There was no reply. He was leaning back in his chair, pushing his lips out and in, and out and in again. I followed instructions, first returning the stuff to the carton to save space, and then went to the hall for the wrapping paper and cord and put them in the safe also.
I sat at my desk, waited until Wolfe’s lips were quiet again, and asked coldly, “How about a raise? I could use twenty bucks a week more. So far this case has brought us one hundred and five thousand, three hundred and twelve dollars. Deduct expenses and the damage—”
“Where did the three hundred and twelve come from?”
“From Rony’s wallet. Saul’s holding it. I told you.”
“You know, of course, who sent that package.”
“Not exactly. D, C, B, or A, but which? It wouldn’t come straight from X, would it?”
“Straight? No.” Wolfe shook his head. “I like money, but I don’t like that. I only wish you could answer a question.”
“I’ve answered millions. Try me.”
“I’ve already tried you on this one. Who drugged that drink Saturday evening — the one intended for Mr. Rony which you drank?”
“Yeah. That’s the question. I myself asked it all day yesterday, off and on, and again this morning, and I don’t know.”