“The stranger said the letter must get to me; that he was afraid to mail it; that lives were at stake; that he trusted the driver to bring it here. He suggested the story that the driver told, and the fellow certainly went through with it convincingly.
“The result is that I have the letter, and I’m positive that no one — except yourself — knows that I received it. That is, no one except the bearer and the man who sent it, although I doubt that the writer has seen the taxi man since.”
“Did the cab driver describe the man who gave him the letter?” asked Cardona.
“No. He simply said he was nervous, and seemed in earnest in his pleading. He wouldn’t tell where the event occurred. He was under full instructions.”
“You should have kept him here!”
“I should have. But I was anxious to see the letter, and the man seemed straight in his story. I let him go. Then I read the letter. Here it is.”
Reaching in his pocket, the lawyer produced a crumpled sheet of blue paper and an opened envelope. He gave both to Cardona.
The detective looked at the envelope first. It bore no marks. Then he referred to the letter. It was written in a hasty scrawl, some of the words being almost unintelligible. Cardona’s eye went to the bottom of the page. An exclamation burst from his lips. He looked up in astonishment.
“From—”
“Shh,” warned Blefken, alarmed at the loudness of the detective’s tone.