He turned the scowl on her. 'You say you know he didn't do it. Is that merely an opinion seemly for a daughter or can you support it with evidence?' 'I haven't any evidence. All the evidence is against him. But it's not just an opinion, I know it. I know my father well enough to�' 'No.' He snapped it. 'That is cogent for you but not for me. You want to engage me, and pay me, to act on behalf of a man without his knowledge�a man who, in spite of his wealth and standing, has been charged with murder and locked up. The evidence must be strong. Your father wouldn't be my client; you would.' 'All right, I will.' She opened the bag. 'I said would. It's preposterous, but it is also tempting. I need to know�but first what Mr Goodwin and I already know.' His head turned. 'Archie. What do we know?' 'The crop?' I asked. 'Or the highlights?' 'Everything. Then we'll see if Miss Blount has anything to add.' 'Well.' I focused on the prospective client. 'This is from the papers and some talk I've heard. If I'm wrong on anything don't try to remember until I'm through, stop me. The 7 Gambit Club is a chess club with two floors in an old brick building on West Twelfth Street. It has about sixty members, business and professional men and a couple of bankers. As chess clubs go, it's choosy. Tuesday evening, January thirtieth, two weeks ago tomorrow, it had an affair. A man named Paul Jerin, twenty-six years old, not a member, was to play simultaneous blindfold games with twelve of the members. 'About Paul Jerin. I'm mixing the papers and the talk I've heard without separating them. He was a screw-ball. He had three sources of income: from writing verses and gags for greeting cards, from doing magic stunts at parties, and from shooting craps. Also he was hot at chess, but he only played chess for fun, no tournament stuff. You knew him. You met him�how long ago?' 'About a year. I met him at a party where he did tricks.' 'And he cultivated you�or you cultivated him.