Maurer took the photograph, looked at it, then put the photograph face down on the arm of his chair. He looked up suddenly and smiled.
“You’ve finished your drink, Captain. Help yourself.”
“No, thanks,” McCann said.
He wasn’t fooled by the smile. The atmosphere in the room affected him like
the pressure of an approaching electric storm.
Maurer got up and walked across the room to a door near the casement windows. He opened the door and went into the room that McCann knew Seigel used as an office.
McCann sat still, his cigar gripped tightly between his teeth. He was aware that his heart was beating unevenly and his mouth was dry.
Maurer returned from the office carrying a long white envelope. As he crossed the room, McCann got to his feet and faced him.
“I have been meaning to give you this for some time,” Maurer said, smiling. “A little investment I made in your name came out pretty well.”
McCann took the envelope.