Wolfe moved his head an inch to the left and back again. “No, Miss Abbey, it won’t do. I want to know whether you saw Leo Heller before today, and in any case what you wanted of him.”
The tip of her tongue had appeared four times, to flick across her lips. She spoke in a controlled, thin, steely voice. “You make it sound overwhelming, Mr. Wolfe.”
“Not I. It is overwhelming.”
Her sharp dark eyes went to Cramer. “You’re an inspector, in charge of this business?”
“That’s right.”
“Do the police share Mr. Wolfe’s — skepticism?”
“You can take what he said as coming from me.”
“Then no matter what I tell you about why I went to see Heller, you’ll investigate it? You’ll check it?”
“Not necessarily. If it fits all right, and if we can’t connect it with the murder, and if it’s a private confidential matter, we’ll let it go at that. If we do check any, we’ll be careful. There are enough innocent citizens sore at us already.”
Her eyes darted back to Wolfe. “What about you, Mr. Wolfe? Will you have to check?”