“No. Mrs. Goldring heard it yowling and opened the door. The cat came in. Seemed to be well fed, but kept yowling, kept padding around the house all night and yowling. Wouldn’t stay put and settle down.”
“Probably misses Mrs. Belder,” Bertha said.
“Probably.”
The telephone on Sellers’ desk tinkled tentatively.
Sergeant Sellers picked up the receiver, said, “Hello,” then nodded to Bertha. “For you, Bertha. Your office calling. Says it’s important.”
Bertha took the telephone, heard Elsie Brand’s voice speaking in the low, somewhat muffled tones of one who is trying to be secretive by holding her lips well within the mouthpiece of the telephone. “Mrs. Cool, Mr. Belder keeps telephoning. He says he has to see you right away.”
“To hell with him,” Bertha announced cheerfully and promptly.
“I think he has another letter.”
“And hasn’t guts enough to do anything about it, eh?” Bertha asked.
“Something like that.”