“You told me that it was his belief that Dr. Elkus was having Mr. Chapin shadowed.”
“Yep.”
“And then you started a sentence; I think you said, But one of those dicks — Something approximating that. I was impatient, and I stopped you. I should not have done so. My impulsive reaction to what I knew to be nonsense betrayed me into an error. I should have let you finish. Pray do so now.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I remember. But since you’ve dumped the Dreyer thing into the ash can, what does it matter whether Elkus—”
“Archie. Confound it, I care nothing about Elkus; what I want is your sentence about a dick. What dick? Where is he?”
“Didn’t I say? Tailing Paul Chapin.”
“One of Mr. Cramer’s men.”
I shook my head. “Cramer has a man there too. And we’ve got Durkin and Gore and Keems, eight-hour shifts. This bird’s an extra. Cramer wondered who was paying him and had him in for a conference, but he’s tough, he never says anything but cuss words. I thought maybe he was Bascom’s, but no.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, I went down there. He was eating soup, and he’s like you about meals, business is out. I waited on him a little, carried his bread and butter and so on, and came on home.”