I said, “Roberta Fenn was feeling pretty low. She went to New Orleans. Edna Cutler was in New Orleans. She’s the wife of Marco Cutler. Marco was about to give her a terrific smear in a divorce action. Edna couldn’t face the music. She went to New Orleans, got Roberta to pose as her double. When the papers arrived to be served on Edna, the process server served them on Roberta.
“Marco Cutler got his divorce. He didn’t wait for the final decree. He married a wealthy woman who has ideas about such things. She may be going to have a baby. Edna Cutler chose that time to appear on the scene and calmly observe that she’d never heard of any divorce. It was a slick stunt. She’s got him over a barrel unless he can prove fraud or collusion.”
“Can he do that?”
“He might be trying.”
“How?”
“By hiring detectives.”
“What detectives?”
“Us.”
Bertha’s eyes kept blinking rapidly. “Fry me for an oyster,” she said at length, almost under her breath.
“Get it?” I asked.