The two women, sitting huddled in a whispered conference, looked up in surprise.
Holcomb swung back to face Mason. “Holding out on me, eh? If I hadn’t been tipped off that she was on her way to your office, I’d have fallen for it… That sort of stuff isn’t going to get you any place, Mason.”
Mason said, “I don’t have to report to you when a client calls on me. I’m having a conference with these women.”
“Well, ain’t that too bad?” Sergeant Holcomb said. “That conference is going to wait until I ask a few questions… You two women were having some trouble with Albert Tidings, weren’t you?”
Abigail Tump took the conversational lead. “Certainly,” she said. “And the Hastings Hospital was having trouble with him. Mr. Tidings was a crook.”
“You know he’s dead?” Sergeant Holcomb asked.
“Yes. Mr. Mason told me.”
“All right,” Sergeant Holcomb said. “Now you went to Tidings’ office Monday afternoon to try and see him. He told his secretary to tell you that he’d talk with Byrl Gailord, but he’d be damned if he’d talk with you. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Tump said.
“But you did talk with him?”