Wolfe and Archie

[katallison]

For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Archie and Wolfe had a spat, after which Archie went hareing off on his own to investigate a murder, and got picked up and brought in by the cops. After long hours in custody, he goes wandering through the precinct station to find a phone, and hears a familiar voice from behind a not-quite-closed door:

~~~~~~~~~~
"...When Mr. Goodwin said that I was not concerned in this matter and that he was acting solely in his own personal interest, he was telling the truth. As you may know, he is not indifferent to those attributes of young women that constitute the chief reliance of our race in our gallant struggle against the menace of the insects. He is especially vulnerable to young women who possess not only those more obvious charms but also have a knack of stimulating his love of chivalry and adventure and his preoccupation with the picturesque and the passionate. Priscilla Eads was such a woman. She spent some time with Mr. Goodwin yesterday; he locked her in a bedroom of my house. Within three hours of her eviction by him at my behest, she was brutally murdered. I will not say that the effect on him amounted to derangement, but it was considerable. He bounded out of my house like a man possessed, after telling me that he was going single-handed after a murderer, and after arming himself. It was pathetic, but it was also humane, romantic, and thoroughly admirable, and your callous and churlish treatment of him leaves me with no alternative. I am at his service. He is my client."

Rowcliff's voice blurted incredulously, "You mean Archie Goodwin is your client?"

The dry cutting voice of Bowen, the DA, put in, "All that rigmarole was leading up to that?"

I pushed the door open and stepped in.

Eight pairs of eyes came at me. Besides Wolfe, Bowen, Cramer and Rowcliff, there were the two who had been pecking at me previously, and two others, strangers. I crossed toward Wolfe. It had been desirable to let him know that I had heard what he said before witnesses, but it was equally desirable to make it plain that his new client had the warmest appreciation of the honor.

"I'm hungry," I told him. "I had a soda-fountain lunch and I could eat a porcupine with quills on. Let's go home."

His reaction was humane, romantic, and thoroughly admirable. As if we had rehearsed it a dozen times, he arose without a word, got his hat and stick from a nearby table, came over and gave me a pat on the shoulder, growled at the audience, "A paradise for puerility," and turned and headed for the door. No one moved to intercept us.
~~~~~~~~~

They. Are. *Adorable.*

(And god, Wolfe would *kill* me for that.)

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[aerye.livejournal.com]

My SiB! This is the same book I'm on! Serendipity and glee.

See you soon!