Bertha said coyly, “I wish I were one-tenth as good as you think I am.”
I said, “I suppose you people/have told your story to Kleinsmidt.”
They nodded.
“He’s been checking up. You’ll hear more from him. He’s a persistent cuss. I’d say he might be dangerous.”
No one said anything for a few seconds, then Endicott said, “Yes, I have an idea you’re right.”
“Well, it might be just as well for us all to run over the facts and—” I broke off as I heard the pound of rubber heels in the corridor. Then as knuckles beat on the door, I said, “Even money that this is the law now.”
There were no takers. I opened the door. It was Kleinsmidt.
“Come in,” I said. “I wouldn’t doubt if someone is going to suggest breakfast.”
“Why, yes,” Whitewell said. “An excellent idea. Good morning, Lieutenant.”
Kleinsmidt didn’t do any pussyfooting. “I have a little checking up to do,” he said. “You, Whitewell, haven’t told me everything that happened last night.”