Chapter 26: XXVI

XXVI Blackmail I had to push my client’s doorbell a lot before I got any play on it. Finally the door was opened by the tall sunburned chauffeur. He was dressed in undershirt and pants, and had a billiard cue in one fist. “What do you want?” he demanded, and then, when he got another look at me: “It’s you, is it? Well, what do you want?” “I want to see Mr. Willsson.” “At four in the morning? Go on with you,” and he started to close the door. I put a foot against it. He look…