Wolfe opened his eyes for suspicion. “What do you mean, sir, by that tone? You wonder what?”
“I wonder where the red box is.” Cramer upturned a palm. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s a hundred to one that what’s in it will solve this case.” He looked around, and back at Wolfe. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance it could be right here in this office this minute, for instance in the safe or in one of the drawers of Goodwin’s desk.” He turned to me. “Mind looking, son?”
I grinned at him. “I don’t have to. I’ve got it in my shoe.”
Wolfe said, “Mr. Cramer. I told you last evening how far Mr. McNair got with his tale. Do you mean to say that you have the effrontery to suspect—”
“Now listen.” Cramer got louder and firmer. “Don’t dump that on me. If I had any effrontery I wouldn’t bother to bring it here with me, I’d just borrow some. I’ve seen your indignant innocence too often. I remind you of the recent occasion when I ventured to suggest that that Fox woman might be hiding in your house. I also remind you that McNair said yesterday in his will — here, I’ll read it — I have informed him where it is to be found. Get it? Past tense. Sure, I know, you’ve told me everything McNair said yesterday afternoon, but where did he get that past tense idea before he saw you yesterday? You saw him Tuesday, too—”
“Nonsense. Tuesday was a brief first interview—”
“All right, I’ve known you to get further than that at a first interview. All right, I know I’m yelling and I’m going to keep on yelling. For once I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand in line out on the sidewalk until you decide to open the doors and let us in to see the show. There’s no reason in God’s world why you shouldn’t produce that red box right now and let me have a hand in it. I’m not trying to shove you off from a fee; go to it; I’m for you. But I’m the head of the Homicide Squad of the City of New York, and I’m sick and tired of you playing Godalmighty with any evidence and any clues and any facts and any witnesses — and anything you may happen to think you need for a while — nothing doing! Not this time! Not on your life!”
Wolfe murmured mildly, “Let me know when you’re through.”
“I’m not going to be through.”
“Yes, you are. Sooner than you think. You’re playing in bad luck, Mr. Cramer. In demanding that I produce Mr. McNair’s red box, you have chosen the worst possible moment for bringing up your reserves and battering down the fort. I confess that I have on occasions quibbled with you and played with double meanings, but you have never known me to tell you a direct and categorical lie. Never, sir. I tell you now that I have never seen Mr. McNair’s red box, I have no idea where it is or was, and I have no knowledge whatever of its contents. So please don’t yell at me like that.”