They made enough noise to stop him. He showed them a palm.
“If you please, gentlemen. I have a question to put. I suspect one of you, but I have no evidence and no way of getting any speedily. That is why I asked Mr. Chisholm to keep you here for consultation with me after the departure of the police. I wanted to ask you: do you want to help? I would like to tell you the reason for my suspicion and ask you to help me get evidence to support it. I think you can if you will. Well?”
“One of us?” Joe Eston demanded.
It was interesting to see them. Naturally they all had an impulse — anyhow, all but one — to look around at faces, but no two of them handled it exactly alike. Chisholm looked straight and full at each in turn. Beaky Durkin sent quick little glances here and there. Doc Soffer, frowning and pursing his lips, turned his head slowly left to right.
“Go ahead, damn it!” Kinney blurted. “Have you got something or not?”
“Yes, I have something,” Wolfe assured him, “but I don’t know how good it is. Without your help it is no good at all.”
“We’ll help if we can. Let’s hear it.”
“Well. First the background. Were the two events — the drugging of the drinks and the murder — connected? The reasonable supposition is yes, until and unless it is contradicted. If they were connected, how? Did Ferrone drug the drinks, and did one of his teammates discover it and, enraged, go for him with the bat? It seems unlikely.” Wolfe focused on Beaky Durkin. “Mr. Durkin, most of what you told me has been corroborated by others, but you knew Ferrone better than anyone else. You discovered him and got him here. You were his roommate and counselor. You told me that because of his brilliant performance this season his salary for next year would be doubled; that his heart was set on winning today’s game and the series; that winning or losing meant a difference of some two thousand dollars to him personally; that his series money would pay his debts with some to spare; and that, knowing him intimately, you are positive that he could not have been bribed to drug the drinks. Is that correct?”
“It sure is.” Durkin was hoarse and cleared his throat. “Nick was a swell kid.” He looked around as if ready for an argument, but nobody started one.
“I know,” Wolfe said, “that the police got no impeachment of that. Do any of you dispute it?”