I'm going to keep on yelling. For once I'll be damned if I'm going to stand in line out on the sidewalk until you decide to open the doors and let us in to see the show. There's no reason in God's world why you shouldn't produce that red box right now and let me have a hand in it.
I'm not trying to shove you off from a fee; go to it; I'm for you. But I'm the head of the Homicide Squad of the City of New York, and I'm sick and tired of you playing Godalmighty with any evidence and any clues and any facts and any witnesses-and anything you may happen to think you need for a while-nothing doing! Not this time! Not on your life!”
Wolfe murmured mildly, “Let me know when you're through.”
“I'm not going to be through.”
“Yes, you are. Sooner than you think. You're playing in bad luck, Mr. Cramer. In demanding that I produce Mr. McNair's red box, you have chosen the worst possible moment for bringing up your reserves and battering down the fort. I confess that I have on occasions quibbled with you and played with double meanings, but you have never known me to tell you a direct and categorical lie.
Never, sir. I tell you now that I have never seen Mr. McNair's red box, I have no idea where it is or was, and I have no knowledge whatever of its contents. So please don't yell at me like that.”
Cramer was staring, with his jaw loose. Being that he was usually so masterful, he looked so remarkable with his jaw hanging that I thought it wouldn't hurt him any for me to show him how sympathetic I felt, so with my pencil in one hand and the notebook in the other, I raised them both high above my head, opened my mouth and expanded my chest, and executed a major yawn. He saw me, but he didn't throw his cigar at me, because he actually was stunned. Finally he shaped words for Wolfe:
“You mean that straight? You haven't got it?”
“I have not.”
“You don't know where it is? You don't know what's in it?”
“I do not.”
“Then why did he say yesterday in his will he had told you where it was?”
“He intended to. He was anticipating.”
“He never told you?”
Wolfe frowned. “Confound it, sir! Leave redundancy to music and cross-examinations. I am not playing you a tune, and I don't like to be badgered.”
Ash fell from Cramer's cigar to the rug. He paid no attention to it. He muttered, “I'll be damned,” and sank back in his chair. I considered it a good spot for another yawn, but almost got startled into lockjaw in the middle of it when Cramer suddenly exploded at me savagely: “For God's sake fall in it, you clown!”
I expostulated with him: “Good heavens, Inspector, a fellow can't help it if he has to-”
“Shut up!” He sat and looked silly. That was about to get monotonous when he went plaintive with Wolfe: “This is a healthy smack, all right. I didn't know you had me buffaloed as bad as that. I've got so used to you having rabbits in your hat that I was taking two things for granted as a sure bet First, that the answer to this case is in that red box. Second, that you had it or knew where it was. Now you tell me number two is out. All right, I believe you. How about number one?”
Wolfe nodded. “I would agree. A sure bet, I think, that if we had the contents of the red box we would know who tried to kill Mr. McNair a week ago Monday, and who did kill him yesterday.” Wolfe compressed his lips a moment and then added,
“Killed him here. In my office. In my presence.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Cramer poked his cigar in the tray. “For you that's what makes it a crime instead of a case.” He turned abruptly to me: “Would you get my office on the phone?”
I swiveled to my desk and pulled the instrument across and dialed. I got the number, and the extension, and asked them to hold it, and vacated my chair.
Cramer went over and got in it.
“Burke? Cramer. Got a pad? Put this down: red leather box, don't know size or weight or old or new. Probably not very big, because the chances are it contains only papers, documents. It belonged to Boyden McNair. One: Give ten men copies of McNair's photograph and send them to all the safe deposit vaults in town.
Find any safe deposit box he had, and as soon as it's found get a court order to open it. Send Haskins to that bird at the Midtown National that's so damn cocky.
Two: Phone the men that are going through McNair's apartment and his place of business and tell them about the box and the one who finds it can have a day off. Three: Start all over again with McNair's friends and acquaintances and ask if they ever saw McNair have such a box and when and where and what does it look like. Ask Collinger, McNair's lawyer, too. I was so damn sure-I didn't ask him that. Four: Send another cable to Scotland and tell them to ask McNair's sister about the box. Did an answer come to the one you sent this morning?…No, hardly time. Got it?…Good. Start it quick. I'll be down pretty soon.”
He rang off. Wolfe murmured, “Ten men…a hundred…a thousand…Really, Mr.
Cramer, with such an outfit as that, you should catch at least ten culprits for every crime committed.”
“Yeah. We do.” Cramer looked around. “Oh, I guess I left my hat in the hall.
I'll let you know when we find the box, since it's your property. I may look into it first, just to make sure there's no bombs in it. I'd hate like the devil to see Goodwin here get hurt. You going to do any exploring?”
Wolfe shook his head. “With your army of terriers scratching at every hole?
There would be no room. I'm sorry, sir, for your disappointment here; if I knew where the red box
