If Death Ever Slept

“Now a multiple question which can be resolved into one. I need to know if any discovered fact, not published, renders my information pointless. Was someone, presumably the murderer, not yet identified, seen entering or leaving the building where Eber lived on Thursday afternoon? The same for Brigham. According to published accounts, it is assumed that someone was with him in the backseat of his car, which was parked at some spot not under observation, that the someone shot him, covered the body with the rug, drove the car to Thirty-ninth Street near Seventh Avenue, from where the subway was easily and quickly accessible, parked the car, and decamped. Is that still the assumption? Has anyone been found who saw the car, either en route or while being parked, and can describe the driver? To resolve them into one: Have you any promising basis for inquiry that has not been published?”

Cramer grunted. “You don’t want much, do you? You’d better have something. The answer to the question is no. Now let’s hear it.”

“When I’m ready. I am merely taking every advisable precaution. My information carries the strong probability that the two murders were committed by Otis Jarrell, his wife, Wyman Jarrell, his wife, Lois Jarrell, Nora Kent, or Roger Foote. Or two or more of them in conspiracy. So another question. Do you know anything that removes any of those people from suspicion?”

“No.” Cramer’s eyes had narrowed. “So that’s what it’s like. No wonder you got from under. No wonder you gave him back his retainer. Let’s have it.”

“When I’m ready,” Wolfe repeated. “I want something in return. I want a cushion for my chagrin. You will be more than satisfied with what I give you, and you will not begrudge me a crumb of satisfaction for myself. After I give you my information I want some from you. I want a complete report of the movements of the seven people I named, and I want the report to cover a considerable period: from two o’clock Thursday afternoon to three o’clock Sunday afternoon. I want to know everywhere they went, with an indication of what has been verified by your staff and what has not. I’m not asking for-”

“Save it,” Cramer rasped. “You asking! You’re in a hell of a position to ask. You’ve been withholding material evidence, and it’s got too hot for you and you’ve got to let go. Okay, let go!”