“How come?”
Bertha said, “A man wants me to locate this woman. He doesn’t even know her name. He was becoming attached to her, and then she was smashed out of his life.”
The man took the cigarette from his mouth, flicked the ashes off on to Bertha Cool’s carpet, threw back his head and laughed.
A slow flush of indignation began to colour Bertha’s beefy neck. “I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she snapped.
“Funny? It’s a scream! Boy, oh, boy, ha ha ha! He just wants to send the little lady a valentine, and doesn’t know where to send it. Won’t you please give me the licence number of the guy that struck her?”
“Don’t you see?” Bertha asked. “The man who struck her was going to take her to a hospital. My client wants to know what hospital she went to.”
The man in the big, comfortable, overstuffed chair by the window where it was cool writhed with laughter. He doubled up, slapped his leg, became red in the face. “Ha ha ha! Lady, you slay me! You’re a card. I mean you really are a card!”
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his perspiring forehead and his eyes. “Boy, oh, boy, that’s spreading it on. What I mean, it’s spreading it on with a trowel. Tell me, lady, do you find many of them that fall for that sort of stuff? I’m just interested, because when people get that easy, there’s always a chance for someone to make a little something out of it.”
Bertha pushed back her chair. “All right,” she said angrily. “Now listen to me, you little smart pipsqueak. You’re brainy, aren’t you? You’re mamma’s smart little boy. You were the bright one of the family. You’re the clever guy. All the rest of them are suckers. What’s it you got? Look at you. With a twenty-five-dollar, ready-made suit, a dollar necktie, a shirt that’s got holes in it where the edges of the collar rub against it, a pair of shoes that are run-down at the heels. Smart, eh? Wise guy! You’re half smart, just smart enough to stand in your own light and kick because there’s always a shadow tailing you. All right, Mr. Smartypants, now let me tell you something.”
Bertha was on her feet now, leaning across the desk.