“I suppose you completed your business in Oakview, and turned the information over to the husband?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, if you want your claim settled fast, give me his name and address, let me call on him, and get his verification. I could include it in my report, and that would satisfy the company.”
“Well, I can’t do it.”
“That, of course, leaves us right where we started.”
“Look here,” she said. “This was my own trunk, my own wearing apparel. It’s my own claim. No one needs to know anything about it. That is, the person who sent me mustn’t know anything about it.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be taken out of my sal — compensation.”
“I see,” I said, snapped my notebook shut, put it in my pocket, and closed my fountain pen. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said dubiously. “I’m afraid the boss will want more information. This is full of holes.”
She said, “There’s a bottle of Scotch in it for you if you get me a cheque.”