The Doorbell Rang (The Rex Stout Library)

He kept it on. "I've got too much trade as it is, Archie. Everybody's sick. But I've got a message for you, just now on the phone. A man, no name. He said to give it to you personally. You're to be at the Westside Hotel, Room Two-fourteen, on Twenty-third Street, at eleven-thirty or as soon thereafter as you can make it, and you must be sure you're loose."

My brows were up. "Quite a message.

"That's what I thought. He said you would tell me to keep it under my hat."

"Okay, I tell you. That's why you're keeping it on." I looked at my wrist: 10:47. "What else did he say?"

"That's all, just the message, after he asked if I would come and tell you personally."

"Room Two-fourteen, Westside Hotel."

"That's right."

"What kind of a voice?"

"No particular kind, nothing distinctive, neither high nor low. Just a normal man's voice."

"All right, Doc, many thanks. We need another favor if you can spare it. We're on an operation that's a little tricky, and you were probably seen. It's possible that someone will want to know why you called. If anybody asks, you might-"

"I'll say you phoned and asked me to come and look at your throat."

"No. Wrong twice. He'll know there's nothing wrong with my throat, and he'll know I didn't phone. Our line is tapped. The trouble is that if someone gets the notion that we get confidential messages through you, your line will be tapped."

"My God. But that's illegal!"

"That makes it more fun. If anybody asks, you might be indignant and say it's none of his damned business, or you might be obliging and say you came to take Fritz's blood pressure-no, you haven't got the gadget. You came-"

"I came to get his recipe for escargots bourguignonne. I like that better, nonprofessional." He moved to the door. "My word, Archie, it certainly is tricky."

I agreed and thanked him again, and he said to give his regards to Wolfe. When I closed the door after him I didn't bother to slide the bolt since I would soon be leaving. I went to the kitchen and told Fritz he had just given the recipe for escargots bourguignonne to Dr Vollmer, and then to the office and buzzed the plant rooms on the house phone. I refused to believe they could tap a house phone. Wolfe answered, and I told him. He grunted and asked, "Have you any notion?"

"Not the vaguest. Not the FBI. Why would they? It could be that quote some prick may have stirred someone end of quote. Evers or Miss Fenster or even Muller. Any instructions?"

He said pfui and hung up, and I admit I had asked for it.