“Come along, you!” And to me: “You too, bud! Come on!”
I grinned at him. “If you ever find time to glance over an interesting document called the Constitution of the United—”
“Shut up, Archie,” Wolfe snapped. “Mr. Cramer. What in the name of heaven is the matter with you?”
“Not a thing,” Cramer said sarcastically. “Matter with me? Not a damn thing.” I never saw him sorer or sourer. “Listen!” he said. He stepped to the desk and tapped a heavy finger on it, sounding like a hammer. “Last night, sitting right at this desk, what did you say? What did you tell me?”
Wolfe was grimacing with distaste. “Your tone and manner, Mr. Cramer—”
“You said, in case you’ve forgotten, that you weren’t interested in the death of Bess Huddleston! Knew nothing about it! Weren’t interested!” Cramer went on tapping the desk. “Well, this afternoon somebody in my office got an idea — we do that once in a while! I sent a man up there, and young Huddleston showed him where the monkey poured some of that iodine, and when he went to take some of that turf for analysis, he found it had already been taken! It had been carefully filled up with other turf, but the grass didn’t match. He asked questions, and he learned that Daniel Huddleston had done it, taken the turf away, and Goodwin had been there and gone with him!”
“Not with him,” I corrected emphatically. “After him.”
Cramer ignored me. “We went for Huddleston and couldn’t find him. So I come to see you. You and Goodwin. And what do I find? By God! I find Huddleston! Sitting here eating! This is the rawest one you’ve ever pulled! Removing evidence, destroying evidence—”
“Nonsense,” Wolfe said curtly and coldly. “Stop shouting. If you wish to know the purpose of Mr. Huddleston’s visit—”
“Not from you I don’t! I’ll get it from him! And from Goodwin! And separately! I’m taking them downtown.”