The doorbell rang. I got up and went for it. I might have left it to Fritz, but I was glad of an excuse to walk out on Wolfe’s objectionable remarks. The panel in our entrance door is one-way glass, permitting us to see out but not the outsider to see in, and on my way down the hall I flipped the switch for the stoop light to get a look.
One glance was enough, but I took a step for another one before turning, marching back to the office, and telling Wolfe, “You may remember that you instructed me to get six people down here — as many of them as possible, you said. They’re here. Out on the stoop. Shall I tell them you’re sleepy?”
“All of them?”
“Yes, sir.”
Wolfe threw his head back and laughed. He did that about once a year. When it had tapered off to a chuckle he spoke.
“Marko, will you leave by way of the front room? Through that door. Your presence might embarrass them. Bring them in, Archie.”
I went back out, pulled the door wide open, and greeted them.
“Hello there! Come on in.”
“You goddam rat,” Mortimer snarled at me through his teeth.