Chapter 30
The next morning as I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, a frown creased Fritz’s face. “What is troubling you, oh master chef?” I asked as he handed me a plate of scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, and a blueberry muffin.
“Mr. Wolfe is in a bad mood this morning, Archie. He received a telephone call from Mr. Cohen and had to speak with him for several minutes.”
“I must have been in the shower at the time. I know he does not like his morning routine upset, and I hope the call did not affect his appetite.”
“When I went up a few minutes ago, his plates and dishes were clean.”
“Thank heavens. That being the case, the time he spent on the telephone could not have been too traumatic.”
I went into the office with coffee and dialed Lon at the Gazette. “I understand you talked to my boss this morning,” I told him.
“Yeah, and at first he didn’t seem overly happy to hear from me.”
“You disturbed his routine, which always makes him grumpy. I’m just surprised he didn’t bite your head off.”
“He actually was very helpful once he got over the irritation of being interrupted at breakfast,” Lon said. “I got some good quotes from him about what happened last night, and they will help with the dandy page story in our early edition that you’ll get delivered on your doorstep before noon. A story, I hasten to add, that will be an exclusive. We don’t run into alleged patricide cases every day.”
“I’m happy for you. What did my boss have to say?”
“One thing really surprised me, Archie. He seemed eager to give the lion’s share of the credit for nailing Malcolm Pierce to Inspector Cramer.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Here is one of his quotes: ‘I am pleased I could be of some assistance to Inspector Cramer in this endeavor.’”
“A newfound modesty,” I observed.
“Whatever you want to call it, Cramer really comes out as a winner. I also talked to Weldon Dunagan in his capacity as a member of the Police Review Board, and he too praised the inspector. ‘It is a benefit to the entire city to have Mr. Cramer back as head of the Homicide Squad,’ he said. That must have been some scene down on Centre Street last night.”
“It was. Cramer in a brand-new suit that must have set him back some real dollars, Wolfe squeezing into a chair at least one size too small for him, and Stebbins waiting to pounce on someone, anyone. I wish I’d had a camera.”
“Me too,” Lon said. “It will be interesting to see how the courts handle Malcolm Pierce. Do you think his lawyers will go for an insanity plea?”
“I suppose that’s possible, even likely. I had only met him once before, and he seemed like the picture of sanity to me. But last night was another story. He started coming unhinged, although that might have been by design.”
“Adding to the drama is that he lives in the Dakota. We’re running a photo of that historic old castle along with a mug shot of Malcolm,” Lon said.
“You sound as enthusiastic as the kid who just pulled his favorite toy out of a Cracker Jack box.”
“Getting scoops never grows old for me, Archie. Every time I think about retiring, a story like this one comes along, and it makes me remember why I got into this crazy business in the first place.”
“Glad we could help rekindle your youth,” I told him. “Just don’t do anything rash, like buying yourself a pair of roller skates.”
“Thanks for reminding me to act my age. Now I’ve got to go to the newsroom and see how they’re coming with the layout of page one.”
I wished Lon well and turned to the orchid germination records our plant nurse, Theodore Horstmann, had brought down from upstairs. They had to be entered on file cards, one of my least-favorite tasks. I had almost finished when the phone rang, and I answered.
“This is Audra Pierce, Mr. Goodwin. I would like to make an appointment to see Mr. Wolfe today,” she said in a quiet but firm voice.
“He is not available at the moment, but I can have him get back to you later this morning.”
“That would be fine,” she replied. “I await his call.”
When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at eleven, rang for beer, and got himself settled, I swiveled to face him. “Quite a night, wasn’t it?”
He frowned at me but said nothing, so I pushed on. “Mrs. Pierce telephoned earlier and wants to see you.”
His face reflected surprise. “What does she want?”
“She did not say. Do you want me to call the lady and find out what’s on her mind?”
“No,” he said with a sigh. “Have her come at three.”
