“We want facts, not speeches.” Shayne cut him off angrily. “You claim you wrote me a letter two weeks ago suggesting that I fix a frame to put Carrol’s wife into her husband’s bedroom. How was that letter addressed?”
“I protest your phrasing,” said Bates curtly. “I suggested no frame-up. I merely asked if you were capable of arranging a certain matter for my client.”
“Just who was your client?” Shayne demanded. “I understand you act as attorney for Carrol and Margrave, yet you admit conniving with Carrol’s wife to put her husband on the spot.”
“I do not feel the need of justifying myself to you,” said Bates in a voice of outraged dignity. “Perhaps you’ll explain your eagerness to have Ralph Carrol in your hotel, in the light of what happened later, and why you deliberately lured Mrs. Carrol into your bedroom.”
“Let’s skip that right now. I don’t know yet what reason anyone had for wanting Carrol in my hotel. Tell me how your first letter to me was addressed.”
“To your office, of course. You replied promptly on your own letterhead, as I am positive you are fully aware.”
Shayne shrugged and turned to Gentry. “There goes the only idea I had for the way it was worked. You want to question him about the lawsuit, Will?”
“You talked to Margrave,” Gentry said. “Go ahead with it yourself.”
“All right. What is the present status of the Vulcan suit against the partnership of Carrol and Margrave?”
“I don’t see that the question is at all relevant,” Bates told him, “and professional ethics make it impossible for me to—”