“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but that’s not so unusual either, is it? Or such a bad thing for the university?”
“Maybe not,” Cortland conceded, twitching. “If it’s accompanied by a genuine respect for scholarship and research, uh, things that all schools aspiring to greatness should stress. But Potter desires, in effect, to upraise a monument to himself. That goal easily eclipses any desire on his part to improve the facilities purely for academic reasons.”
I was itching to ask if the ends didn’t justify the means, but Wolfe would be coming down from the plant rooms soon, so I pushed on. “How did Potter’s obsession with buildings affect his relationship with Markham?”
Cortland sniffed. “Ah, yes, I was about to get to that, wasn’t I? Potter had fastened onto Leander Bach and was working to get a bequest out of him—a considerable one. I assume you know who Bach is?” I could tell by his tone that I’d shaken his faith in my grasp of current events.
“The eccentric multimillionaire?”
“That’s one way of describing the man. I prefer to think of him as left-leaning to the point of irrationality. And that was the rub: The talk all over campus was that Bach wouldn’t give a cent of his millions to the school as long as Hale was on the faculty. He had the gall to call Hale a Neanderthal.”
I stifled a smile, then shot a glance at my watch. “Mr. Wolfe will be down soon,” I said. “And I—”
“Yes, I’ve been monitoring the time, as well,” Cortland cut in. “And we’ve still got six minutes. Mr. Goodwin, as you can appreciate, my stipend as a university professor hardly qualifies me as a plutocrat. However, I’ve had the good fortune to inherit a substantial amount from my family. Because of that, I can comfortably afford Mr. Wolfe’s fees, which I’m well aware are thought by some to border on extortionate. And I can assure you that this check,” he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his crazy-quilt sportcoat, “has the pecuniary financial condition, feel free to call Cyrus Griffin, president of the First Citizens Bank of Prescott. I’ll supply you with the number.”
“Not necessary,” I said, holding up a hand and studying the check, drawn on Mr. Griffin’s bank and made out to Nero Wolfe in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars.
“That’s just a good-faith retainer,” Cortland said. “To show Mr. Wolfe—and you—that I’m earnest. I will be happy to match that amount on the completion of Mr. Wolfe’s investigation, regardless, of its eventuation.”
I tapped the check with a finger. Our bank balance could use this kind of nourishment—we hadn’t pulled in a big fee in almost three months, and I was beginning to worry, even if the big panjandrum wasn’t. But then, he almost never deigned to look at the checkbook. Such concerns were beneath him. Even if Wolfe refused to take Cortland on as a client, though, it would be instructive to see his reaction to somebody else who tosses around four-syllable, ten-dollar words like he does.
Maybe I could talk somebody into making a syndicated TV show out of their conversations and call it “The Battle of the Dictionary Dinosaurs.” All right, so I was getting carried away, but what the hell, it would be fun to see these guys go at it. Besides, I’d pay admission to watch Wolfe’s reaction to Cortland’s mid-sentence ramblings.
“Okay, I’ll hang onto this for now,” I said to the little professor. “It may help me get Mr. Wolfe to see you, but I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll have to ask you to wait in the front room while we talk. If things go badly—and I always refuse to predict how he’ll react—you may not get to see him, at least not today. But I’ll try.”
“I’m more than willing to remain here and plead my case with him directly.” Cortland squared his narrow shoulders.
“Trust me. This is the best way to handle the situation. Now let’s get you settled.” I opened the soundproofed door and escorted the professor into the front room, then went down the hall to the kitchen to let Fritz know we had a guest so that he would monitor the situation. It simply wouldn’t do to have people wandering through the brownstone.
That done, I returned to the office, where I just had time to get settled at my desk when the rumble of the elevator told me Wolfe was on his way down from the roof.
Characters and events in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental. If the name of any actual person has been given to any character it was unintentional and coincidental.
TOO MANY COOKS
A Bantam Book / published by arrangement with the author
Bantam edition / May 1983
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1938, 1966 by Rex Stout.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-75627-5
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 666 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10103.
v3.0_r1
Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 05 Page 24
