I laughed at that.
“Perhaps you know a lot more about Miss Fenn than you’ve told me?”
“You wanted me to find her, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I found her. We try to give results, and don’t bother our clients reporting methods, or talking about clues.”
He settled back once more in the car seat. “You’re a very unusual young man. I don’t see how you found out so much in so short a time.”
I said, “We get off here and walk the rest of the way. It’ll take five minutes.”
Hale was very much interested in the furniture, and the old-fashioned, high-ceilinged rooms. He walked out onto the porch, looked around at the plants, looked up and down the street, came back, tried the bedspring with the palm of his hand, and said, “Very, very nice. I think I’ll be able to rest here. And so Roberta Fenn lived here — very, very interesting.”
I told him he’d better try to get some sleep, left him there, went out, and hunted up a telephone booth where I’d be assured of privacy.
It took me half an hour dealing over the phone with a detective agency in Little Rock to find out that 935 Turpitz Building, the address given in Edna Cutler’s letter to Roberta Fenn, had been a mailing address only. It was a big office where a girl rented out desk space to small businessmen, did stenographic work, and forwarded mail.