“Something that might have been connected in some way with the thing Kosling employed you about in the first place,” Sergeant Sellers prompted, and, as Bertha failed to take the bait, he added significantly, “something that perhaps had to do with a woman.”
“What sort of a woman?” Bertha asked quickly.
“There,” Sellers admitted, “you have me stumped. It wouldn’t be a woman who would be interested from an amorous angle unless she was a gold digger pure and simple.”
“Make it simple,” Bertha said. “The other’s superfluous.”
Sellers grinned.
“Well,” Bertha said, “then what?”
“Then,” Sellers retorted, “we come down to the plain business theory. Kosling might have had some information Boll-man wanted to get.”
Elsie Brand put her head in the door. “Could you get on the telephone Mrs. Cool?”
Bertha Cool looked at her, caught a peculiar significance in Elsie’s glance, said, “Just a moment,” to Sellers, and picked up the telephone.
Central’s voice said, “San Bernardino is calling and wants you to pay for the message.”