The Father Hunt

"That's rather difficult. Information that I can't use won't help."

"I doubt if you can use it. If you can use it without divulging it, okay."

"Very well. You have my word."

"For what you want, it's negative. For at least a year and probably longer, we're still digging at it, Elinor De-novo was knifing him. She must have been a slick article. We can't find that she ever once actually mentioned his name, but last spring the only two clients he had that amounted to anything left him, and we have it in writing that they switched to a firm that was suggested and recommended by Elinor Denovo. Those are the two outstanding cases, but there are several others, and by the time it gets to trial we'll have a good file on it. As it stands now his lawyer would like to cop a plea for second-degree, but we want to wrap it up for first and I think we will. Evidently she decided, I think about a year and a half ago, to make it impossible for him to operate and she was doing a damn good job of it. You worked on him. Didn't you get any line on it?"

"No."

"You wouldn't withhold information."

"Sarcasm isn't your best blade, Mr. Cramer."

"That's why I never use it. And I doubt if you can use what I'm giving you. We've got a motive for Floyd Vance that's plenty good enough and it will be even better before we're through, but her motive for cooking him is your problem, not mine. It could be that she decided to even up for something that happened back in nineteen forty-. four, but I'm glad we don't have to dig that deep. If you want to try, you're welcome, but Goodwin can't get him to come and spend another evening in that chair. He's not available."

"No. I was hoping for something useful, and apparently

I'll have to accept defeat. But I am obliged to you. Sincerely obliged."

"Thafs a line to hang up on," Cramer said, and hung up.

Wolfe took a deep breath and a corner of his mouth went up a full quarter of an inch. He looked at me and said, "Satisfactory."

"Satisfactory hell," I said, "it's perfect. Simply marvelous. Do I make out a check for Miss Denovo for twenty grand?"

"Not now. That may come later." He looked at the clock. "Get Mr. Jarrett. I'll talk."

My brows went up. "Father or son?"

"Mr. Cyrus M. Jarrett."

I nodded. "Yeah. I admit I'm fairly good at filling orders, but this time I need specifications. My batting record for getting Cyrus M. Jarrett to the phone is nothing for two. I think the person I get is named Oscar."

"I'll speak with Oscar."