Anderson came with me in the roadster; the other two followed us in a closed car, official, but I noticed it wasn’t Anderson’s limousine. Going down Main Street all the traffic cops saluted my passenger, and I grinned considering how surprised they would have been if they had known how much the District Attorney was paying for that little taxi ride. I opened her up as soon as I got onto the highway, and rolled over the hills, up and down, so fast that Anderson looked at me. He didn’t know but what the speed was part of the program, so I kept going, slowing down only at the points where I had to make a turn and needed to make sure that Corbett, trailing along behind, had caught it. It took just twenty-five minutes from the White Plains courthouse to the entrance to the Kimball drive; the clock on my dash said ten-forty as I slowed up to turn in.
Durkin was there, across the road, sitting on the running board of the sedan which had been backed in as I had suggested. I waved at him but didn’t stop. Anderson asked, "That Wolfe’s man?" I nodded and swept into the drive. I had gone about a hundred feet when Anderson said, "Stop!" I pushed the pedals down, shifted into neutral, and pulled the hand brake.
Anderson said, "This is E.D. Kimball’s place. You’ve got to show me right here."
I shook my head. "Nothing doing. You know Nero Wolfe, and that’ll do for you. I’m obeying orders. Do I go on?"
Corbett’s car had stopped right behind us. Anderson was looking at me, his mouth twisted with uncertainty. I had my ears open, straining, not for Anderson’s reply, but for what I was taking for the sound of an airplane. Even if I had been willing to get out and look up I couldn’t, on account of trees. But it was an airplane, sure. I shifted and started forward on the jump.
Anderson said, "By God, Goodwin, I hope you know what you’re risking. If I had known-"
I stopped him, "Shut up!"
I pulled up at the house and ran over and rang the bell. In a minute the door was opened by the fat butler.
"I’d like to speak to Mr. Manuel Kimball."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Goodwin? He is expecting you. He told me to ask you to go to the hangar and wait for him there."
"Isn’t he there?"
The butler hesitated, and he certainly looked worried. "I believe he intended to go aloft in his plane."
I nodded and ran back to the car. Corbett had got out and walked to the roadster and was talking with Anderson. As I got in Anderson turned to me an(l started, "Look here, Goodwin-"