Bertha Cool said, “Sit down, Donald.”
I sat down in the hard, straight-backed wooden chair.
Bertha Cool said to Smith, “Donald can find her if anyone can. He isn’t as young as he looks. He got to be a lawyer, and they kicked him out when he showed a client how to commit a perfectly legal murder. Donald thought he was explaining a technicality in the law, but the Bar Association didn’t like it. They said it was unethical. They also said it wouldn’t work.” Bertha Cool paused long enough to chuckle, then went on: “Donald came to work for me, and the first case he had, damned if he didn’t show ’em there was a loophole in the murder law through which a man could drive a horse and buggy. Now they’re trying to amend the law. That’s Donald for you!”
Bertha Cool beamed at me with a synthetic semblance of affection that didn’t mean a thing.
Smith nodded his head.
Bertha Cool said, “In nineteen hundred and eighteen, Donald, a Dr. and Mrs. James C. Lintig lived at 419 Chestnut Street, Oakview. There was a scandal, and Lintig took a powder. We’re not concerned with him. Find Mrs. Lintig.”
“Is she still around Oakview?” I asked.
“No one knows.”
“Any relatives?”
“Apparently not.”