I walked back to the operatives on duty and told them to report to Bertha at the Westmount Hotel, and, in case there was no answer there, to ring the agency and report to Miss Brand.
I was half-way back to the drugstore when Bertha showed up with a taxi. I climbed in, and we drove to the Westmount Hotel in silence. Bertha had a morning paper clamped under her arm, but she wouldn’t let me see it.
Chapter Thirteen
We registered as Mrs. Cool and Donald Cool. Bertha said, “My nephew and I would like two rooms with a connecting bath. I’m expecting some telephone calls. Please be certain they’re handled without delay. Our baggage will come later.”
She flashed her diamonds again, and the gang in the hotel fell all over itself giving us service.
In the rooms, I waited until the bellboy had left and then put through a call for the Key West Apartments. When I heard Frieda Tarbing’s voice on the line, I said, “Call Bertha Cool at the Westmount Hotel for any tip-off. We’re in six-twenty-one. Better make a note of the number.”
“Very well,” she said. “There’s nothing at present. I’ll call you back.”
I said, “Are you always as good-natured when you’re pulled out of a deep sleep?”
“Was I good-natured?” she asked.
“Yes. Mrs. Cool said you were one woman in a million, that I’d better lay siege to your heart and marry you before some other guy grabbed you off.”