“I have instructions,” he informed me.
“Okay. I was intending to be at the bank at ten o’clock to deposit Mrs. Fromm’s check.”
“You may. You will proceed from there. You will probably be out all day. Tell Fritz to answer the phone and take the usual precautions with visitors. Report by phone at intervals.”
“The funeral is at two o’clock.”
“I know, and therefore you may come home for lunch. We’ll see. Now the instructions.”
He gave them to me. Four minutes did it. At the end he asked if I had any questions.
I was frowning. “One,” I said. “It’s clear enough as far as it goes, but what am I after?”
“Nothing.”
“Then that’s probably what I’ll get.”
He sipped coffee. “It’s what I’ll expect. You’re stirring them up, that’s all. You’re turning a tiger loose in a crowd — or, if that’s too bombastic, a mouse. How will they take it? Will any of them tell the police, and if so, which one or ones?”