The Second Confesion

“You earned it,” he said. Tm glad I hired you.” Wolfe took the paper, lowered his eyes to it, and looked up. “Indeed,” he said.

“Fifty thousand dollars.” Sperling nodded, as I nod to a bootblack when I tip him a dime. “Added to five makes fifty-five. If it doesn't cover your damage and expenses and fee, send me a bill.” “Thank you, I'll do that. Of course I can't tell what expenses are still to come. I may-” “Expenses of what?” “Of my investigation of Mr Rony's death. I may-” “What is there to investigate?” “I don't know.” Wolfe put the cheque in his pocket. “I may be easily satisfied.

I'd like to ask Mr Kane a few questions.” “What for? Why should you?” “Why shouldn't I?” Wolfe was bland. “Surely I'm entitled to as many as Mr Archer. Does he object to answering a dozen questions? Do you, Mr Kane?” “Certainly not.” “Good. I'll make it brief, but I do wish you'd sit down.” Kane sat, but on the edge of the chair. Sperling did not concede that much. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at Wolfe with no admiration.

“First,” Wolfe asked, “how did you determine that Mr Rony was dead?” “My God, you should have seen him!” “But I didn't; and you couldn't have seen him any too well, since it was nearly dark. Did you put your hand inside and feel his heart?” Kane shook his head. I wasn't surprised he didn't nod it, since I had learned for myself that Rony's upper torso had been in no condition for that test, with his clothes all mixed up with his ribs. That was how I had described it to Wolfe.

“I didn't have to,” Kane said. “He was all smashed.” “Could you see how badly he was smashed, in the dark?” “I could feel it. Anyhow it wasn't pitch dark-I could see some.” “I suppose you could see a bone, since bones are white. I understand that a humerus-the bone of the upper arm-had torn through the flesh and the clothing and was protruding several inches. Which arm was it?” That was a pure lie. He understood no such thing, and it wasn't true.