I drew up a chair and sat down, nodded to Bertha Cool, and said, “Have a chair.”
The woman said, “I said for you to get out of here.”
I said, “Sit down and keep your shirt on. We’re going to ask you some questions.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
I said, “We’re detectives.”
She sat down as though the strength had oozed out of her knees. She looked at me with a face that was filled with despair.
I said, “It’s been rather a long, tedious trail, Flo, but we’ve unraveled most of it. You roomed with Amelia up in San Francisco. You found out all about her life history, and after she married Wilmen, you got possession of her papers, probably out of a trunk she’d left with you, or you may have stolen them. Anyway, you got them.”
“That’s a lie,” she said.
I said, “Recently, the political ring that was controlling Santa Carlotta wanted to find Mrs. Lintig. There was money in it. You were approached. You couldn’t find Amelia Lintig; perhaps because she’s dead, perhaps because she’s moved out of the state. But you convinced them you could do a good job of impersonation. You knew all about her background.
“You had certain things on which you wanted to check. You were pretty close to Evaline Harris who was working in the night spot where you were hostess. You arranged to send her up to Oakview and have her make the investigations. Particularly you wanted her to pick up all of the photographs of Amelia Lintig that could be found.”