“Yes.”
Freel said, “Tidings gave it to me.”
“Tell me about it,” Mason said.
“I double-crossed Mrs. Tump,” Freel admitted miserably. “You’re right. Maybe I have done a tittle blackmailing. I’ve had to live since the Home let me go. If I’ve collected from a few people, it was because I had to. And I’ve never been able to get very much — just a tittle here and a little there — and I had to be careful because I only dared to work in the cases where they couldn’t complain to the police — cases where the publicity would have ruined someone. Sometimes I’d collect a little money from the father, sometimes from people who had adopted children and didn’t want the children to know about the adoption.”
Freel was whining badly now. “I didn’t ask for much money, Mr. Mason, only enough to get by on. I figured that the world owed me a living.”
“Go ahead,” Mason said. “Tell me about Tidings.”
“I went to Tidings. I told him what I knew about Byrl Gailord.”
“What did Tidings do?”
“He laughed at me and kicked me out.”
“Then what?”