The Father Hunt

The Father Hunt Read Free Page A

Book: The Father Hunt Read Free
Author: Rex Stout
Tags: thriller, Crime, Mystery, Classic
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don’t want to talk about it to anybody but you.”
    “Then it’s out. He wouldn’t take a client he hasn’t seen. He never has and he never will.”
    She pressed her lips tight and took a couple of breaths, and finally said, “I guess I can. All right.”
    “Good. You won’t cotton to him, but you can trust him as far as me.” I tapped the package. “Do you want to tell me anything about this?”
    “No, I don’t. There’s nothing to tell except there it is.”
    “I can assume it’s in your possession legally?”
    “Of course.” She was still frowning. “I didn’t rob a bank.”
    “It’s still in your possession until he takes the job.” I handed her the parcel. “It may take me five minutes or it could be half an hour. If you get tired waiting, there are magazines on the table.” I started for the connecting door to the office but decided to go around, and went to the door to the hall instead.
    Wolfe was at his desk with his current book, Incredible Victory, by Walter Lord. He probably hadn’t got much reading in at Hewitt’s and would have to catch up. I went to my desk, sat facing him, and waited for him to finish a paragraph. It must have been a long one. He looked up and growled. “Something?”
    “Somebody,” I said. “A girl in the front room named Amy Denovo. I believe I mentioned a while back that Miss Rowan was collecting material for a book about her father, and she hired this girl to help, and I met her there last week. As I was leaving there yesterday afternoon she -the girl-stopped me down in the lobby and we went to a place and had egg-and-anchovy sandwiches which I have told Fritz about but he wasn’t interested. She wanted me to do a job for her because I am the one man in the world she can trust, and I told her I couldn’t because I already had a job, and she said then she would hire you if I would do the work, and I explained that I always do the work. Of course the next question, my question, was about money, and I asked it. She said she had two thousand dollars in the bank, left to her by her mother, and that’s all. No other resources and no prospects. Since the job would be complicated and might take months and no telling what expenses, I told her nothing doing, I wouldn’t even mention it to you. I was sorry because-“
    “Pfui.” He grunted. “Why do you mention it now?”
    “I’ll finish the sentence. I was sorry because the job
    would probably be interesting, and tough, and it has none of the aspects that you won’t touch. I mention it now because she is in the front room with a package wrapped in newspaper containing two hundred hundred-dollar-bills, twenty thousand dollars, which she wants you to take as a retainer.”
    “Where did she get it?”
    “I don’t know. She says it’s in her possession legally.”
    He put his bookmark, a thin strip of gold that was a gift from a client, at his page and put the book down. “What was said yesterday. In full.”
    I had expected that. He hates to take on a job; anything to hold off a commitment. Also, there was the chance that there might be one or more details that he could find unacceptable. I reported. It had taken a lot of practice to get to where I could give a long conversation verbatim, but it was a cinch now, even with three or four talking. As usual, he leaned back and closed his eyes, and didn’t interrupt. There was no reaction even to the “pigheaded and high-nosed and toplofty.” I omitted nothing except the irrelevant chatter while we were eating. When I finished he stayed put for a minute and then opened his eyes and straightened up.
    He regarded me. “That’s not like you, Archie. It’s hardly even a sketch. Barely a start.”
    “Certainly. There was no point in going deeper with a poor little poor girl.”
    He looked up at the wall clock and back at me. “You could have-no matter. Very well. Bring her.”
    I went and opened the connecting door. She was still in the chair by the window, and

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