“Take the eraser and insert it in the end of the pencil that hasn’t one in it. I want to know if the eraser was loose enough to slip out accidentally.”
“Inspector, are you on? You said not to disturb—”
“Go ahead,” Cramer growled. “I’m right here.”
“Yes, sir. Hold it, please.”
There was a long wait, and then he was back on. “The eraser couldn’t have slipped out accidentally. Part of it is still clamped in the end of the pencil. It had to be pulled out, torn apart, and the torn surfaces are bright and fresh. I can pull one out of another pencil and tell you how much force it takes.”
“No, thank you, that’s all I need. But to make certain, and for the record, I suggest that you send the pencil and eraser to the laboratory to check that the torn surfaces fit.”
“Do I do that, Inspector?”
“Yeah, you might as well. Mark them properly.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cramer returned to the red leather chair, and I went to mine. He tilted the cigar upward from the corner of his mouth and demanded, “So what?”