we knew Vassos. When I told him I had no idea where Vassos was he pronounced a word you are not supposed to use on the telephone.
I usually stick to the rule that no one is to be ushered to the office when Wolfe is there without asking him, but I ignore it now and then in an emergency. That time the emergency was a face. I had been in the kitchen chinning with Fritz. Wolfe was buried in a book, we had no case and no client, and to him no woman is ever welcome in that house. Ten to one he would have refused to see her. But I had seen her scared little face and he hadn't, and anyway he hadn't done a lick of work for more than two weeks, and it would be up to me, not him, to find another bootblack if it came to that. So I invited her in, took her coat and put it on a hanger, escorted her to the office, and said, 'Miss Elma Vassos. Pete's daughter.' Wolfe closed his book on a finger and glared at me. She put a hand on the back of the red leather chair to steady herself. It looked as if she might crack, and I took her arm and eased her into the chair. Wolfe transferred the glare to her, and there was her face. It was a little face, but not too little, and the point was that you didn't see any of the details, eyes or mouth or nose, just the face. I have supplied descriptions of many faces professionally, but with her I wouldn't know where to begin. I asked her if she wanted a drink, water or something stronger, and she said no.
She looked at Wolfe and said, 'You're Nero Wolfe. Do you know my father is dead?' She needed more breath.
Wolfe shook his head. His lips parted and closed again. He turned to me. 'Confound it, get something! Brandy. Whisky.'
'I couldn't swallow it,' she said. 'You didn't know?'
'No.' He was gruff. 'When'How'Can you talk?'
'I guess so.' She wasn't any too sure. 'I have to. Some boys found him at the bottom of a cliff. I went and looked at him-not there, at the morgue.' She set her teeth on her lip, hard, but it didn't change the face. She made the teeth let go. 'They think he killed himself, he jumped off, but he didn't. I know he didn't.'
Wolfe pushed his chair back. 'I offer my profound sympathy, Miss Vassos.' Even gruffer. He arose. 'I'll leave you with Mr. Goodwin. You will give him the details.' He moved, the book in his hand.
That was him. He thought she was going to flop, and a woman off the rail is not only unwelcome, she is not to be borne. Not by him. But she caught his sleeve and stopped him. 'You,' she said. 'I must tell you. To my father you are a great man, the greatest man in the world. I must tell you.'
'She'll do,' I said. 'She'll make it.'
There are few men who would not like to be told they are the greatest in the world, and Wolfe isn't one of them. He stared down at her for five seconds, returned to his chair, sat, inserted the marker in the book and put it down, scowled at her, and demanded, 'When did you eat?'
'I haven't-I can't swallow.'
'Pfui. When did you eat?'
'A little this morning. My father hadn't come home and I didn't know& '
He swiveled to push a button, leaned back, closed his eyes, and opened them when he heard a step at the door. 'Tea with honey, Fritz. Toast, pot cheese, and Bar-le-Duc. For Miss Vassos.'
Fritz went.
'I really can't,' she said.
'You will if you want me to listen. Where is the cliff?'
It took her a second to go back. 'It's in the country somewhere. I guess they told me, but I don't-'
'When was he found?'
'Sometime this afternoon, late this afternoon.'
'You saw him at the morgue. Where, in the country?'
'No, they brought him; it's not far from here. When I had-when I could-I came here from there.'
'Who was with you?'
'Two men, detectives. They told me their names, but I don't remember.'
'I mean with you. Brother, sister, mother?'
'I have no brother or sister. My mother died ten years ago.'
'When did you last see your father alive?'
'Yesterday. When I got home from work he wasn't there, and it was nearly six o'clock when he came, and
I usually stick to the rule that no one is to be ushered to the office when Wolfe is there without asking him, but I ignore it now and then in an emergency. That time the emergency was a face. I had been in the kitchen chinning with Fritz. Wolfe was buried in a book, we had no case and no client, and to him no woman is ever welcome in that house. Ten to one he would have refused to see her. But I had seen her scared little face and he hadn't, and anyway he hadn't done a lick of work for more than two weeks, and it would be up to me, not him, to find another bootblack if it came to that. So I invited her in, took her coat and put it on a hanger, escorted her to the office, and said, 'Miss Elma Vassos. Pete's daughter.' Wolfe closed his book on a finger and glared at me. She put a hand on the back of the red leather chair to steady herself. It looked as if she might crack, and I took her arm and eased her into the chair. Wolfe transferred the glare to her, and there was her face. It was a little face, but not too little, and the point was that you didn't see any of the details, eyes or mouth or nose, just the face. I have supplied descriptions of many faces professionally, but with her I wouldn't know where to begin. I asked her if she wanted a drink, water or something stronger, and she said no.
She looked at Wolfe and said, 'You're Nero Wolfe. Do you know my father is dead?' She needed more breath.
Wolfe shook his head. His lips parted and closed again. He turned to me. 'Confound it, get something! Brandy. Whisky.'
'I couldn't swallow it,' she said. 'You didn't know?'
'No.' He was gruff. 'When'How'Can you talk?'
'I guess so.' She wasn't any too sure. 'I have to. Some boys found him at the bottom of a cliff. I went and looked at him-not there, at the morgue.' She set her teeth on her lip, hard, but it didn't change the face. She made the teeth let go. 'They think he killed himself, he jumped off, but he didn't. I know he didn't.'
Wolfe pushed his chair back. 'I offer my profound sympathy, Miss Vassos.' Even gruffer. He arose. 'I'll leave you with Mr. Goodwin. You will give him the details.' He moved, the book in his hand.
That was him. He thought she was going to flop, and a woman off the rail is not only unwelcome, she is not to be borne. Not by him. But she caught his sleeve and stopped him. 'You,' she said. 'I must tell you. To my father you are a great man, the greatest man in the world. I must tell you.'
'She'll do,' I said. 'She'll make it.'
There are few men who would not like to be told they are the greatest in the world, and Wolfe isn't one of them. He stared down at her for five seconds, returned to his chair, sat, inserted the marker in the book and put it down, scowled at her, and demanded, 'When did you eat?'
'I haven't-I can't swallow.'
'Pfui. When did you eat?'
'A little this morning. My father hadn't come home and I didn't know& '
He swiveled to push a button, leaned back, closed his eyes, and opened them when he heard a step at the door. 'Tea with honey, Fritz. Toast, pot cheese, and Bar-le-Duc. For Miss Vassos.'
Fritz went.
'I really can't,' she said.
'You will if you want me to listen. Where is the cliff?'
It took her a second to go back. 'It's in the country somewhere. I guess they told me, but I don't-'
'When was he found?'
'Sometime this afternoon, late this afternoon.'
'You saw him at the morgue. Where, in the country?'
'No, they brought him; it's not far from here. When I had-when I could-I came here from there.'
'Who was with you?'
'Two men, detectives. They told me their names, but I don't remember.'
'I mean with you. Brother, sister, mother?'
'I have no brother or sister. My mother died ten years ago.'
'When did you last see your father alive?'
'Yesterday. When I got home from work he wasn't there, and it was nearly six o'clock when he came, and
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