Cramer got up to take the envelope and sat down again. He inspected the outside of the envelope before he removed the contents. He unfolded the sheets, read a little, looked at Wolfe, made a growling noise, and read some more. As he finished the first page and transferred it to the back, he inquired, 'You say this came this morning?'
'Yes, sir.'
He had no more to say or to ask until he got to the end. Wolfe leaned back, shut his eyes, and relaxed. I kept my eyes open. I kept them on Cramer's face, but all I saw was a man so intent and absorbed that he had no expression at all. When he finished he went back to a place on the third or fourth page and read it over. Then he looked at Wolfe, with his h'ps tightened to a thin line.
'You got this three hours ago,' he muttered.
Wolfe opened his eyes. 'I beg your pardon?'
'You got this three hours ago. You know how to phone my office. Sergeant Stebbins talked to Goodwin at nine o'clock. Goodwin didn't mention it.'
'I hadn't read it yet,' I stated. 'It had just come.'
'You know my number.'
'Bosh,' Wolfe said testily. 'This is ridiculous. Have I concealed it or destroyed it?'
'No, you haven't.' Cramer wiggled the sheets. 'What evidence is there that Corrigan wrote this?'
'None.'
'What evidence is there that you didn't dictate it to Goodwin and he wrote it?'
'None.' Wolfe straightened up. 'Mr. Cramer. You might as well leave. If you are in a frame of mind to think me capable of so extravagant an imbecility, all communication is blocked.' He wiggled a finger. 'You have that thing. Take it and go.'
Cramer ignored it. 'You maintain that Corrigan wrote this.'
'I do not. I maintain only that I received it in today's mail, and that I have no knowledge of who wrote it beyond the
thing itself. I suppose other evidence is procurable. If there is a typewriter in Corrigan's apartment, and if investigation shows it was written on that machine, that would be pertinent.'
'You have no knowledge of it whatever beyond what you've told me?'
'I have not.'
'Do you know of any evidence other than this that Corri-gan committed the murders?'
'No.'
'Or that he betrayed his partner O'Malley?'
'No.'
'Do you believe this to be an authentic confession by Cm-rigan?'
'I'm not prepared to say. I've read it only once, rather hurriedly. I was going to ask you to let Mr. Goodwin make a copy for me, but I'll get along without it.'
'You won't have to. I'll see that you get a copy, with the understanding that there is to be no publication of it without my consent.' Cramer folded the sheets and put them in the envelope. 'It's covered with your and Goodwin's prints now, and mine. But we'll try it.'
'If it's a fake,' Wolfe said dryly, 'I should think that a man capable of contriving it would know about fingerprints.'
'Yeah, everybody knows about fingerprints.'
Cramer rubbed his kneecaps with his palms, regarding Wolfe with his head cocked. The chewed cigar, which had previously taken no part in the conversation, slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, but he made no move to retrieve it.
He spoke. 'I admit this is damn neat. It will stand a lot of checking, but I admit it's neat. What are you going to do now, send your client a bill?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'My client, Mr. Wellman, has his share of gumption. Before I bill him both he and I must be satisfied that I have earned my fee.' Wolfe's eyes moved. 'Archie. Trained as you are, can I rely on you for an accurate copy of that communication from-ostensibly-Mr. Corrigan?'
'It's pretty long,' I objected, 'and I read it once.'
'I said I'll send you a copy,' Cramer stated.
'I know you did. I would like to have it as soon as possible. It would be gratifying to have it validated, both by your investigation and my scrutiny, since that would mean that I have exposed a murderer and forced him to a reckoning without a scrap of evidence against him. We still have none, not a title, except that unsigned communication.'
'I know we haven't.'
'Then by all means check it, every detail, every word. Dq you want a comment?'
'Yes.'
