“You’re certain?”
“Virtually.”
“Couldn’t have been that she was related to him and was tangled up with some man, and Kosling wanted to do something about it?”
“No.”
“You’re not being a great deal of help, Mrs. Cool.”
“Hell’s bells,” Bertha said. “I told you about finding the body, didn’t I? I could have walked out and left you holding the sack.”
Sellers grinned. “I’ll bet you’d have done just that too, if it hadn’t been for the taxi driver. That put you in something of a spot. You knew that after the body was discovered, he’d remember having driven you out here, and given the police a good description.”
Bertha Cool maintained a dignified silence.
“Ever occur to you that this fellow is a faker?” Sergeant Sellers asked.
“What do you mean?”