Before Midnight

"You're gouging this out of me." Wolfe was frowning. "I would have preferred to keep it to myself, but rather this than a prolonged wrangle. When you get the list of expenses accompanying my bill there will be an item on it, 'One second-hand Underwood typewriter, eighty-two dollars.' It is now at the bottom of the river, because I wanted to exclude all possibility of a slip, but I have several pages that were typed on it--or rather, I know where they are and can easily get them--and if you will secure from Inspector Cramer one of the sheets of answers that were received by the contestants, or a good facsimile, I'll arrange an opportunity for you to make a comparison. You'll find that the answers sent to the contestants were typed on the machine charged for in my expense list."

Heery burst out laughing. In the pressure of events I had forgotten what a good laugher he was, and that time he really meant it. After a few healthy roars he stopped to blurt, "You amazing sonofabitch!" and then roared some more. Hansen and O'Garro were staring, O'Garro with a deep frown, chewing at it.

When Heery had subsided enough for a normal voice to be heard Hansen spoke. "You're saying that you sent the answers to the contestants?"

"They were sent by a man in my employ. I can produce him if you insist, but I would prefer not to name him."

"I think we won't insist. Pat?"

"No." O'Garro's frown was going. "I will be damned."

"No wonder," Hansen told Wolfe, "you wanted it a privileged communication. This changes things."

"It should," Wolfe said drily. "Since you have just declared that sending the answers to the contestants saved the contest. It was to them-- advantage too, most of them. That was one of my objects, and the other, of course, was to spur somebody into doing something. I didn't know who or what, but I thought that would stimulate action, and it did."

"It certainly did," O'Garro agreed. "Too much action, but you couldn't help it."

"I should have helped it. Mr. Assa should be alive. I blundered." Wolfe tightened his lips. He released them. "Do you want me to get the pages that were typed on that machine for comparison?"

"No," Hansen said. "Pat?"

"No."

"But," Hansen told Wolfe, "we still want you to handle the contest. The payment will of course be in addition to the bill you're sending. It won't be--"