“Well,” I asked, “what’s new? Have you located Flo Mortinson?”
Bertha Cool nodded. “She’s Flo Danzer now,” she said. “She used to be Flo Mortinson. She’s staying at the Mapleleaf Hotel, keeps a room there by the month. She hasn’t been in that room for about a week, but I’m registered in the hotel and all moved in.”
“She have a trunk?” I asked.
“Uh-huh, and I’ve moved in a trunk big enough to cover hers no matter how big it is. I figured that’s what you wanted. Mine’s down in the basement. So’s hers.”
I said, “That’s swell. Let’s go do a little trunk lifting. What name did you register under?”
“Bertha Cool,” she said. “I didn’t see any reason for beating around the bush, and someone might know me anyhow.”
I said, “We’ll have to take a couple of suitcases full of old clothes along with us.”
“Why?”
“To act as padding in case your trunk is much too big. We don’t want hers rattling around inside of it.”
“Why not wait until morning?” Bertha asked. “It’s pretty late to pull a stunt like that.”