Trumbull who, as a cryptographer by profession, might have been particularly interested, said, “By withholding information you may have deprived the lieutenant of crucial clues in the understanding of the message.”
“He didn’t think so,” said Burry. “He laughed and told me it was nonsense. I think he would have torn it up if I hadn’t rescued it — perhaps out of disappointment, for when I called him, I may have given him the impression I had something. I’ve kept studying the paper myself the last few days. Heaven help me, I even tried warming it over a hot plate in case invisible ink showed up.
“Now it is too late. Young John was arrested in what must have been the central clearing place — caught in clear guilt, with identifiable stolen goods in his possession. John called me from the police station — that was the phone call. And I’ve spoken to my detective-friend. But if I had been clever enough to understand the letter, I might have stopped John.”
Avalon said, “If the letter had significance. Not every piece of innocent literature conceals a guilty secret.”
“This one does, though,” said Rubin, his eyes flashing, his voice strident. “Let me ask you a few questions, Mr. Burry. You say John was taken. You mentioned no one else, not even by inference. Was he alone?”
“It’s my understanding he was.”
“And had John been holding the paper for some indefinite period when you became aware of it, or had he just received it?”
“I can’t answer that question definitely, Mr. Rubin,” said Burry, “but it was my impression that it had been passed to him even as I watched. I wish I had seen who it was that passed it, but I didn’t.”
Rubin said triumphantly, “Then the passer was there and watched you ask John to hand over the paper and watched him do so. The passer turned that information over to the higher-ups of the burglary ring and they had to take into account the possibility that John might talk. If the letter gave some sort of information that told John where to take the stolen goods, that information was quickly changed. John, being no longer trustworthy, would not be told of the change and he would walk in alone to the meeting place that was no longer to be a meeting place and was captured.”
Trumbull said, “Wait. Hold on. How did the police know about the meeting place, old or new?”
Burry studied his fingers and said, “According to my detective-friend, to whom I also talked before coming here, John had been under quiet surveillance for some time. Through nothing I said,” he added hurriedly. “He had been identified at the scene of a burglary. Not with certainty, you understand, but they were keeping an eye on him. I hadn’t known that.”
Trumbull said, “Then if you hadn’t taken that paper and roused suspicion — assuming Manny Rubin’s notion is correct — John would have led the police to an active clearing house, and right to some of the controlling figures.”
Burry nodded. “That thought has occurred to me.”
Gonzalo said hotly, “How the devil could Mr. Burry know that, Tom?”
“I’m returning to an earlier point,” said Trumbull. “Our guest showed the letter to the detective and it was ignored. He did not mention the name of the young man involved and I said that might be vital evidence. I was right. If the detective had known it was taken from a young man who was under surveillance, he would have treated it much more seriously.”
“You’re right,” said Burry. “I’ll have to tell them now.”
“Wait,” said Gonzalo. “I have a better idea. Why not tell them what the letter means? If you could be of help to them, they might be willing to go a bit easier on John if you asked them to.”
“John,” rumbled Avalon, “may think he’s been double-crossed already. He may think the burglary ring deliberately let him walk into a trap to pay him back for handing over the piece of paper. He may be willing to cooperate now.”
“The catch is,” said Burry, “that I don’t know what the letter means, so I can’t use it either to win consideration from the police or cooperation from John.”
Gonzalo said eagerly, “Do you remember what the letter said, Mr. Burry? Can you repeat it?”
“I don’t have to,” said Burry. “I have it with me.”
He took it out, unfolded it, flattened it out, and passed it to Gonzalo. The letter made its way around the table and after it reached Drake, that gentleman passed it on to Henry, even as Burry’s hand had reached out to take it. Henry glanced at it quickly, then returned it to Burry.
The typewriting did not have a professional touch, nor did the Xeroxing. It had an all-capital headline:
Underneath it said, “Join the march on City Hall on October 20. Demand that Congress recognize the rights of the poor to a quality education. There is no disgrace in being a New Yorker. We are Americans, every bit as much Americans as the people of Tar Heel, North Carolina, and we want our rights as Americans. No more, but certainly no less.”
“Is that all?” said Avalon in astonishment.
“That’s all,” said Burry.
“What a remarkably foolish message,” said Avalon. “Why march on City Hall? City Hall is helpless. What’s more, no one is ever going to get much sympathy from small-town America by making fun of it. Tar Heel, North Carolina! I admit that ‘tarheeler’ is a nickname for a North Carolinian because of the early production of rosin and tar from pine trees in that state, but that kind of name only sounds well when used by those who are so-named. To make up a name like Tar Heel, North Carolina is a deliberate insult. It would be like having a Southerner refer to the town of Damyankee, Massachusetts. What do they hope to gain?”
“Nothing,” said Rubin, smiling, “because it’s not a call to action. I’ll bet there isn’t any march scheduled for October 20, is there, Mr. Burry?”
“I don’t know,” said Burry. “I haven’t heard of one.”
“Then it’s a message, all right,” said Rubin.
Burry said, “Where? I tried looking at initial letters, final letters, every other word, every third word. I can’t find anything.” Mario Gonzalo shook his head slowly and with a moderately insufferable air of superiority. “It couldn’t possibly be any of those things, Mr. Burry. I could have told you that before I ever saw the letter.”
There was a moment’s complete silence and every other Black Widower turned to stare at Gonzalo. “Good God,” said Drake, blinking through cigarette smoke, “he sounds like Sherlock Holmes.”
Gonzalo said, “If you don’t mind, there’s five dollars riding on this, so just listen.” He put aside the free-flowing caricature of Burry which he had drawn in the course of the discussion and said, “John got the message as Mr. Burry was watching, and he handed it over promptly. But he looked at it first, isn’t that right Mr. Burry? Just a glance?”
Burry hesitated and said, “Yes, just a quick look.”
“Exactly! If it was a message, he had to see what it was before he handed it over, and if a quick look was enough, then he had no time to match up first letters or last letters or skip words. And if we take just a glance at the letter we’ll see what he saw.”
Rubin said with elaborate politeness, “And would you kindly tell us what you see.”
Gonzalo said, “I told you what to look for at the start of the evening. Look for the irrelevancy. Tar Heel, North Carolina is irrelevant. They could have made up the name of any other town — Jet Air, Utah, or Lollipop, South Dakota. Why insist on Tar Heel? Because it’s the key. John took one quick look at the letter to see the name of the town and once he had it, that was all he needed and he could give the paper away.”