I reached her and gave her the time, which she said was agreeable. “This hardly figures to be a joyful meeting, does it?” I asked Wolfe.
He again said nothing and turned to the stack of mail from the morning delivery that I had placed on his desk blotter. No more words were spoken between us until lunch, which happened to be fine by me.
We were back in the office when the doorbell rang two minutes before three. Even with her drawn expression, Audra Kingston Pierce looked regal. I could not begin to imagine how she must be feeling.
“Please come in,” I said, holding the door for her.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Goodwin,” she said with a nod as I hung her mink on the hall rack and followed her down the corridor to the office.
“Mr. Wolfe,” she said as she slipped into the red leather chair. “Thank you for seeing me.”
I could tell that my boss was at a loss for words, so he simply nodded.
“Well, you were correct with what you said when first we met,” she told him. “When I hired you, you warned me that—and I think I have the quote right—‘My findings might not satisfy you, for a variety of reasons.’ Do you recall saying those words?”
“I do.”
“Well, you certainly were right. The decision that you and Inspector Cramer came up with was by no means a satisfying one, but I do not quarrel with it. I now want to pay you the rest of our agreed-upon amount.” She pulled a checkbook and pen from her purse.
“If you please, madam,” Wolfe said, “Inspector Cramer and I independently arrived at the same conclusion, as you just suggested, so I am hardly entitled to the balance of the commission.”
“Well, I can hardly give it to the inspector, can I? That probably would violate all sorts of laws. No, you have definitely earned this,” she said, writing out a check and placing it on his desk. “I must insist.”
Wolfe nodded again, a tacit acceptance of the money. “What are your plans now?” he asked.
“My son is still my son, and I am going to obtain the best lawyer possible for him. I already have been in touch with two attorneys, and I am not done looking, I assure you. Also, I want you to know that I bear you no ill will whatever because of what has occurred. We must live with the world as it is, not as we would wish it to be.”
“Well spoken, madam. I agree completely.”
“I doubt very much we will have occasion to ever meet again, but despite the pain all of this has caused me, I appreciate what you have done.” She stood and held out a hand to Wolfe, which to my surprise he took. To my greater surprise, he actually rose as she turned to leave!
I walked Audra down the hall to the front door, and as she left, I said, “Nero Wolfe rarely shakes hands, particularly with a woman, and he almost never stands in one’s presence.”
“Well, then there is hope for him yet, isn’t there?” she said as I detected a slight twinkle in her eye.
Back in the office, I sat and said to Wolfe, “Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe neither you nor Inspector Cramer was absolutely convinced of Malcolm Pierce’s guilt until you tricked him with that comment of yours about the Dakota.”
Wolfe looked at me evenly but said nothing.
Chapter
31
As of this writing, Malcolm Pierce’s trial remains in the courts, where there have been numerous continuances and countless objections on both sides. His lawyers have argued that Pierce cannot be charged with murder because there is no evidence that he ever hired Guido Capelli, despite his confession-like behavior that night at Centre Street.
As persuasive as his lawyers are—and his mother got him some very good ones—the current district attorney is no slouch either, and his own performance in court is probably driven at least in part by the fact that he has political ambitions. Lon Cohen feels the trial could go on for years.
Roland Marchbank ended up getting the top spot at the Good Government Group, in large measure because of the support from Weldon Dunagan. Marchbank has hired an assistant, a young man only a few years out of Harvard who has been dubbed the “Cambridge Whiz” by members of the press.
Laura Cordwell, who saw her chance to run Three-G go up in smoke, switched careers and now is employed by one of the local television stations as a weekend anchor. She started out as a reporter for the station and quickly got promoted. The TV critic for the Gazette has written that “it is only a matter of time before the fetching Miss Cordwell will be anointed as one of the eleven o’clock anchors for the channel, and remember, you read it here first.”
