Bertha’s eyes glittered at Elsie Brand. “Show him in. What the hell are you standing there for? If he’s got business and he has money, what more do we want?”
Elsie said, “I just wanted to make certain,” and opened the door. “Come in,” she said to the blind man.
The cane tapped its way across the office, entered Bertha’s inner sanctum. Once inside the room, the man paused inquiringly, holding his head cocked slightly on one side, listening intently.
His keen ears caught the sound of some slight motion Bertha made. He turned toward her as though he could see her, bowed, and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Cool.”
“Sit down,” Bertha said. “Elsie get that chair out for him. That’s fine. That’s all, Elsie. Sit down, Mr. What’s your name?”
“Kosling. Rodney Kosling.”
“All right, sit down. I’m Bertha Cool.”
“Yes, I know. Where is the young man who works with you, Mrs. Cool? Donald Lam, I believe his name is.”
Bertha’s face became grimly savage. “Damn him!” she sputtered.
“Where is he?”