Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 46 Read Online Free PDF

Rusterman’s altogether, there were few that Wolfe had never seen, only seven or eight who had come since he had bowed out as trustee. When Philip Correla appeared, white apron and cap, he crossed to us and said, “You may remember me, Mr. Wolfe. And Mr. Goodwin.”
    “Certainly,” Wolfe said. “You once disagreed with me about
Rouennaise
sauce.”
    “Yes, sir. You said no bay leaf.”
    “I nearly always say no bay leaf. Tradition should be respected but not sanctified. I concede that you make good sauces. Will you sit, please? I prefer eyes at a level.”
    He waited until Philip had moved a chair to face him and was on it. Then: “I presume Felix told you what I want.”
    “Yes, sir. To ask me about Pierre. We were friends.
Good
friends. I tell you, I cried. In Italy men cry. I didn’t leave Italy until I was twenty-four. I met Pierre in Paris.” He looked at me. “It said on the radio you found him.” He looked at Wolfe. “In your house. It didn’t say why he was at your house or why he got killed.”
    Wolfe took in a bushel of air through his nose and let it out through his mouth. Felix, and now Philip, and they knew him. “He came to ask me something,” hesaid, “but I was in bed. So I don’t know what he wanted to ask, and that’s why I need information from you. Since you were his friend, since you wept, it may be assumed that you want the man who killed him exposed and punished. Yes?”
    “Of course I do. Have you—do you know who killed him?”
    “No. I’m going to find out. I want to tell you something in confidence and ask you some questions. You are to tell no one—
no one
. Can you keep it to yourself?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Not many people are sure of themselves. Are you?”
    “I’m sure I can keep a secret. I’m sure I can keep this kind of a secret.”
    “Good. Pierre told Mr. Goodwin that a man was going to kill him, but that’s all he told him. Had he told you?”
    “That a man was going to kill him? No, sir.”
    “Had he spoken of any threat, any danger impending?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Had he mentioned any recent event, anything done or said by somebody, that might have suggested a possibility of danger?”
    “No, sir.”
    “But you have seen him and spoken with him recently? Yesterday?”
    “Of course. I’m in the kitchen, and he’s in front, but we usually eat lunch together in the kitchen. We did yesterday. I didn’t see him Sunday; of course, we’re not here Sunday.”
    “When did you hear—learn of his death?”
    “The radio this morning. The eight-o’clock news.”
    “Only five hours ago. You were shocked, and therehasn’t been much time. You may recall something he said.”
    “I don’t think I will, Mr. Wolfe. If you mean something about danger, about someone might kill him, I’m sure I won’t.”
    “You can’t be sure now. Memory plays tricks. This next question is important. He told Mr. Goodwin a man was going to kill him, so something had happened that put him in fear of his life. When? Just last evening? It would help to know when, so this is important. What was he like yesterday at lunch? Was he completely normal? Was there anything unusual about his mood, his behavior?”
    “Yes, sir, there was. I was remembering that when you asked if he said anything about danger. He didn’t seem to hear things I said and he didn’t talk as much. When I asked him if he would rather eat alone he said he was sorry, that he had got orders mixed at lunch and served people wrong. I thought that explained it. Pierre was a very proud man. He thought a waiter should never make a mistake, and he thought he never did. I don’t know, maybe he didn’t. You can ask Felix. Pierre often mentioned that when you came you always liked to have him. He was proud of his work.”
    “Had he actually done that? Got orders mixed?”
    “I don’t know, but he wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t. You can ask Felix.”
    “Did he mention it again later?”
    “No, sir. Of