“I’ve had it analyzed, of course.”
“Tell me about it.”
Cramer tapped ashes into the tray. “There’s not much to tell. It was a two-pound box that’s on sale pretty well all over town, at druggists and branch stores, put up by Bailey of Philadelphia, selling at a dollar sixty. They call it Royal Medley, and there’s a mixture in it, fruits, nuts, chocolates, and so on. Before I turned it over to the chemist I got Bailey’s factory on the phone and asked if all Royal Medley boxes were uniform. They said yes, they were packed strictly to a list, and they read the list to me. Then for a check I sent out for a couple of boxes of Royal Medley and spread them out and compared them with the list. Okay. By doing the same with the box Molly Lauck ate from, I found that three pieces were gone from it: candied pineapple, a candied plum, and a Jordan almond. That agreed with the Mitchell girl’s story.”
Wolfe nodded. “Fruits, nuts, chocolates — were there any caramels?”
“Caramels?” Cramer stared at him. “Why caramels?”
“No reason. I used to like them.”
Cramer grunted. “Don’t try to kid me. Anyhow, there aren’t any caramels in a Bailey’s Royal Medley. That’s too bad, huh?”
“Perhaps. It certainly decreases the interest, for me. By the way, these details regarding the candy — have they been published? Has anyone been told?”
“No. I’m telling you. I hope you can keep a secret. It’s the only one we’ve got.”
“Excellent. And the chemist?”