“Then, madam, your diagnosis is faulty. Mrs. Chack’s mind retains all those details with accuracy, which is a creditable performance at her age. I wouldn’t advise you—”
The phone buzzed and Cramer took it. He listened briefly, said to wait, and spoke to Wolfe, “I’m through if you are.” Wolfe nodded, and Cramer told the phone, “Come and escort the ladies out and then bring him in.”
Escorting the ladies out wasn’t so simple. They weren’t through, whether Wolfe and Cramer were or not. Finally Cramer had to leave his desk to get them herded through the door, and by the time he got back to his chair in came a city employee with another visitor.
Chapter 11
Leon Furey wasn’t liking himself as well as he had been the last time I saw him. As he walked in, looked around at us, and dropped into a chair by invitation, he was not jaunty. It was doubtful if he had been in his pajamas until noon that day, because his clothes looked as if he had not taken them off at all. Sizing him up as he sat there, with lumps under his bloodshot eyes and a two-day growth of beard, I saw nothing inconsistent with the theory that he had tied that scarf around Ann Amory’s throat, except the alibi, and that didn’t show.
“You want to say something?” Cramer asked.
“Yes, I do.” Leon spoke too loud for a man out in the clear and really satisfied with the surroundings. “I want to know why you’ve got men following me. I’ve been absolutely straight on this and I’ve accounted for every minute of my time, and you’ve verified it. What right have you got to treat me like a criminal? Having me followed, checking up on my draft registration, investigating everywhere I’ve been and everything I’ve done for God knows how long. What’s the big idea?”
“Routine in a murder case,” Cramer said shortly. “We waste a lot of time that way. If you’re claiming injury, get a lawyer. Is it pinching you somewhere?”
“That’s not the question.” Leon’s voice stayed loud. “I’ve proved that I had nothing to do with any murder, you know damn well I have, and you’ve got no right to go on investigating me as if I might have had. And I’ve got a right to make a living the same as anybody. Doing it by killing hawks may or may not meet with your approval, but if Miss Leeds wants to pay me for it what business is it of yours or anybody else’s?”
Cramer grunted. “Oh, that’s it.”