Bertha beamed all over her face. She actually got up out of her chair to be the perfect hostess, telephoned room service, and had some cocktails sent up.
Whitewell said to me, “I suggested to Mrs. Cool that we might all dine together when I found that my son was coming. Have you been looking the town over?”
“Yes.”
“Find out anything?”
“A little.”
“Get a line on Miss Framley?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t talk with her, did you?”
“Yes.”
He studied me for a minute as though I’d said something he hadn’t expected to hear. Then he said with a little laugh, “I’ve taken Philip entirely into my confidence. Philip knows that Mrs. Cool is running a detective agency, and that I’ve employed her to find what happened to Corla Burke. He knows that you’re working for her, so if you’ve found anything that’s at all significant as a clue, you don’t need to hold it back.”