“Had breakfast?” Bertha asked.
“Yes.”
The day clerk at the desk smiled at us. I nodded and walked past him to the switchboard. Frieda Tarbing looked up with a perfectly blank face.
“Will you ring Mrs. Lintig,” I said, “and tell her that her dutiful nephew is in the lobby. Please ring very quietly because if she’s asleep I don’t want to disturb her.”
I saw a quick flicker of comprehension on Frieda Tarbing’s face. “Ring quietly?” she asked.
“Very quietly,” I said.
“I get you,” she said.
The clerk gave us the once-over then turned away. Frieda Tarbing went through motions at the switchboard and said, out of the corner of her mouth, “Do you really want me to ring?”
“No,” I said.
She raised her voice, and said, “Mrs. Lintig says for you to go right up. It’s forty-three A on the fourth floor.”