Murder by the Book

I got the Manhattan phone book, turned the pages, and found it. Then, to check, I went and unlocked the filing cabinet, got out the Wellman folder, and fingered through the papers. I announced, "Corrigan lives at one-forty-five East Thirty-sixth Street. Phelps lives at three-seventeen Central

Park West. Kustin lives at nine-sixty-six Park Avenue. Briggs lives at Larchmont. O'Malley lives at two-oh-two East Eighty-eighth."

I put the folder back and locked the cabinet. "Am I going to bed now?"

"No."

"I thought not. What, sit here and wait? Even if they find a corpse they might not get around to us until morning. It would take a taxi five minutes to go crosstown to Thirty-sixth and Lexington. The fare would be fifty cents including tip. If it's a blank I can walk home. Do I go?"

"Yes."

I went to the hall for my hat and coat, let myself out, and walked a block north. At Tenth Avenue I flagged a passing taxi, got in, and gave the driver the address.

A radio car was double-parked in front of 145 East Thirty-sixth, with no one in it. I entered the building. On the list of names on the wall of the vestibule, Corrigan was at the top, fifth. I went on in. It was an old private dwelling done over into apartments, with a self-service elevator. The elevator was there at that floor. From somewhere below came a faint sound of voices, but there was no one in sight. I opened the elevator door, entered, pushed the 5 button, and was lifted. When it stopped I emerged. There was only one door, at the right of the small hall, and standing at it was a cop.

"Who are you?" he asked, not sociably.

"Archie Goodwin. I work for Nero Wolfe."

"What do you want?"

"I want to go to bed. Before I can do so I have to find out if we got imposed on. We reported this. The guy that lives here, so he said, phoned us and told us to listen, and then a gun went off or a good imitation of one. He didn't hang up but he was gone, and we phoned Homicide. We don't know if the phone call was from here, and I came to see."

"Why Homicide?"

"This might be connected with a case they're on. We have friends there-sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, you know how it is. Is your colleague inside?"

"No. The door's locked. He went down for the superintendent. What did the guy say on the phone?"

"He just said we ought to hear something and told us to listen, and bang. May I put my ear to the door?"

"What for?"

'To listen to the radio."

"Yeah, I've heard of you. Full of gags. Should I laugh?"