“Go ahead. Come on, Helen.”
She didn’t budge. She said quietly, “Sit down, Lew.”
“What for? Come on! Did you hear what he said about distasteful to a Frost? Don’t you see it’s him that has started the police after us as if we were all a bunch of murderers? And that he started it on account of something that McNair said to him yesterday before — before it happened? Just as Dad said, and Aunt Callie too? Do you wonder they wouldn’t let you come down here unless I came along? I’m not saying McNair told him any lies, I’m just saying—”
“Lew! Stop it!” She wasn’t loud, but determined. She put a hand on his sleeve again. “Listen, Lew. You know very well that all the misunderstandings we’ve ever had have been about Uncle Boyd. Don’t you think we might stop having them, now that he’s dead? I told Mr. Wolfe yesterday... he... he was the finest man I have ever known... I don’t expect you to agree with that... but it’s true. I know he didn’t like you, and I honestly thought that was the only thing he was wrong about.” She stood up and put a hand on each of his arms. “You’re a fine man, too, Lew. You have lots of fine things in you. But I loved Uncle Boyd.” She shut her lips tight and nodded her head up and down several times. Finally she swallowed, and went on, “He was a grand person... he was. He gave me what common sense I’ve got, and it was him that kept me from being just a complete silly fool...” She tightened her lips again, and then again went on, “He always used to say... whenever I... I...”
She turned away abruptly and sat down, lowered her face into her palms, and began to cry.
Llewellyn started at her: “Now, Helen, for God’s sake, I know how you feel—”
I growled at him, “Sit down and shut up. Can it!”
He was going to keep on comforting her. I bounced up and grabbed his shoulder and whirled him. “You’re not a client here any more. Don’t argue. Didn’t I tell you scenes make me nervous?” I left him glaring and went to the cabinet and got a shot of brandy and a glass of cold water, and went and stood alongside Helen Frost’s chair. Pretty soon she got quieter, and then fished a handkerchief out of her bag and began dabbing. I waited until she could see to tell her:
“Brandy. 1890 Guarnier. Shall I put water in it?”
She shook her head and reached for it and gulped it down nicely. I offered her the water and she took a swallow of that. Then she looked at Nero Wolfe and said, “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m not asking for any tenderness, but you’ll have to excuse me.” She looked at her cousin. “I’m not going to talk to you about Uncle Boyd any more. It doesn’t do any good, does it? It’s foolish.” She dabbed at her eyes again, took in a long trembling breath and let it out, and turned back to Wolfe.