Plot It Yourself

We got home at three-fifty-five, just in the nick of time for Wolfe to keep his afternoon date with the orchids. On my desk were three memos from Fritz, reporting phone calls-one from Lon Cohen, one from Dexter of Title House, and one from a personal friend. I rang Dexter. He wanted to know if there was any truth in the rumour that the NAAD council was holding a special meeting for the purpose of instructing the joint committee to terminate its engagement with Wolfe. Thinking it would be unwise to tell a publisher, even one with a conscience, what authors and dramatists had done or were doing, I said we had heard the rumour but knew nothing definite, which was true, since we hadn’t stayed for the vote on the motion. He said if the NAAD council didn’t know that they couldn’t give orders to a joint committee they would soon find out. I didn’t bother with Lon Cohen; he could ring again. The personal friend was a personal matter, and I attended to it.

A little after five Saul Panzer called, from a booth in a Carmel drugstore. “We’ve been liberated,” he said. “Free as crows. No charges. The lawyer is at the fountain with Miss Bonner and Fred, having a milkshake. Now what?”

“No program,” I told him. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of keeping on her?”

“I doubt it. I don’t see how. I just got back from a little ride out that way. There’s a car there in the same spot we’ve been using, I suppose a deputy sheriff’s. He’s probably covering the house. Also there’s a car near the spot Miss Bonner and Miss Corbett were using, with a man in it. It looks as if Stebbins has fed Putnam County a line. About the only way would be to come in from the back, walk in about a mile from another road to a hill with trees on it, and use binoculars. Five hundred yards from the house. Of course that would be no good after dark.”

I said it wouldn’t be much better even before dark and told him to go home and get some sleep and stand by, and the same for Fred. Also to tell Dol Bonner she would hear from us when we had anything to say. Two minutes after I hung up the phone rang again.

“Nero Wolfe’s office, Archie Goodwin speaking.”

“This is the chairman of the Joint Committee on Plagiarism. You may recognize my voice.”

“I do. Was it a close vote?”