Hers seems an unusual choice for a brilliant young woman with a business degree and high honors from an Ivy League university, but television has a reputation for paying its most visible personalities extremely well. And if the gossip columnists know what they are talking about, it appears she has found herself a regular escort in the form of a New York Yankees outfielder who has been dubbed “Manhattan’s Most Eligible Bachelor” by a local magazine. “Could This Be Our Town’s New Power Couple?” a headline in one of the tabloids posed.
Mark Pierce has himself been in the news of late. He recently won an award from one of the advertising publications for the campaign he was working on for that brand of coffee when I visited him at his home in Dobbs Ferry. A picture in the Times showed him holding up his statuette at the awards presentation beside his attractive wife, who looked on with an adoring smile.
I ran into Mark’s sister, Marianne, recently at a black-tie banquet honoring women that I attended with Lily Rowan at the Waldorf. Lily received a plaque for her work with a local orphanage, while Marianne also was honored for having persuaded her fashion magazine to sponsor a girls’ club for underprivileged teens. The two women got along just like old friends at the cocktail reception before the dinner.
When Marianne went off to join the others from her magazine at their table for dinner, Lily turned to me. “A very attractive and intelligent young woman, wouldn’t you say, Escamillo?”
“Yes, she is quite nice-looking.”
“Nice-looking? She’s a knockout, and you know it. Or am I missing something between you here?”
“Not at all. I got to know her because it was part of the job, that’s all.”
“For some strange reason, I believe you,” Lily said. “It’s time for the dinner to begin.”
Weldon Dunagan continued to make news in the grocery business. DunaganMarts bought up its largest competitor, and the business magazines proclaimed him the biggest thing that had happened in the food industry since sliced bread came on the market in 1928.
This narrative would not be complete without mention of Police Commissioner Daniel J. O’Hara. He returned home from his latest warm-weather vacation to learn that the Pierce murder case was headed for the courtroom. He had little choice but to praise Inspector Cramer for his work on the investigation.
For his part, the inspector was suitably modest, thanking Nero Wolfe for the role he had played. “We have often worked together,” Cramer said to a Gazette reporter. Wolfe was unavailable for comment.
Chapter 32
This morning, as I sat in the office after breakfast typing Wolfe’s correspondence from the day before, Fritz walked in wearing a puzzled expression. “The man from Fallon’s Liquors just dropped off two cases of Mr. Wolfe’s beer,” he said.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked. “That happens every few days.”
“But, Archie, this was not on our schedule. We just got a shipment yesterday. We aren’t to get another one until next week. I asked Stan, the deliveryman, about it and he just shrugged. I don’t want us to get overbilled,” Fritz said. He is always protective of our finances.
“I’ll call Fallon’s,” I told him, picking up the phone. “Hi, Eddie, Archie Goodwin here. Stan just delivered two cases of Remmers that we hadn’t ordered. Are you trying to get Mr. Wolfe to increase his capacity? It’s already off the charts.”
“No, Archie, this was extra. It was paid for by someone who wants to be anonymous.”
“Really? Care to tell me who it is?”
“Sorry, you know I can’t do that.”
“Does the last name begin with ‘C’?”
I heard a slight cough on the other end, confirming my suspicion, and I decided against questioning Eddie further. He’s got his scruples, and I don’t want to mess with them. I also decided not to say anything to Wolfe about the bonus delivery. Leave it to him to figure out the identity of his benefactor. After all, he is a genius.
Author Notes
This story is set in the second decade after the midpoint of the twentieth century, and most of its settings, with the notable exception of Nero Wolfe’s brownstone on West Thirty-Fifth Street, are accurately placed within the New York area.
The Dakota Apartments, on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, where Archie Goodwin meets Malcolm Pierce, is a historic landmark that was completed in 1884. With its peaked roofs, gables, dormers, balconies, and balustrades, the structure has been architecturally termed North German Renaissance.
