“The man was blind,” Bertha said. “He didn’t need lights.”
“Well, I need a socket to hook up my floodlights.”
“Can’t you use flash bulbs?”
“I’ve got to,” the man said. “Don’t like ’em — not for the kind of stuff the sergeant wants. Can’t control the lighting as well as you can with floodlights. Can’t take the time to arrange things and see what you’re getting, and then sometimes you get reflections. Oh, well, it’s all in a lifetime.”
A few minutes later, Sergeant Sellers was back. “Well,” he said, “let’s get some particulars. What was this man’s name?”
“Rodney Kosling.”
“Know anything about his family?”
“No. I doubt very much if he has one. He seemed very much alone.”
“Know how long he’s been living here?”
“No.”