“You’ll find Corla?”
“Your dad’s the one who’s employing us,” I said.
“But I don’t understand. He wants you to find Corla. Don’t you, Dad?”
Whitewell said, “Yes, Philip, if it can be done with a reasonable expenditure of time and money.”
“But don’t you see, Dad? It can’t be a matter of money. There’s something back of it, something sinister, something terrible—”
“Well, let’s not discuss it while our dinner is digesting, Philip.”
“But you’ll promise me that you’ll keep Mr. Lam— That is, Mrs. Cool and Mr. Lam on the job?”
“That, Philip, you’ll have to leave to my judgment.” He looked across at me. “Lam, if you could find that letter and if that letter showed definitely that Corla had-left voluntarily, I think Philip and I would be willing to accept that as a completion of your employment.”
“I take it, you wouldn’t want any ideas I might have about the letter?”
“I think the letter would speak for itself.”