I said, “Okay, here’s something you can do while I’m gone.”
“What?”
I said, “The police are closing the case. They’re giving everyone a clean bill of health. Now this suitcase with a bullet in it belonged to Minerva Carlton. I want you to get hold of Stanwick Carlton and persuade him that, as the husband of the dead woman, he should demand that suitcase from the authorities. When he gets it, persuade him that you want to take it for a little while for evidence.”
“What for?” Bertha asked.
I said, “I want to follow the course of that bullet.”
Bertha’s eyes glittered. “I get you,” she said.
I said, “Stanwick Carlton is a big, tough guy, but he isn’t half as tough as he thinks he is. He’d love to have someone pull a mother act with him.”
“I’ll clutch him to my bosom and let him sob his heart out,” Bertha said.
“Be a mother to him,” I told her. “You won’t mind putting on a mother act, will you, Bertha?”
“Hell,” Bertha said, “if it’ll bring us in any money, I’ll be his grandmother.”