“Uh huh. The one that dragged Imogene Dearborne into the mess.”
Bertha said, “That little — estimable young thing. I only had a chance to glance at the letter before Sergeant Sellers took it.”
“Called the turn on her, all right,” the officer said.
“She’s suing me for a hundred grand. The little twir — estimable young lady.”
The officer threw back his head and laughed. “What the hell makes her so estimable?”
“My lawyer says she’s estimable.”
“I get you.”
Bertha said, “As I remember that last letter, it was just a little ambiguous. It didn’t offer anything you could use as definite proof.”
“Registration at an hotel,” the officer said. “I don’t know what more you’d want— Say, it’s cold here. I’m feeling chilly.”
“They shut the heat off Saturday afternoons.”