If Death Ever Slept

We had just started on the avocado, whipped with sugar and lime juice and green chartreuse, when the doorbell rang. During meals Fritz was supposed to get that too, but I thought Jarrell might have rushed down to use more words face-to-face, so I got up and went to the hall for a look through the one-way glass panel in the front door. Having looked, I returned to the dining room and told Wolfe, “One’s here already. The stenographer. Nora Kent.”

He swallowed avocado. “Nonsense. You said six o’clock.”

“Yes, sir. She must be on her own.” The bell rang again. “And she wants in.” I aimed a thumb at Orrie. “Archie Goodwin here can take her to the office and shut the door.”

“Confound it.” He was going to have to work sooner than expected. To Orrie: “You are Archie Goodwin.”

“Yes, sir,” Orrie said. “It’s a comedown, but I’ll try. Do I know her?”

“No. You have never seen or heard of her.” The bell rang again. “Take her to the office and come and finish your lunch.”

He went. He closed the door, but the office was just across the hall, and it might startle her if she heard Alan Green’s voice as she went by, so I used my mouth for an avocado depot only. Sounds came faintly, since the walls and doors on that floor are all soundproofed.

When Orrie entered he shut the door, returned to his place, picked up his spoon, and spoke. “You didn’t say to rub it in that I’m Archie Goodwin, and she didn’t ask, so I didn’t mention it. She said her name was Nora Kent, and she wants to see Mr. Wolfe. How long am I going to be Archie Goodwin?”

I put in. “Mr. Wolfe never talks business at the table, you know that, Orrie. You haven’t been told yet, but you were going to be me at a party later on, and now you can practice. Just sit at my desk and look astute. I’ll have my eye on you. I’ll be at the hole-unless Mr. Wolfe has other plans.”

“No,” Wolfe muttered. “I have no plans.”