In the Best Families

Zeck ignored it. “Goodwin, he said, “this is the most invulnerable organisation on earth. There are good men in it, but it all comes to me. I am the organisation. I have no prejudices and no emotions. You will get what you deserve. If you deserve well, there is no limit to the support you will get, and none to the reward. If you deserve ill, there is no limit to that either. You understand that?

“Sure. His eyes were the hardest to meet in my memory. “Provided you understand that I don't like you.

“No one likes me. No one likes the authority of superior intellect. There was one man who matched me in intellect-the man you worked for, Nero Wolfe-but his will failed him. His vanity wouldn't let him yield, and he cleared out.

“He was a little handicapped, I protested, “by his respect for law.

“Every man is handicapped by his own weaknesses. If you communicate with him give him my regards. I have great admiration for him.

Zeck glanced at a clock on the wall and then at Roeder. “I'm keeping a caller waiting. Goodwin is under your direction, but he is on trial. Consult me as necessary within the routine.

He must have had floor buttons for foot-signalling, for he touched nothing with his hands, but the door opened and the sentinel appeared.

Zeck said, “Put Goodwin on the B list, Schwartz.

Roeder and I arose and headed for the door, him with his brief-case under his arm.

Remembering how he had told me, tapping his chest, “I am a D, Archie, I would have given a lot if I could have tapped my own bosom and announced, “I am a B,

Mr Wolfe.

Chapter Seventeen

There was one chore Wolfe had given me which I haven't mentioned, because I didn't care to reveal the details-and still don't. But the time will come when you will want to know where the gun at the bottom of the brief-case came from, so I may as well say now that you aren't going to know.

Since filing the number from a gun has been made obsolete by the progress of science, the process of getting one that can't be traced has got more complicated and requires a little specialised knowledge. One has to be acquainted with the right people. I am. But there is no reason why you should be, so I won't give their names and addresses. I couldn't quite meet Wolfe's specifications-the size and weight of a.22 and the punch of a.45-but I did pretty well: a Carson Snub Thirty, an ugly little devil, but straight and powerful. I tried it out one evening in the basement at Thirty-fifth Street.