The Dakota has been home to many noted personalities, among them Lauren Bacall, Judy Garland, Leonard Bernstein, Rudolf Nureyev, Boris Karloff, Jason Robards, Connie Chung, Rosemary Clooney, Gilda Radner, and football’s Joe Namath. Another resident, the Beatles’ John Lennon, was shot dead outside the building in 1980.
The Dakota also has been the site of several motion pictures, including Vanilla Sky with Tom Cruise and Rosemary’s Baby with Mia Farrow. The 1970 illustrated novel Time and Again by Jack Finney also was set at the Dakota.
240 Centre Street, in Lower Manhattan, where the climax of this story takes place, served as New York City’s police headquarters from 1909 to 1973, when it was replaced by a fourteen-story building done in the brutalist architectural style and named One Police Plaza, also in Lower Manhattan. The baroque 240 Centre Street structure was converted to luxury residences in 1988.
The Greenpoint Hospital in Brooklyn, where Saul Panzer recuperates from his beating, opened in 1914 and continued to be used until 1982, when it was replaced by Woodhull Hospital, also in Brooklyn. Some of the Greenpoint campus buildings have been converted to affordable housing units.
All the newspapers referred to existed in the New York of the day with the exception of the Gazette, which has played a role in many of the Nero Wolfe stories over the years, along with its longtime employee Lon Cohen. He has been a regular in these tales and one of the paper’s editors, although neither Mr. Stout nor I have ever given him a specific title at the Gazette. Cohen clearly has a lot of influence at the paper, however. The Journal-American, whose fictional columnist in our story attempts to smear Inspector Cramer, was a Hearst-owned afternoon newspaper that in 1966 merged with two other New York dailies, the World Telegram and Sun and the Herald Tribune to form the World Journal Tribune. The merged newspaper folded in 1967.
The Good Government Group mentioned throughout the book is fictional, although similar nonprofit organizations working against organized crime and civic corruption have existed in numerous large American cities. One example is Chicago’s long-running Better Government Association.
Similar to m
y previous books, I have relied on several sources, particularly these three: Nero Wolfe of West Thirty-Fifth Street: The Life and Times of America’s Largest Private Detective by William Baring-Gould (The Viking Press, New York, 1968); The Nero Wolfe Cookbook by Rex Stout and the Editors of Viking Press (Viking Press, New York, 1973); and Rex Stout: A Biography by John McAleer (Little, Brown & Co., Boston, 1977). The McAleer volume justly won an Edgar Award in the biography category from the Mystery Writers of America.
As with my past books, I send my sincere regards to Barbara Stout and Rebecca Bradbury Stout, the daughters of the late Rex Stout. They have been consistently encouraging of my efforts to reimagine the wonderful stories, characters, and milieus created by their father and continued by him for four decades.
My thanks and appreciation goes to my agent, Martha Kaplan, to Otto Penzler and Rob Hart of Mysterious Press, and to the fine team at Open Road Integrated Media.
And my warmest thanks of all go to my wife, Janet, who has provided me with unconditional love and support for more than a half century.
About the Author
Robert Goldsborough is an American author best known for continuing Rex Stout’s famous Nero Wolfe series. Born in Chicago, he attended Northwestern University and upon graduation went to work for the Associated Press, beginning a lifelong career in journalism that would include long periods at the Chicago Tribune and Advertising Age.
While at the Tribune, Goldsborough began writing mysteries in the voice of Rex Stout, the creator of iconic sleuths Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. Goldsborough’s first novel starring Wolfe, Murder in E Minor (1986), was met with acclaim from both critics and devoted fans, winning a Nero Award from the Wolfe Pack. Eleven more Wolfe mysteries followed, including Death on Deadline (1987) and Fade to Black (1990). In 2005, Goldsborough published Three Strikes You’re Dead, the first in an original series starring Chicago Tribune reporter Snap Malek. The Battered Badge (2018) is his most recent novel.
The Battered Badge Page 20
