The Father Hunt

So that man was out of there. As he turned into the hall Wolfe said, "You have been scampering around on a hot day and would presumably like something to drink, but you have forfeited your right to civilities. We've given you the name of a man you've been seeking for more than three months. What else do you want?"

The air conditioning had dried the sweat on Cramer's forehead and taken some of the red from his face. "I want plenty," he said. "I want one good reason why you and Goodwin shouldn't be charged with withholding information of a crime and obstructing justice. I want to know how long you have known that this Floyd Vance was the driver of that hit-and-run car, and how you spotted him. I want to know if he's the father you said you were looking for, and if so, and Elinor Denovo was the mother, I want to know why he killed her."

"That will take a lot of talking, Mr. Cramer."

"It sure will. Even for you. Go right ahead."

Wolfe adjusted his bulk in the chair. "First, withholding information. Last Thursday Mr. Goodwin gave you our word that if we got anything you might be able to use we would pass it on to you before we made any use of it ourselves. We got those fingerprints late last evening and delivered them to you early this morning, and we have made no use of them and don't intend to. I have no other information that you might be able to use, in my judgment."

"To hell with your judgment. If you think you can decide-"

"If you please. You told me to talk. As I told you, my client was, and is, a young woman who hired me to find her father. We found one likely prospect but investigation

conclusively eliminated him. We found another, but he too was eliminated. I was inclined to return the retainer and withdraw, and persisted only because I am what I call tenacious and Mr. Goodwin calls pigheaded. Do you recognize the name Raymond Thome?"

"Raymond Thome? No."