“You haven’t been out of the room?”
“No, and, what’s more, I haven’t even dared to have then bring me anything to eat. I put a ‘don’t disturb’ sign on the door and sat tight. If, as the radio says, the police are looking for me — well—”
“Now we’re getting to it,” Bertha said. “Why don’t you want the police to find you?”
“I don’t mind,” Kosling said, “after I’ve found out exactly what happened; but from what I heard over the radio, that trap was set for me. Bollman simply happened to walk into it. That’s what I must clear up. I want to find out about who could want to kill me.”
“We’re coming to that,” Bertha said. “It’s a blind man.”
“How do you know?”
“From the way the trap was rigged up. Sergeant Sellers has given me everything the police have on it. It’s almost certain that it was a blind man who did it.”
“I can’t believe it’s possible. I can’t believe that one of my associates would do a thing like that.”
“How about someone else?”
“No. My associates knew my house, the people who are in my little club. They’re not all blind. One of them has both legs and an arm off. There’s seven of us who are blind.”
“That leaves six others besides yourself. Are they familiar with your house?”
“Yes. They’ve all been there. They’ve all seen Freddie.”
“Who’s Freddie?”
“My pet bat.”
“I see. Had him long?”
“Quite a while. I leave my door open because of him.”
“Well, Sellers thinks the trap was baited for you by another blind man. That leaves six suspects. Is that right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Why did Bollman go to your house?”
“I can’t understand. He must have left for the house just as soon as he went out of my room here in the hotel—”
“Exactly,” Bertha said. “That means he’d planned to do it quite a bit earlier.”
“How much earlier?”
“I don’t know. Sometime on the trip out here. Sometime after leaving Los Angeles.”
“Why?”
“There’s only one reason. It was something you said to him, something that made it important for him to get into your house. There are only two things I can think of.”
“What?”
“The flowers and the music box.”
“Oh, I hope nothing’s happened to my music box.”
“I think it’s all right. Did you tell Bollman about your pet bat?”
“I can’t remember.”
“This bat lives there in the house all the time?”
“Yes. He’s very affectionate. When I come in, he always flutters up against my face and snuggles there for a while. I want pets. I like them. I can’t keep a dog or a cat.”
“Why not?”
“Because they can’t be self-supporting and I can’t wait on them. While I’m away, I’d have to leave them locked up in the house, and then the problem of feeding them, of giving a dog exercise, of letting a cat in and out. No, I have to have a pet that’s self-supporting. There was an old woodshed out in the back of the house, and this bat lived there. I finally got him tame, and now he stays in the house. I leave the door open, and he can fly in and out. It makes no difference whether I’m there or not. He can come and go and live hi, own life — support himself.”
Bertha switched the subject abruptly. “You told Bollman that I’d located Josephine Dell for you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell him you had her address?”
“I think so.”
“And you’re certain you told him about getting the bouquet and the music box?”
“Yes.”
“That seem to excite him?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell. His voice didn’t show it. I couldn’t see his expressions, you know.”
“But something excited him. It must have. He went back to your house to get something or to do something, and walked into the trap that had been set for you.”
“That’s the thing I can’t understand.”
Bertha looked up and said, “It’s the most exasperating damn situation.”
“What is?”
“This whole business. You’ve got some information that I want.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Bertha said, “and the hell of it is, you don’t either. It’s something that doesn’t occur to you as being at all important, something that you must have mentioned in driving out here with Bollman.”
“But what could it possibly be?”
“It had something to do with that automobile accident,” Bertha Cool said.
“I think I’ve told you everything.”
“That’s it. You think you’ve told me everything you told Bollman. You haven’t. There’s something that’s terribly significant, something that means a lot of money to a lot of people.”
“Well, what are we going to do? Get in touch with the police and tell them the story?”
Bertha said grimly, “And have the police spill the whole thing to the papers? Not by a hell of a sight!”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m on the trail of something that’s going to give me a fifty per cent cut of at least five thousand dollars, and if you think I’m going to toss twenty-five hundred bucks out of the window, you’re crazy.”
“But I don’t see where that has any connection with me.”
“I know you don’t. That’s the hard part of it. You’re going to have to sit down with °me and talk. Just keep on talking. Try and talk over the things you discussed with Bollman, but, no matter what it is, keep talking.”
“But I’ve got to eat. I can’t get out of here, and I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Bertha said. “Come on down to my room. I’ve got some woman’s clothes that will fit you. You’re going out with me as my mother. You’ve just had a slight stroke, and you’re walking very slowly, leaning on my arm. You aren’t using a cane.”
“Think we can do it all right?”
“We can try.”
“I would like to have it appear that — well you know the time I was here.”
“Why?”
“So that in case — well, in case the police should accuse me of killing Bollman, I could show them that I’d been right here in the hotel all the time.”
Bertha Cool pursed her lips, gave a low whistle, and then said, “Fry me for an oyster!”
“What’s the matter?” Kosling asked.
Bertha said, “You haven’t an alibi that’s worth a damn.”
“Why not? I couldn’t drive out to Los Angeles, kill Boll-man, and then drive all the way back here by myself.”
“No, but you could have done all that, then had someone else drive you out here, and cook up this nice-sounding story.”
“If Bollman didn’t bring me out here, who did?” Kosling demanded.
Bertha Cool frowned at him. “That,” she said, “is what I’ve been trying to think of for the last minute. But I know who Sergeant Sellers will say did it — now.”
“Who?” Kosling asked.
“Me! And I’ve put my fist on the hotel register downstairs.”
Chapter XXV
Bertha Cool stood Kosling up on the chair and said, “Now keep your balance. Here, put up your hand. No, the other hand. Now you can reach the chandelier — now, stay perfectly still because I’m going to let go of you.”
Bertha gently withdrew her hands.
“It’s all right,” the blind man said. “I’m all right now.”
Bertha, surveying the effect, said, “But I can’t have you holding your arm up that way. Wait a minute. I’ll give you something else to hang on to.”
She moved a high-backed chair over beside him and said, “Here, put your hand on this. Let me guide it. There it is. Now, just hold still and let me get this hem.”