Once more there was a peremptory knock on the door of Belder’s office. Imogene Dearborne opened the door, said, “Mrs. Cool’s secretary is on the line. She says that it is very important that she get in touch with Mrs. Cool immediately. She wanted to know if Mrs. Cool was here.”
“What did you tell her?” Belder asked.
There was just the trace of a smile on Miss Dearborne’s lips. “The woman on the telephone said she was Mrs. Cool’s secretary. I told her that I personally didn’t know of any Mrs. Cool, but if she’d hold the phone I’d make inquiries.”
“She’s on the line now?” Belder asked.
“Yes.”
Belder glanced inquiringly at Bertha Cool.
Bertha said, “Fix it so I can listen in. Talk with her a minute. If it’s Elsie Brand, I’ll recognize her voice. Stall her along.”
Without a word, Imogene turned back to the outer office. Belder silently handed Bertha Cool the desk telephone. Bertha sat there waiting until she heard a metallic click, then Imogene Dearborne saying, “I’m afraid I didn’t get that name correctly. Did I understand you to say that you wanted a Mrs. Pool. P-o-o-l — that’s P as in private?”
Elsie Brand’s voice, sharp with impatience, said, “No, it’s Mrs. Cool. C-o-o-l. C as in confidential.”
Bertha said promptly, “Hello, Elsie. I’m on the line. What do you want?”