Willamer blinked his watery blue eyes at me. "That's libelous," he stated. "I'm a lawyer and I ought to know. You can't accuse me of blackmail in the presence of witnesses. By God, Tompkins, I'll have the examiners in your office at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. And I'll sue you for damages."
"Oh no, you won't," I informed him. "I didn't call you a blackmailer and I doubt that your friends will care to testify. You didn't know—perhaps I forgot to mention it—but this room is wired for dictaphones and a complete phonographic record of this conversation is already on wire. I'll send it over to the F.B.I. in the morning, unless you—"
"Excuse me, Harry," said Commander Coonley with an air of decision. "I didn't hear any reference to blackmail by Mr. Tompkins. I'd better be getting back to my office."
"Me, too," chimed Lt. Col. George Finogan.
"Nice to have met you, Tompkins," Winston Sales observed as he strode briskly for the exit.
Harry Willamer turned to me, not without dignity. "You son of a bitch!" he remarked feelingly, and followed the others.
I waited until it was reasonably sure that the Inter-Alia group had left the building. Then I went downstairs to the bar and found Tammy alone.
"Tammy," I said. "You overheard our conversation down the dummy, didn't you?"
"Oh no, sir. Not at all, Mr. Tompkins. I—"
"Of course you did, Tammy. You heard these gentlemen try to blackmail me and you heard me tell them to go to hell, didn't you?"