Bertha heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, rapid steps on the floor — and Everett Belder stood beaming at her from the doorway. The lines of worry had been partially erased from his countenance by a shave and massage which left his skin smooth and pink. His nails were lustrous with a fresh manicure.
“Come in, Mrs. Cool. Come in. You’re a fast worker... This is Imogene Dearborne — she knows who you are. I have no secrets from her. If you ever have any reports to make or want to get in touch with me when I’m not available, just give whatever information you have to Imogene... But do come in.”
Bertha Cool nodded and smiled politely at the secretary.
Imogene Dearborne lowered her eyelids. She had long dark lashes which curled up attractively and, when her lids were lowered, showed up to advantage against the smooth contour of her cheeks.
Bertha Cool regarded the demurely downcast eyes, said, “Humph!” and let Belder hold a chair for her.
Imogene Dearborne went out, closing the door behind her. Belder walked around behind the desk and settled himself in a huge polished walnut chair with dark brown leather upholstery.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon, Mrs. Cool.”
“I didn’t expect to be here myself.”
“I understood you were going to follow my wife until she’d made a contact and then shadow that person. I trust nothing has interfered with those plans.”
Bertha said, “I lost her.”