Three Milestones

By

Parhelion

I - In the Beginning

When I first came to Manhattan, I left my old-time religion back in Ohio. Now I got Wolfe's conversation instead of sermons on Sundays.

There was still ceremony. Wolfe could pass for a dime-store Buddha. He wore a suit, and he'd lost the smile, but he did have the build. He also dispensed the opaque advice.

"What would you be, Archie?"

He darn well already knew. "A detective." I put down my fork. "Isn't this discussing business over a meal? Sir?"

"No." Behind half-closed lids, Wolfe's eyes were cryptic. "If you'll suffer the losses, you can be anything."

I grinned.

 

II - Halfway Point

I won't lie. Using the crisscross on that gangster was torture.

Fred was okay, but he'd been under the pliers before we turned the tables. Saul changed the subject. Orrie said, "It had to be done." I should've paid attention to how confident he sounded.

When I telephoned, Wolfe didn't complain. He didn't complain later. His silence frayed my nerves.

I finally asked him, "You disapproved?"

Unlike Theda Bara, he doesn't need to roll his eyes to get the message across.

"So why the sphinx routine?"

"The hangman doesn't criticize the detective." He added, "Unless the detective wants his job."

 

III – After the End

Wolfe and I sat alone with a decanter. Fritz had given up. Orrie Cather had given up, too. They'd hauled him off the stoop.

Too many brandies, and I asked, "Remember when you said I could be anything if I'd suffer the losses?"

"I do." Three snifters, and his voice was still even.

"You agreed, but this was my choice. I was tough on Orrie. A real hard-boiled detective."

"Indeed."

"I lost something to do that."

Three snifters, and his voice was gentle. "If you would, choose differently next time."

For a second, I touched his hand. He let me.

 

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