“I don’t think you ’ll feel that way when you hear his report. I want to go over it with you. Sit down, Barney.”
Barney sat down, alertly.
“He finds,” Babbing said, glancing over his typewritten sheets, “that the anonymous letters could not have come from Mr. Van Amberg.”
“Why not?”
“Because Van Amberg intercepted them before they reached your wife. She has never received them.”
Harper turned on Barney. “How do you know that?”
Barney nodded to the paper in Babbing’s hands, as if it contained the answer.
“It does n’t matter how we know it,” Babbing said. “It ’s a fact.”
Harper glanced suspiciously from one to the other. The boy’s face was an ingenuous mask. Babbing’s expression was almost as innocent, but there was a keenness in his colorless eyes. He tapped the typewritten pages.
