Rex Stout - Champange for One

If it hadnt been raining and blowing that raw Tuesday morning in March I would have been out, walking to the bank to deposit a couple of cheques, when Austin Byne phoned me, and he might have tried somebody else. But more likely not. He would probably have rung again later, so I cant blame all this on the weather. As it was, I was there in the office, oiling the typewriter and the two Marley .38s, for which we had permits, from the same can of oil, when the phone rang and I lifted it and spoke.

Nero Wolfes office, Archie Goodwin speaking.

Hello there. This is Byne. Dinky Byne.

There it is in print for you, but it wasnt for me, and I didnt get it. It sounded more like a dying bullfrog than a man.

Clear your throat, I suggested, or sneeze or something, and try again.

That wouldnt help. My tubes are all clogged. Tubes. Clogged. Understand? Dinky ByneB-Y-N-E.

Oh, hallo. I wont ask how you are, hearing how you sound. My sympathy.

I need it. I need more than sympathy, too. It was coming through slightly better. I need help. Will you do me a hell of a favour?

I made a face. I might. If I can do it sitting down and it doesnt cost me any teeth.

It wont cost you a thing. You know my Aunt Louise. Mrs Robert Robilotti.

Only professionally. Mr Wolfe did a job for her once, recovered some jewellery. That is, she hired him and I did the joband she didnt like me. She resented a remark I made.

That wont matter. She forgets remarks. I suppose you know about the dinner party she gives every year on the birthday date of my Uncle Albert, now resting in peace perhaps?

Sure. Who doesnt?

Well, thats it. Today. Seven oclock . And Im to be one of the chevaliers, and listen to me, and Ive got some fever. I cant go. Shell be sore as the devil if she has to scout around for a fill-in, and when I phone her I want to tell her she wont have to, that Ive already got one. Mr Archie Goodwin. Youre a better chevalier than me any day. She knows you, and she has forgotten the remark you made, and anyhow she has resented a hundred remarks Ive made, and youll know exactly how to treat the lady guests. Black tie, seven oclock , and you know the address. After I phone her, of course shell ring you to confirm it. And you can do it sitting down, and Ill guarantee nothing will be served that will break your teeth. She has a good cook. My God, I didnt think I could talk so long. How about it, Archie?

Im chewing on it, I told him. You waited long enough.

Yeah, I know, but I kept thinking I might be able to make it, until I pried my eyes open this morning. Ill do the same for you some day.

You cant. I havent got a billionaire aunt. I doubt if she has forgotten the remark I made because it was fairly sharp. What if she vetoes me? Youd have to ring me again to call it off, and then ring someone else, and you shouldnt talk that much, and besides, my feelings would be hurt.

I was merely stalling, partly because I wanted to hear him talk some more. It sounded to me as if his croak had flaws in it. Clogged tubes have no effect on your eases, as in seven and sitting, but he was trying to produce one, and he turned long into lawd when it should have been more like lawg. So I was suspecting that the croak was a phoney. If I hadnt had my full share of ego I might also have been curious as to why he had picked on me, since we were not chums, but of course that was no problem. If your ego is in good shape you will pretend youre surprised if a National Chairman calls to tell you his party wants to nominate you for President of the United States , but youre not really surprised.

I only stalled him long enough to be satisfied that the croak was a fake before I agreed to take it on. The fact was that the idea appealed to me. It would be a new experience and should increase my knowledge of human nature. It might also be a little ticklish, and even dismal, but it would be interesting to see how they handled it. Not to mention how I would handle it myself. So I told him I would stand by for a call from his Aunt Louise.

It came in less than half an hour. I had finished the oiling job and was putting the guns in their drawer in my desk when the phone rang. A voice I recognized said she was Mrs Robilottis secretary and Mrs Robilotti wished to speak with me, and I said, Is it jewellery again, Miss Fromm? and she said, She will tell you what it is, Mr Goodwin.

Then another voice, also recognized. Mr Goodwin?

Speaking.

My nephew Austin Byne says he phoned you.

I guess he did.

You guess he did?

The voice said it was Byne, but it could have been a seal trying to bark.

He has laryngitis. He told you so. Apparently you havent changed any. He says that he asked you to take his place at dinner at my home this evening, and you said you would if I invited you. Is that correct?

I admitted it.

He says that you are acquainted with the nature and significance of the affair.

Of course I am. So are fifty million other peopleor more.

I know. I regret the publicity it has received in the past, but I refuse to abandon it. I owe it to my dear first husbands memory. I am inviting you, Mr Goodwin.

Okay. I accept the invitation as a favour to your nephew. Thank you.

Very well. A pause. Of course it is not usual, on inviting a dinner guest, to caution him about his conduct, but for this occasion some care is required. You appreciate that?

Certainly.

Tact and discretion are necessary.

Ill bring mine along, I assured her.

And of course refinement.

Ill borrow some. I decided she needed a little comfort. Dont worry, Mrs Robilotti, I understand the set-up and you can count on me clear through to the coffee and even after. Relax. I am fully briefed. Tact, discretion, refinement, black tie, seven oclock .

Then Ill expect you. Please hold the wire. My secretary will give you the names of those who will be present. It will simplify the introductions if you know them in advance.

Miss Fromm got on again. Mr Goodwin?

Still here.

You should have paper and pencil.

I always have. Shoot.

Stop me if I go too fast. There will be twelve at table. Mr and Mrs Robilotti. Miss Celia Grantham and Mr Cecil Grantham. They are Mrs Robilottis son and daughter by her first husband.

Yeah, I know.

Miss Helen Yarmis. Miss Ethel Varr. Miss Faith Usher. Am I going too fast?

I told her no.

Miss Rose Turtle. Mr Paul Schuster. Mr Beverly Kent. Mr Edwin Laidlaw. Yourself. That makes twelve. Miss Varr will be on your right and Miss Turtle will be on your left.

I thanked her and hung up. Now that I was booked, I wasnt so sure I liked it. It would be interesting, but it might also be a strain on the nerves. However, I was booked, and I rang Byne at the number he had given me and told him he could stay home and gargle. Then I went to Wolfes desk and wrote on his calendar Mrs Robilottis name and phone number. He wants to know where to reach me when Im out, even when we have nothing important on, in case someone yells for help and will pay for it. Then I went to the hall, turned left, and pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen. Fritz was at the big table, spreading anchovy butter on shad roes.

Cross me off for dinner, I told him. Im doing my good deed for the year and getting it over with.

He stopped spreading to look at me. Thats too bad. Veal birds in casserole. You know, with mushrooms and white wine.

Ill miss it. But there may be something edible where Im going.

Perhaps a client?

He was not being nosy. Fritz Brenner does not pry into other peoples private affairs, not even mine. But he has a legitimate interest in the welfare of that establishment, of the people who live in that old brownstone on West Thirty-fifth Street , and he merely wanted to know if my dinner engagement was likely to promote it. It took a lot of cash. I had to be paid. He had to be paid. Theodore Horstmann, who spent all his days and sometimes part of his nights with the ten thousand orchids up in the plant rooms, had to be paid. We all had to be fed, and with the kind of grub that Wolfe preferred and provided and Fritz prepared. Not only did the orchids have to be fed, but only that week Wolfe had bought a Coelogyne from Burma for eight hundred bucks, and that was just routine. And so on and on and on, and the only source of current income was people with problems who were able and willing to pay a detective to handle them. Fritz knew we had no case going at the moment, and he was only asking if my dinner date might lead to one.