Lawson spoke. “Colonel Ryder, sir.”
“Dead?”
“Good God, yes. All blown apart.”
“Anyone else hurt?”
“No, sir. No sign of anybody.”
“I’ll take a look. Tinkham, clear this hall. Everybody back where they belong. No one is to leave the premises.”
Nero Wolfe rumbled in my ear, “This confounded dust. And smell. Come, Archie.”
That was the only occasion I remember when he willingly climbed a flight of stairs. Not knowing what orders had already been given to the corporal by the elevators, he probably wanted to avoid delay. Nobody interfered with us, since going to the eleventh floor was not leaving the premises. He marched straight through the anteroom to General Fife’s office, with me at his heels, straight to the big leather chair with its back to a window, sat down, got himself properly adjusted, and told me:
“Telephone that place, wherever it is, and tell them to send some beer.”