“I can assure you she didn’t, Mrs. Cool.”
Bertha Cool settled back in exasperation. “Oh, you can, can you? Well, isn’t that just perfectly lovely? Are you accustomed to firing secretaries without having any reason whatever?”
“But, Mrs. Cool, I did have a reason. I’m trying to explain.”
“And I’m trying to find out,” Bertha said, with elaborate sarcasm. “I’ve been listening and listening, and you’ve been talking and talking, and you still haven’t explained, and I still haven’t found out. I don’t know whether there’s anything we can do about it or not.”
“Well, Mrs. Cool, to be perfectly frank with you, there were several things which entered into it. I am hesitating somewhat because I can’t put my finger upon any one particular thing and say that that was the determining factor. However, the girl was a little too conscious of her good looks. That is, a person walking into an office and seeing her would immediately wonder— Oh, well, you know.”
Bertha said, “I don’t, and apparently you don’t.”
“And another thing,” Belder went on, “is that she was indiscreet.”
“In what way?”
“She gave out information she had no right to give out.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. What did she give out?”
“Well, of course, Mrs. Cool, I— Hang it, it’s nothing I care to talk about.”
“It’s something I care to talk about,” Bertha said, “and you’ve got me into this mess, so it’s up to you to do what you can to get me out. Now, what information did she give out?”
“She was indiscreet.”
Bertha’s face coloured. “You talk just like a merry-go-round. And every time we come around to the place where the record starts repeating, damned if I don’t grab the brass ring and have to ride all over again. Pardon me for seeming impatient. Just keep right on. She was indiscreet. Why was she indiscreet? She gave out information. What was the information? Well, you see, she was indiscreet. Why was she indiscreet? Well, she’s good-Looking. What’s indiscreet about being good-looking? Well, there was information she gave out. Who did she give out information to? Well, she looks provocative. Anyone coming in the office would think— Go right ahead. When you start running down, perhaps you’ll say something.”
“It was what she told my mother-in-law,” Belder blurted.
Bertha’s eyes snapped with interest.
“Now we are getting somewhere. What did she tell Mrs. Goldring?”
“That I was going to compromise that Nunnely judgment as soon as I could get hold of Mabel, and that I was moving heaven and earth to find her for that reason.”
“What was wrong with that?” Bertha asked.
“Everything.”
“I don’t get you.”
“In the first place, the minute Mrs. Goldring knew I was trying to compromise that judgment, she’d try throwing monkey wrenches in the machinery just on general principles. In the second place, I’d been telling her how much I loved Mabel and how much it would mean to me if she walked out on me. I thought that perhaps some of that would get back to Mabel and might help the situation some. Now, if Mrs. Goldring thinks that my interest was purely financial— Well, you can see the predicament I’m in.”
“Why didn’t you tell your mother-in-law the stuff I told you to tell her? That you hoped your wife hadn’t left you, but that if she had, there were plenty of other women—”
“That may be good advice on general principles, Mrs. Cool, but it wouldn’t work in this particular instance. It sounded very logical in your office, but when I got home and faced my mother-in-law— Well, I thought this other way was better, that’s all.”
“I see. You got my advice but didn’t follow it, is that right?”
“In a way, yes.”
“All right. Let’s get back to this secretary of yours. She spilled that information to your mother-in-law. You found out about it. How did you find out about it?”
“Good heavens! How did I find out about it? I found out about it because my mother-in-law became hysterical; because she kept yapping at me that my entire interest in the matter was financial, and all I wanted my wife for was to get some money out of her.”
“This was before Sally Brentner’s body was discovered?”
“Yes, of course.”
“When?”
“To be exact, it was shortly before the office closed Wednesday afternoon. And after I’d had that dinned in my ears all night, I wasn’t in any mood to be charitable with Miss Dearborne.”
“Specifically then, you were all on edge when you came up to the office Thursday morning. That was yesterday. You were angry and worried and you hadn’t slept. You called Imogene into your office and proceeded to put her on the carpet. Is that right?”
“Yes, in a way.”
“Now, you knew that Sergeant Sellers was going to call on you that morning?”
“Yes.”
“And you had suggested that the interview should take place at the office rather than at the house?”
“That’s right. I wanted to keep my mother-in-law from nagging me about Mrs. Cornish.”
“And before we arrived, you called Imogene in and proceeded to tell her off?”
“Well — I’m afraid I rebuked her.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her she’d volunteered information that she’d no right to give.”
“What did she do?”
“She said she was simply trying to appease Mrs. Goldring; that she thought that was the best way to handle the situation.”
“Then what did you say?”
“I told her that I was capable of doing the thinking for the office.”
“All right. Go on. Then what happened?”
“Then she made some remark that I thought was a little impertinent and then is when I lost my temper. I told her she’d put me in a bad position because of her indiscretion.”
“What were the exact words you used?”
“I’m afraid I was angry.”
“What were the words you used?”
“I said she’d been shooting off her big mouth.”
“Then what?”
“That started her crying.”
“Well, go on. I can’t stand here and pump it out of you a word at a time. What happened? She started crying — then you fired her, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t. She got up and left the office without a word and went back to her typewriter.”
“Still crying?”
“I guess so. She was when she left the office.”
“So you got up and followed her out and—”
“No. To tell the truth, I didn’t.”
“What did you do?”
“I just sat here waiting — then you came in.”
Bertha said angrily, “Damn it, why didn’t you go ahead and fire her then and there and get it over with?”
“Because I wasn’t certain I was going to discharge her at the time. I’d lost my temper and I wanted to think it over. I—”
“But you intended to fire her just as soon as she’d calmed down — just as soon as you could do it without making a scene?”
“I’m not certain that I did. To be frank with you, Mrs. Cool, I didn’t know exactly what to do.”
“You certainly didn’t intend to let her keep on working for you,” Bertha said.
“Well, I wasn’t certain but what I’d been at fault — at least partially.”
Bertha said with exasperation, “My God! How many times do I have to lead you up to the trough before you take a drink?”