Might as Well Be Dead

“No.” Wolfe looked at the wall clock. Twenty minutes to lunch. “I’ve read the newspaper accounts. I would like to know why you’re convinced of his innocence.”

“Well-it’s a combination of things. His expressions, his tones of voice, his reactions to my questions and suggestions, some questions he has asked me-many things. But there was one specific thing. During my first talk with him, the day after he was arrested, I got the idea that he had refused to answer any of their questions because he wanted to protect Mrs. Molloy-either from being accused of the murder, or of complicity, or merely from harassment. At our second talk I got a little further with him. I told him that exchanges between a lawyer and his client were privileged and their disclosure could not be compelled, and that if he continued to withhold vital information from me I would have to retire from the case. He asked what would happen if I did retire and he engaged no other counsel, and I said the court would appoint counsel to defend him; that on a capital charge he would have to be represented by counsel. He asked if anything he told me would have to come out at the trial, and I said not without his consent.”