Elsie looked up at me with the twinkle of a smile. She said, “I can remember when you first came to work.”
“What about it?”
“I figured you’d last just about forty-eight hours. I thought Bertha Cool would ride you to death. That’s why all of her other detectives walked out on her — and now, you’re the one who’s giving orders.”
“I’m going to make this order stick,” I said.
“I know you are. That’s what makes it so interesting. You don’t stand up and argue with Bertha. You don’t knuckle under to her. You just go ahead in your own sweet way, and the first thing anyone knows Bertha is muttering and grumbling, but tagging along after you and doing just what you tell her to.”
“Bertha’s all right when you get to understand her.”
“You mean when she gets to understand you. Trying to get friendly with her is like playing tag with a steamroller — the first thing you know, you’re flattened out.”
“Are you,” I asked, “all flattened out?”
She looked at me and said, “Yes.”
“You don’t seem like it.”