“How long had they been married when she disappeared?”
Bertha looked at Smith, and Smith shook his head. Bertha Cool kept looking at him, and he said finally, in that precise, academic manner which seemed characteristic of him, “I don’t know.”
Bertha Cool said, “Get this Donald. We don’t want anyone to know about this investigation. Above all, no one is to know who our client is. Take the agency car. Start now. You should get there late tonight.”
I looked at Smith and said, “I’ll have to make inquiries,” and Smith said, “Certainly.”
Bertha said, “Pose as a distant relative.”
“How old is she?” I asked.
Smith knitted his brows thoughtfully, and said, “I don’t know exactly. You can find that out when you get there.”
“Any children?”
Smith said, “No.”
I looked across at Bertha Cool. She opened a drawer In her desk, took out a key, unlocked a cash box, and handed me fifty dollars. “Keep expenses down, Donald,” she said. “It may be a long chase. We’ll have to make the money go as far as possible.”