And Be a Villain Read Online Free PDF Page B

sometimes me—usually me, when I’m home and not engaged on something that shouldn’t be interrupted. So I marched to the hall and to the front door and pulled it open.
    On the stoop was a surprise party. In front was a man-about-town in a topcoat the Duke of Windsor would have worn any day. To his left and rear was a red-faced plump gentleman. Back of them were three more, miscellaneous, carrying an assortment of cases and bags. When I saw what I had to contend with I brought the door with me and held it, leaving only enough of an opening for room for my shoulders.
    “We’d like to see Mr. Nero Wolfe,” the topcoat said like an old friend.
    “He’s engaged. I’m Archie Goodwin. Can I help?”
    “You certainly can! I’m Fred Owen, in charge of public relations for the Hi-Spot Company.” He was pushing a hand at me and I took it. “And this is Mr. Walter B. Anderson, the president of the Hi-Spot Company. May we come in?”
    I reached to take the president’s hand and still keep my door block intact. “If you don’t mind,” I said, “it would be a help if you’d give me a rough idea.”
    “Certainly, glad to! I would have phoned, only this has to be rushed if we’re going to make the morning papers. So I just persuaded Mr. Anderson, and collected the photographers, and came. It shouldn’t take ten minutes—say a shot of Mr. Anderson looking at Mr. Wolfe as he signs the agreement, or vice versa, and one of them shaking hands, and one of them side by side, bending over in a huddle inspecting some object that can be captioned as a clue—how about that one?”
    “Wonderful!” I grinned at him. “But damn it, not today. Mr. Wolfe cut himself shaving, and he’s wearing a patch, and vain as he is it would be very risky to aim a camera at him.”
    That goes to show how a man will degrade himself on account of money. Meaning me. The proper and natural thing to do would have been to kick them off the stoop down the seven steps to the sidewalk, especially the topcoat, and why didn’t I do it? Ten grand. Maybe even twenty, for if Hi-Spot had been insulted they might have soured the whole deal.
    The effort, including sacrifice of principle, that it took to get them on their way without making them too sore put me in a frame of mind that accounted for my reaction somewhat later, after Wolfe had come down to the office, when I had explained the agreement our clients had come to, and he said:
    “No. I will not.” He was emphatic. “I will not draft or sign an agreement one of the parties to which is that Sweeties.”
    I knew perfectly well that was reasonable and even noble. But what pinched me was that I had sacrificed principle without hesitation, and here he was refusing to. I glared at him:
    “Very well.” I stood up. “I resign as of now. You are simply too conceited, too eccentric, and too fat to work for.”
    “Archie. Sit down.”
    “No.”
    “Yes. I am no fatter than I was five years ago. I am considerably more conceited, but so are you, and why the devil shouldn’t we be? Some day there will be a crisis. Either you’ll get insufferable and I’ll fire you, or I’ll get insufferable and you’ll quit. But this isn’t the day and you know it. You also know I would rather become a policeman and take orders from Mr. Cramer than work for anything or anyone called Sweeties. Your performance yesterday and today has been highly satisfactory.”
    “Don’t try to butter me.”
    “Bosh. I repeat that I am no fatter than I was five years ago. Sit down and get your notebook. We’ll put it in the form of a letter, to all of them jointly, and they can initial our copy. We shall ignore Sweeties”—he made a face—”and add that two per cent and that five hundred dollars to the share of the Federal Broadcasting Company.”
    That was what we did.
    By the time Fritz called us to dinner there had been phone calls from Deborah Koppel and others, and the party for the evening was set.

Chapter 5
    T HERE ARE