“You mean you don’t have the information, or do you mean that you can’t ethically betray the confidences of a client?”
Bertha hesitated for a moment and said, “I think I’ve answered your questions truthfully, according to the best information I have at the time, and I think they’ve covered this thing thoroughly.”
The sergeant nodded but made no move toward leaving. He simply sat there, looking at her.
“Was Bollman driving a car?” Bertha Cool asked abruptly.
“Yes. He’d parked it two blocks way. We didn’t find it until morning. It’s registered in his name.”
“Suppose Bollman drove Kosling home. Suppose your theory is correct, and because Bollman was dealing with a blind man he took his arm, led him up the walk, opened the door, stepped inside, and pulled the thread which fired the gun? What happened to Kosling? How could he get anywhere?”
“There are some men in the department who think perhaps you took him somewhere, Mrs. Cool.”
“Think that I did!” Bertha exclaimed incredulously.
“That’s right.”
“Well, they’re cockeyed. Tell them I said so.”