Sergeant Sellers settled himself comfortably in Bertha Cool’s office and regarded her with a quiet skepticism which Bertha Cool found hard to combat.
“This blind man, Rodney Kosling,” the sergeant said. “Know where he is?”
“No, of course not.”
“Client of yours?”
“He was. As I told you, I did a small job for him.”
“Satisfactorily?”
“I hope so.”
“He might come back to you in case he wanted something else done?”
“I hope so.”
“Peculiar problem when you’re dealing with a blind man.” Sellers went on. “You can’t exactly get what you want on him.”