Scam

not.”
    “Are you kidding?”
    “Not at all. It could be blackmail, extortion, a threat, or a practical joke. The intentions of the person who sent it are not clear.”
    He frowned. “What are you saying?”
    I pointed to the letter. Shrugged. “This is obviously only preliminary. Designed to fluster and upset you, so you’ll be ripe for what comes next.”
    “What comes next?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “And what would that be?”
    “How the hell should I know? Blackmail sounds good to me. How does it sound to you?”
    “Blackmail?”
    “Sure.”
    He grimaced, shook his head. “I don’t think it’s blackmail. I think it has to do with the proxy fight.”
    “The idea is someone trying to embarrass you?”
    “Exactly.”
    “The problem there,” I said, “is if someone were trying to embarrass you, they simply would. I mean, what’s the worst-case scenario? Suppose they had compromising pictures of you with this girl—then why threaten you in this manner? Why not simply send a print to each and every stockholder?”
    Pritchert nearly gagged. “Good god, do you think they’d do that?”
    “Obviously not, or they wouldn’t be doing this.”
    “Why?”
    “Because there’d be no need. They wouldn’t need to threaten you. The damage would already be done.”
    “Uh-huh,” Pritchert said. “Now, look. I want you to do something about this.”
    “What?”
    “I want you to find the girl.”
    “The girl?”
    “Yes. She’s obviously the key to the whole thing. I saw you in the singles bar. That means, whoever it is, they saw me with the girl.”
    “So?”
    “So, we have to find her. It’s as simple as that.”
    “That’s one way to go about it,” I said. “Meanwhile, let’s see what else we can do.”
    “Else?”
    “Yeah. I mean right now. Whaddya say we take a run over to your office.”
    “My office?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What for?”
    “To get the envelope.”
    Pritchert frowned. “I don’t understand. What’s so important about the envelope?”
    “It could be a lot of things.”
    “Like what?”
    “First off, the address.”
    “The address?”
    “Sure. You say you opened the envelope, threw it away, and then read the letter. Right?”
    “Right.”
    “The reason you threw it away was because you had no idea there was anything special about it. So obviously the address on the envelope wasn’t cut from newspaper headlines. Was it?”
    “No. Of course not.”
    “So how was it addressed?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Was it typed or handwritten?”
    “I don’t remember.”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “I keep telling you, I had no idea it was important.”
    “Yes, but you know it’s important now. You knew it was important as soon as you read the letter. So think. Was the envelope handwritten or typed?”
    “I tell you, I don’t know.”
    “So,” I said, “there’s one thing we can learn from the envelope—whether it was handwritten or typed. Once we know that, it’s possible to trace it. To a particular handwriting or a particular machine.
    “Then there’s the postmark. Where and when was the letter sent? Most likely, right here from New York, but that’s something to establish.
    “Then there’s the return address. Was a phony return address used, or was there simply none?
    “You can learn a lot from an envelope.”
    “I suppose so,” Pritchert said.
    “So whaddya say we go get it?”
    Pritchert held up both hands. “No, no. I don’t want you going to the office.”
    “Why not?”
    “Are you kidding? I don’t want to explain.”
    “To who?”
    “Kevin and Marty, of course.”
    “Kevin and Marty?”
    “The other vice-presidents. I told you about them,” Pritchert said impatiently.
    “Right, you did. So what’s the big deal? I could be a potential customer for all they know.”
    “Then I’d have to explain. I’m no good at explaining. They’d ask questions, I wouldn’t know what to say.”
    “Fine, then I won’t go. I’ll drive you to the office, you run up and get the envelope.”
    “Drive me?”
    “Yeah. My car’s in the municipal lot.”
    “There’s a municipal lot?”
    “Yeah. On 53rd Street. Come on,” I said, heading for the door. “Let’s get the envelope.”
    “Now? You mean now?”
    “Of course now. This is a solid lead. The first one we got. Let’s go nail it down.”
    That obviously didn’t suit Pritchert’s plans. But he couldn’t seem to think of a reason not to go. He frowned, picked up his