Champagne for One

"I didn’t drag him in," Wolfe asserted. "Someone else did. The police received an unsigned typewritten communication which I have just quoted. And you were wrong to smile; that was a mistake. You couldn’t possibly have been amused, so you must have been pleased, and by what? Not that you don’t have a typewriter, because you have. I’ll try a guess. Might it not have been that you were enjoying the idea of Mr Gather bringing me a sample of typing from your machine when you know it is innocent, and that you know it is innocent because you know where the guilty machine is? I think that deserves exploration. Unfortunately tomorrow is Sunday; it will have to wait. Monday morning Mr Goodwin, Mr Panzer, and Mr Gather will call at places where a machine might be easily and naturally available to you-for instance, your club. Another is the bank vault where you have a safe-deposit box. Archie. You go to my box regularly. Would it be remarkable for a vault customer to ask to use a typewriter?"

"Remarkable?" I shook my head. "No."

"Then that is one possibility. Actually," he told Byne, "I am not sorry that this must wait until Monday, for it does have a drawback. The samples collected from the machines must be compared with the communication received by the police, and it is in their hands. I don’t like that, but there’s no other way. At least, if my guess is good, I will have exposed the sender of the communication, and that will be helpful. On this point, sir, I do not threaten to go to the police; I am forced to."

"You goddamn snoop," Byne said through his teeth.

Wolfe’s brows went up. "I must have made a lucky guess. It’s the machine at the vault?"

Byne’s head jerked to Mrs Usher. "Beat it, Elaine. I want to talk to him."

Chapter Fourteen

Austin Byne sat straight and stiff. When Saul had escorted Mrs Usher to the front room, staying there with her, I had told Dinky he would be more comfortable in the red leather chair, but from the way he looked at me I suspected that he had forgotten what "comfortable" meant.

"You win," he told Wolfe. "So I spill my guts. Where do you want me to start?"

Wolfe was leaning back with his elbows on the chair arms and his palms together. "First, let’s clear up a point or two. Why did you send that thing about Laidlaw to the police?"

"I haven’t said I sent it."

"Pfui." Wolfe was disgusted. "Either you’ve submitted or you haven’t. I don’t intend to squeeze it out drop by drop. Why did you send it?"