The Second Confesion

“Of course,” Orrie went on, “when you think of ballet you think of girls with legs. This ballet has got 'em all right; that's been checked. Jimmy is interested in ballet or why would he kick in? He goes twice a week when he's in New York. He also is personally interested in seeing that the girls get enough to eat. When I got that far I naturally thought I was on the way to something, and maybe I am but not yet. He likes the girls and they like him, but if that has led to anything he wouldn't want put in the paper it'll have to wait for another instalment because I haven't caught up to it yet. Shall I keep trying?” “You might as well.” Wolfe went to Saul. “Is that all you have?” “No, we've got plenty,” Saul told him, “but nothing you might want except maybe the item I wanted to ask about. Last fall he contributed twenty thousand dollars to the CPBM.” “What's that?” “Committee of Progressive Business Men. One of the funny fronts. It was for Henry Wallace for President.” “Indeed.” Wolfe's eyes, which had been nearly closed, had opened a little. Tell me about it.” “I can't tell you much, because it was afternoon when I scared it up. Apparently nobody was supposed to know about the contribution, but several people do, and I think I can get on to them if you say so. That's what I wanted to ask about. I had a break and got a line on a man in the furniture business who was pro-Wallace at first but later broke loose. He claims to know all about Sperling's contribution. He says Sperling made it in a personal cheque for twenty thousand, which he gave to a man named Caldecott one Thursday evening, and the next morning Sperling came to the CPBM office and wanted his cheque back. He wanted to give it in cash instead of a cheque. But he was too late because the cheque had already been deposited. And here's what I thought made it interesting: this man says that since the first of the year photostats of three different cheques-contributions from three other people-have turned up in peculiar circumstances. One of them was his own cheque, for two thousand dollars, but he wouldn't give me the names of the other two.” Wolfe's brow was wrinkled. “Does he say that the people running the organization had the photostats made for later use-in peculiar circumstances?” “No, sir. He thinks some clerk did it, either for personal use or as a Republican or Democratic spy. This man says he is now a political hermit. He doesn't like Wallace, but he doesn't like Republicans or Democrats either. He says he's going to vote the Vegetarian ticket next time but go on eating meat. I let him talk. I wanted to get all I could because if there was a photostat of young Sperling's cheque-” “Certainly. Satisfactory.” “Shall I follow up?” “By all means. Get all you can. The clerk who had the photostats made would be a find.” Wolfe turned to me. “Archie. You know that young man better than we do.