“Cramer or the D.A. office?”
“Not yet. Hell, they don’t need to bother. A package like that, they could just have it sent parcel post.”
“Yeah. You go to Thirty-fifth Street and tell Fritz to feed you. As soon as Wolfe has finished his dinner, tell him about it. He may want you to get Saul and Orrie — he’ll tell you.”
“I?ll have to phone my wife—”
“Well, you got a nickel? Beat it.”
He went downtown, towards Eighty-ninth, and I went around the corner and east again. I approached the entrance; I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t crash it, though I didn’t know anyone up there. Just as I was under the canopy a big car came along and stopped quick, and two men got out. I took a look, then I got in the way of one of them. I grinned at him:
“Inspector Cramer! This is luck.” I started to walk along in with him.
He stopped. “Oh! You. Nothing doing. Beat it.”
I started to hand him a line, but he got sharp. “Beat it, Goodwin. If there’s anything up there that belongs to you I’ll save it for you. Nothing doing.”
I fell back. People were gathering, there was already quite a crowd, and a cop was there herding them. In the confusion I was pretty sure he hadn’t heard the little passage between Cramer and me. I faded away, and went to where I had parked the roadster. I opened up the back and got out a black bag I kept a few things in for emergencies; it didn’t look just right, but good enough. I went back to the entrance and pushed through the line while the cop was busy on the other side, and got through the door. Inside was the doorman and another cop. I stepped up to them and said, “Medical Examiner. What apartment is it?” The cop looked me over and took me to the elevator and said to the boy, “Take this gent to the fifth floor.” Inside, going up, I gave the black bag a pat.