phoned me, and he might have tried somebody else. But more likely not. He would probably have rung again later, so I can’t blame all this on the weather. As it was, I was there in the office, oiling the typewriter and the two Marley.38’s, for which we had permits, from the same can of oil, when the phone rang and I lifted it and spoke.

"Nero Wolfe’s office, Archie Goodwin speaking."

"Hello there. This is Byne. Dinky Byne."

There it is in print for you, but it wasn’t for me, and I didn’t get it. It sounded more like a dying bullfrog than a man.

"Clear your throat," I suggested, "or sneeze or something, and try again."

"That wouldn’t help. My tubes are all clogged. Tubes. Clogged. Understand? Dinky Byne-B-Y-N-E."

"Oh, hallo. I won’t ask how you are, hearing how you sound. My sympathy."

"I need it. I need more than sympathy, too." It was coming through slightly better. "I need help. Will you do me a hell of a favour?"

I made a face. "I might. If I can do it sitting down and it doesn’t cost me any teeth."

"It won’t cost you a thing. You know my Aunt Louise. Mrs Robert Robilotti."

"Only professionally. Mr Wolfe did a job for her once, recovered some jewellery. That is, she hired him and I did the job-and she didn’t like me. She resented a remark I made."

"That won’t matter. She forgets remarks. I suppose you know about the dinner party she gives every year on the birthday date of my Uncle Albert, now resting in peace perhaps?"

"Sure. Who doesn’t?"