Bertha said, “Drive around to the alley and tell the operative who’s watching the back that I’ll have a relief for him. Tell him to call up shortly before five. You can leave the agency car out in front.”
She looked at me. “Okay, lover?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s new?”
We started across the street towards the entrance of the apartment house. She avoided my eyes. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s have it. What’s new?”
“A telegram from the Bureau of Vital Statistics.”
“Saying what?”
“Amelia Sellar married John Wilmen in February of 1922. She was never divorced. There’s no record of the death of either Amelia or John Wilmen. Where does that leave us, Donald?”
“Right in front of the Key West Apartments,” I said, “with a tough job on our hands.”
“What are we going to say to her?”
“It’ll depend on how she reacts. You let me take the lead. Then you follow my play. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Today is probably the time they intend to spring their trap. There’s just time enough before election to let the news get exaggerated by word-of-mouth gossip. There isn’t time for any refutation.”