“I’m sorry I missed that,” I said with feeling.
Wolfe stirred. “I assume that has been examined for fingerprints.”
“Certainly.”
“May I see it, please?”
Wolfe extended a hand. Cramer hesitated a moment, then tossed it across to the desk, and Wolfe picked it up. He took out the bills, crisp new ones, counted them, and looked inside.
“This was sealed,” he observed dryly, “with my name on it, and you opened it.”
“We sure did.” Cramer came forward in his chair with a hand stretched. “Let me have it.”
It was a demand, not a request, and Wolfe reacted impulsively. If he had taken a second to think he would have realized that if he claimed it he would have to earn it, or at least pretend to, but Cramer’s tone of voice was the kind of provocation he would not take. He returned the bills to the envelope and put it in his pocket.
“It’s mine,” he stated.
“It’s evidence,” Cramer growled, “and I want it.”