“Yes. Sit down. Mr. Mason wants to say something. I thought he’d better talk with you, since you’re handling the case.”
“What I have to say,” Mason said, taking the cigarette from his mouth and staring at the smoke which spiraled upward, “has to do with the Second Fidelity Savings & Loan.”
“Indeed!” Dimmick said, raising his bushy eyebrows.
“You’re attorneys for that institution,” Mason said. “Walter Prescott kept an account there. I can’t find out what’s in that account, when the deposits were made, nor in what form they were made. In fact, I can’t get a damn bit of information out of the bank.”
Dimmick made clucking noises with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I asked you if you wanted to cooperate,” he said at length. “You told me you didn’t.”
Cuff said, “Most embarrassing.”
“It’s going to be embarrassing for someone,” Mason warned.
“Let’s see,” Cuff inquired, “has Mrs. Prescott been appointed administratrix?”
“She’s filed a petition.”
“Evidently she won’t be charged with being an accessory,” Cuff observed.