I kept thinking, and didn’t say anything.
She said, “When the detectives first got the letters, they thought Hampton’s lawyer might buy them off, but Hampton hasn’t much money. I think it was the lawyer who suggested that they should work through Ringold and get the money out of me.”
“Who’s the lawyer?” I asked.
“C. Layton Crumweather,” she said. “He’s the lawyer, incidentally, who does the legal work for Bob’s corporation, and I’ve been terribly afraid that he’d say something, but I guess those lawyers can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
“Are you certain Crumweather knows about the letters?” I asked.
“Ringold said he did, and I suppose, of course, that Lasster told him. I guess when a man gets arrested for murder, he tells his lawyer everything, no matter whom it may affect.”
I said, “Yes, I guess he does.”
She said, “Of course, Crumweather wants to keep those letters out of the district attorney’s hands. Naturally, he wants to get an acquittal in that murder case. The letters would clinch the case against his client... From all I can hear of Crumweather. I think he’s very smart.”
I got up and started pacing the floor. Suddenly I turned and said, “You didn’t open that envelope when he gave it to you last night.”
She stared at me with eyes that began to get wider and rounder. “Then you were in that room, Donald?”