“I was equipped. In my head was a picture of Avery Ballou, acquired from a back number of Fortune magazine at the New York Public Library, and in my pocket was a card. It was like the card I had given William the elevator man ' my name in the middle and Nero Wolfe’s name and address and phone number in smaller type at the bottom ' but I had added something. Typewritten below my name was the information: “There was a diary in the pink bedroom and the police have it.” It filled the space neatly. ... I may have been overdoing it. It was conceivable that not only Ballou’s wife and family, but also some of his friends, and even some of the Federal Holding Corporation personnel, knew how he had spent some of his evenings. But it was likely that they didn’t. Some of the adjectives about him in Fortune were “astute,” “aloof,” “conventional,” and “scrupulous.” I don’t swallow printed adjectives whole, but if that batch was only half right it was going to be ticklish.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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