The door opened. Mrs. Goldring, her face swollen from weeping, accompanied by a solicitous Carlotta, entered the office.
Mrs. Goldring’s face brightened just a bit at sight of Bertha. Carlotta’s nod and smile were cheerful greetings. “Good morning, Mrs. Cool. May we see you for a moment? Mother’s had this terrible shock, but — well, some things just can’t wait. We’d like to talk with you for a few moments.”
“Go right on into my private office,” Bertha said, “right on in and sit down. I’ll be with you in just a moment. I’m finishing some important dictation to my secretary. Just go on in and make yourselves at home. You’ll pardon me while I finish dictating.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Goldring murmured, “we appreciate this.”
“It’s so nice of you to see us right away,” Carlotta said.
Bertha watched them enter her private office, then turned to Elsie. “This,” she announced, “is it!”
“An opportunity to let go?”
Bertha smiled. “An opportunity to cash in, dearie. Don’t ever kid yourself, Mrs. Goldring may be prostrated with grief, but through her tears of sorrow she sees everything that’s going on. That woman is no one’s damned fool, and she’s the slice of bread that has the butter.”
“I’m afraid I don’t get you.”
“Figure it out,” Bertha said in a low voice. “There’s an estate of God knows how much money. Everett Belder cashed in and put everything in his wife’s name. He kills his wife so he can have his freedom, and at the same time get all of that money back. Mrs. Goldring had just about persuaded her daughter to pull out and take the money with her. You can see what a beautiful tug-of-war that was making. And Everett Belder has made it plain that he’s finished with me, so I’m perfectly free to take employment from Mrs. Goldring.”
“But how could you change the property rights?”
“Don’t you get it?” Bertha said. “Under the law, a man can’t inherit property from any person whom he has murdered, regardless of a will or anything else. I know that’s the law, because Donald told me so once. Now, you just sit here and pound away at the typewriter so the office will look busy as hell, and Bertha’s going in and cut herself a great big slice of cake.”
Bertha straightened her sagging shoulders, got her chin up and the old look of complete self-confidence on her face. “I know what Donald would do, Elsie. He’d manipulate things around in some way so that he’d pick up this job on a percentage basis. Then he’d use this clue that no one else knows about to pin the murder on Everett Belder, dump the estate into Mrs. Goldring’s lap, and collect a percentage. Hell’s bells, Elsie, we might even get as much as ten per cent; and the estate’s probably worth seventy-five thousand dollars. That would be seventy-five hundred dollars jangling the bell in our cash register.”
“Yes,” Elsie agreed, “I think Donald probably would do something just like that and then handle it in such a way that Sergeant Sellers would be very, very grateful instead of angry.”
Determination glinted in Bertha’s eyes. “And that’s what I’m going to do.”
Elsie seemed just a little dubious.
“First rattle out of the box,” Bertha said, “I’m going to do some real salesmanship. I’ve been studying sales psychology and I’m going to go to work on that woman and get a percentage of the estate. She thinks that she can employ me on a per diem basis. I’ll be subtle about it, but determined. Watch the way I handle it, Elsie. This is where Bertha crashes into the big time.”
Bertha grabbed some letters from Elsie’s desk without even bothering to look at them. She held them in her left hand well in front of her, put on her most businesslike air of weighty importance, cleared her throat, and pounded across the reception-room, bustling into her own office, closing the door crisply, and smiling reassuringly at her visitors.
She flung herself into the squeaking swivel chair, cleared a space in front of her on the desk, put down the correspondence she had been holding, and looked past Carlotta to give Mrs. Goldring the benefit of her most sympathetic smile.
“I know how absolutely useless it is to try to assuage grief by words. All I can say is that you have my sincere sympathy.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Goldring said in the toneless voice of a woman whose perceptions are dulled by a great shock.
Carlotta, sharply businesslike, intruded upon the brief conversational pause which followed. “Mrs. Cool, something terrible has happened — something that has upset Mother so much I’m really afraid she may have a complete nervous breakdown.
Coming on top of the shock of Mabel’s death, it is almost too much for her to bear.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Mrs. Goldring said weakly.
Carlotta, as crisp as a cold lettuce leaf, went on, “Now, before we go any further, Mrs. Cool, I understand that Everett has severed any further connection with you. You’re not employed by him any longer and are not obliged to tell him anything. Is that right?”
“That’s the size of it,” Bertha said grimly. “He thought I’d bungled things up, and he washed his hands of me, and I’m glad he did.”
“Of course,” Carlotta went on, “we have to be very careful. We can’t make any certain direct accusations, not as things stand at the present time; but I think we all understand the situation. And I think we can carry on this conversation in the light of what we might call an unspoken understanding.”
Bertha merely nodded.
“After all,” Carlotta hurried to add, “we can’t afford to jeopardize our positions. You understand what I mean. Everett’s secretary is suing you over something you said.”
“I was just trying to clear up the case,” Bertha snorted, “and that damned little — estimable young lady — goes ahead and files a suit.”
“I know just how you feel, but I don’t see anything estimable about her, Mrs. Cool.”
“My lawyer says she should be an estimable young lady until after the trial.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned,” Carlotta said positively, “she’s just a little—”
Mrs. Goldring coughed.
“Well,” Carlotta finished lamely, “I’m very glad that she’s no longer connected with Everett’s office. I always thought she had a certain air of possessive intimacy. Good heavens, one would have thought she owned the office.”
“She always seemed very conscious of her sex,” Mrs. Goldring said, in the impersonal manner of one who has been so completely detached from mundane affairs that human relationships have ceased to have any great meaning. “She was very provocative in her manner — I mean sexually provocative.”
“Mother’s terribly upset,” Carlotta said. “I’ll do the talking.”
Bertha half turned so as to face Carlotta.
Carlotta had the manner of a young woman who has been kept somewhat in the background of life, and then, in a time of great emotional stress, comes forward to prove herself capable of accepting responsibilities. She seemed to enjoy the role very much, and quite apparently had definitely accepted full and complete charge of the situation.
“A matter has arisen, Mrs. Cool, on which we will want your assistance.”
Bertha said, “Will, that might be arranged, if I could do you some good. In my business I tell all my clients that I prefer not to accept one penny from them unless I can do them some good. I’ve found that quite frequently a percentage arrangement works to advantage. You know, get a percentage of what you bring in. In that way I can afford to devote every minute of my time to their work.”
Bertha paused hopefully.
Carlotta Goldring said quickly, “Yes indeed, Mrs. Cool, I’m sure that you give your clients the very best that you have in you.”