They've accounted for it, of course, but not in a way you can check it up to the minute.
On opportunity none of them is absolutely Out.” The inspector puffed some more. “One thing, you might think we could find some passerby who saw someone making motions with the top of that car, but it could have been done sitting inside with the door closed and wouldn't have attracted much attention, and it was night.
We've had no luck on that so far.
We found the empty bottles in the car, in the dashboard compartment-ordinary two-ounce vials, stocked by every drug store, no labels.
Of course there were no fingerprints on them or on the sauce dish, and as for finding out where they came from, you might as well try to trace a redheaded paper match. We're checking up on sources of nitro-benzene, but I agree with you that whoever is handling this business isn't leaving a trail like that. “I'll tell you.”
Cramer puffed again.
“I don't think we can do it We can keep on trying, but I don't believe we can.
There's too much luck and dirty cleverness against us. It'll be months before I get in my car again without looking up at the top.
We've got to get at it through motive, or I swear I'm beginning to believe we won't get it at all.
I know that's what you've wanted too, that's why you said the red box would do it. But where the hell is it?
If we can't find it we'll have to get at the motive without it.
So far it's a blank, not only with the Frosts, but with everyone else we've investigated. Granted that Dudley Frost is short as trustee of the estate, which he may or may not be, what good does it do him to croak McNair and Gebert?
With Lew and the girl, there's not even a hair of a motive. With Mrs. Frost, we know she's been paying Gebert a lot of jack for a long time.
She says she was paying off an old debt, and he's dead and he wouldn't tell us anyhow.
It was probably blackmail for something that happened years ago, but what was it that happened, and why did she have to kill him right now, and where did McNair fit in? McNair was the first to go.”
Cramer reached to knock ashes into the tray, sat back in his chair, and grunted.
“There,” he said bitterly. “There's one or two questions for you. I'm back to where I was last Tuesday, when I came here and told you I was licked, only there's been two more people killed.
Didn't I tell you this one was yours?
It's not my type.
Down at the DA.’s office an hour ago they wanted to put a ring in your nose, and what I told Frisbie would have fried an egg.
You're the worst thorn in the flesh I know of, but you are also half as smart as you think you are, and that puts you head and shoulders above everybody since Julius Caesar.
Do you know why I've changed my tune since yesterday?
Because Gebert's been killed and you're still keeping your client.
If you had run out on the case this morning, I would have been ready and eager to put three rings in your nose. But now I believe you. I don't think you've the red box-”
The interruption was Fritz-his knock on the office door, his entry, his approach within two paces of Wolfe's desk, his ceremonial bow:
“Mr. Morgan to see you, sir.”
Wolfe nodded and the creases of his cheeks unfolded a little; I hadn't seen that since I had jerked him back from the relapse.
He murmured,
“It's all right, Fritz, we have no secrets from Mr. Cramer.
Send him in.”
“Yes, sir.” Fritz departed, and Saul Panzer entered.
I put the eye on him.
He looked a little crestfallen, but not exactly downhearted; and under his arm he carried a parcel wrapped in brown paper, about the size of a cigar box.
He stepped across to Wolfe's desk.
Wolfe's brows were up.
“Well?”
Saul nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Contents in order?”
“Yes, sir.
As you said.
What made me late-”
“Never mind.
You are here.
Satisfactory. Archie, please put that package in the safe.
That's all for the present, Saul. Come back at two o'clock.”
I took the package and went and opened the safe and chucked it in.
It felt solid but didn't weigh much.
Saul departed.
Wolfe leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes.