Cats Prowl at Night

9 Bertha Goes Fishing

Elsie Brand looked up from her typewriter as Bertha Cool entered the office.

“I’ll bet you forgot all about having a ten-thirty appointment with George K. Nunnely,” she said.

“I did for a fact,” Bertha admitted. “Was he in?”

“He not only was in, but he paced the floor and kept biting his upper lip. He was definitely nervous and annoyed.”

Bertha Cool flopped down in a chair, said, “Well, that’s what comes of fraternizing with cops. That damned detective barged in on me before breakfast this morning, made me feed him, and then dragged me around as though I’d been an assistant coroner or something... Hell of a note when I can’t take care of my own business. That’s important, too — a chance to clean up a little dough... Was he sore when he left?”

“I don’t know. He was certainly worried. He used the telephone twice while he was here.”

“Didn’t find out what number he was calling, did you?”

“No. He had me connect him with an outside line, and then dialled the number himself.”

“Leave any message?”

“He wanted you to call his office just as soon as you came in.”

Bertha grinned. “Gone a long ways from the poker-faced high-and-mighty big-shot that slammed up the phone in my ear, hasn’t he?”

“Personally, I think he’s almost crazy with worry,” Elsie said. “Who was the detective who called on you, Sergeant Sellers?”

“Uh huh.”

“I think he’s nice.”

“He’s all right if you like flatfeet,” Bertha said wearily. “I don’t. I just wish they’d leave me alone. They get delusions of grandeur. The way he busts in and orders me around! The hell with him.”

“What was it all about?” Elsie Brand asked.

“Looks as though Mrs. Belder has committed a murder.”

Elsie Brand’s eyes widened.

Bertha said, “It could have been an accident, but the cops don’t think so — and I don’t think so.”

“Who was the victim?”

“Sally Brentner, the maid in the house.”

“Any motive?”

“Jealousy.”

“Her husband?”

“A poison-pen letter indicated her husband was playing around with Sally and that Sally was staying on the job simply to be near him. And the hell of it is, Sally must have written that letter herself.”

“For what possible reason?”

“Probably to bring about a show-down. She was in love with Belder. Belder was stringing her along, but wasn’t leaving his wife. He couldn’t. His wife was holding the purse-strings — all of them. Anyway, that’s the theory that all of them are playing around with.”

“What does Mrs. Belder say?”

“Mrs. Belder remains very much out of the picture. She skipped out. She must have committed the crime before I started shadowing her. Probably while her husband was calling at the office.”

“This man, Belder, seems to be rather a complex individual. Women in his life — and lots of women. They seem to go crazy about him and keep coming back for more. The situation may have been precipitated by an old sweetheart who called on him at his office Monday, and went into a clinch as soon as the secretary had closed the door. Sally Brentner was having a tooth fixed at the time in a dental office across the street. From the chair in front of the window, she could look across into Belder’s office.”

“Did Mrs. Belder seem nervous when you were shadowing her?”

“No, she certainly didn’t act like a woman who had just committed a murder... Wait a minute! She must have committed it just after I shadowed her... That’s what happened! Good Lord, why didn’t I think of it before?”

Bertha’s voice began to show increasing excitement.

“What is it?” Elsie asked.

“I was shadowing her. She had just walked out of the house, casually carrying a pet cat on her arm, climbed into the automobile and was driving away — going some place to keep an appointment she’d made over the telephone. She didn’t have any bag with her, except a small hand purse. Then, all of a sudden, she whizzes past an intersection, beating it through on a closed signal, and gives me the slip; then she doubles back to the house, kills Sally, packs up a few things, and skips out... Why,” Bertha went on, her eyes sparkling with interest, “I can tell the exact moment when the idea of killing the woman occurred to her. It was right at that street intersection. Now what in the world could she have seen out there that would have suddenly inspired her to rush home and kill the maid?”

“You think something happened to give her the idea right then?” Elsie asked.

“Almost certain of it. She was driving along at slow speed, apparently just minding her own business, going out to keep a rendezvous with someone who had telephoned. And then all of a sudden she gets dumb and goes through this closed signal, makes a left-hand turn and drew a blank.”

“What,” Elsie asked, “are you going to do? Are you going to help Mr. Belder try and prove she’s innocent? Or is he going to stick by her?”

“Stick by her!” Bertha exclaimed. “He’s going to stick to her closer than a brother. Without her, he wouldn’t even have car-fare. He’s got to get her back and get the thing straightened out somehow.”

“Then you’re going to try and prove she’s innocent?”

“I,” Bertha Cool declared, “am going fishing.”

“I’m afraid I don’t get it.”

Bertha said, “The big trouble with this partnership when Donald Lam was here was that he never knew when to let go. Nothing seemed impossible to him. No matter how the cards were stacked against him, he’d keep on playing.”

“He always came out all right,” Elsie pointed out with a quick flare of feeling.

“I know,” Bertha conceded. “He always pulled out somehow by the skin of his eye teeth, but that’s too high-pressure stuff for me.”

“You mean you’re going to walk out on the case?”

“Walk out on the case, nothing,” Bertha retorted. “Just what case is there to walk out on? Belder wanted me to compromise a twenty-thousand-dollar judgment for twenty-five hundred dollars. All right, I’ve done it. What’s the result? Belder can’t get the money until he gets it out of his wife. He can’t find his wife because she’s skipped out after—”

“After what?” Elsie asked as Bertha ceased abruptly in mid-sentence.

“I just had a thought about that,” Bertha said. “She might have skipped out after killing Sally; then again, she might have skipped out after simply finding Sally’s body in the basement... Well, anyway, she’s skipped out. Belder can’t get the money to compromise the judgment until he can find his wife.”

“Don’t you suppose he’ll want to try to find his wife?”

“Probably. But what chance would I stand? The police are going to be looking for his wife, and the police are going to look a hell of a lot faster, and in a hell of a lot more places, than I can. No. I’m going fishing. That was the trouble with Donald — he didn’t know when to quit. I know when to quit. I’m going to quit before I lead with my chin and get into a lot of trouble.”

Bertha waved her hand vaguely toward the private office. “Any mail in there?”

“Half a dozen letters.”

“Important?”

“Nothing urgent.”

“All right, I’m going to duck out.”

“What’ll I tell Mr. Nunnely if he comes back?”

“Tell him I’ve been called out of town on business. Tell everyone just that — Belder, Sergeant Sellers and the whole outfit. I’m going to stay away until this thing settles down; then there may be a chance to pick up a little money. In the meantime I’d be sticking my neck out if I tried to do anything... Once you get really involved in a case, you can’t quit. Then you’ve got to ride it through to the finish. To hell with that stuff. I’m taking life easy. No more getting mixed up in a lot of trouble.”

“Where can I reach you in case anything important turns up?”

“At Balboa.”

“Suppose Sergeant Sellers wants you as a witness?”

Bertha’s face hardened into an expression of distaste. “Tell Sergeant Sellers to go— Well, tell him I’m out of town.”

“He may think you’re meeting Mrs. Belder somewhere.”

Bertha grinned. “Let him think so. I hope he does. I hope he tries to follow me. Damn him, I hope he chokes.”

Bertha gave a quick look around the office, started for the door.

The phone began to ring as Bertha had her hand on the knob.

Elsie Brand reached for the telephone, then held her hand over the receiver, lifting her eyebrows questioningly at Bertha Cool.

Bertha said, “If it’s going to bother your conscience to tell them I’m not here, this will fix it so you won’t have to lie about it.”

She jerked the door open and stepped out into the corridor.