WILBUR BLAKE was seated in the spacious library of his Long Island home. An empty glass was beside him on the table. He pressed a button on the wall. A butler appeared.
“Herbert,” said Blake, “tell Otto to come in here before he leaves.”
A moment later a uniformed chauffeur entered the room.
“Everything all right, Otto?” asked Blake.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re to pick up Mister Paget at the Merrimac Club at ten o’clock and be back before eleven.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pick up the night watchman at his house. You can bring him in the rumble seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chauffeur left. Blake went to a table in the corner and started to write.