“I told you this morning, and what good did it do me?” Cramer arose. “Come on, they’re waiting for us down at Skinner’s office.”
“Today is Sunday, Mr. Cramer.”
“Correct. I doubt if you can get bail before tomorrow. We’ll find a cot big enough for you.”
“You haven’t got one. This is grotesque.”
“Sure it is. Come on. I may get tired of being polite.”
“You mean this. Do you?”
“I do, you know.”
“Then I request a courtesy. I want three or four minutes to dictate a letter. In your presence.”
Cramer scowled at him suspiciously. “Who to?”
“You’ll hear it.”