“Didn’t find out what number he was calling, did you?”
“No. He had me connect him with an outside line, and then dialled the number himself.”
“Leave any message?”
“He wanted you to call his office just as soon as you came in.”
Bertha grinned. “Gone a long ways from the poker-faced high-and-mighty big-shot that slammed up the phone in my ear, hasn’t he?”
“Personally, I think he’s almost crazy with worry,” Elsie said. “Who was the detective who called on you, Sergeant Sellers?”
“Uh huh.”
“I think he’s nice.”
“He’s all right if you like flatfeet,” Bertha said wearily. “I don’t. I just wish they’d leave me alone. They get delusions of grandeur. The way he busts in and orders me around! The hell with him.”
“What was it all about?” Elsie Brand asked.