A. Fair - The Bigger They Come

‘Did he tell you that?’

‘That’s what I gathered from his conversation.’

She stood staring at me. Her eyes were round. There was an expression in them I couldn’t exactly classify. For a moment, I thought it might be fear.

‘Oh,’ she said.

Alma Hunter nodded to me. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.

It lacked five minutes to twelve when I reached the office. A sign on the door announced that no further applicants were being interviewed. There were still men coming in to answer the ad. Two of them were standing in front of the door reading the sign as I approached. They turned away and walked past me with the steady, mechanical tread of soldiers retreating from a lost battle.

Elsie Brand had finished her typing. She was seated at the desk with the left-hand top drawer open. She closed it as I opened the door.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t you supposed to read a magazine in between times?’

Her eyes looked me over, a head-to-foot glance. Then she slowly opened the left-hand drawer of the desk, and started reading again. From where I was standing, I could see that it was one of the movie magazines.

‘How about ringing our employer,’ I suggested, ‘and telling her that Operative Thirteen is in the outer office with a report to make?’

She looked up from the magazine. ‘Mrs. Cool’s at lunch.’

‘When will she be back?’

‘Noon.’

I leaned across her desk. ‘Under those circumstances, I have five minutes to wait,’ I said. ‘Would you prefer to talk with me or read the magazine?’

She said, ‘Do you have anything worth while to talk about?’

I met her eyes, and said, ‘No.’

For a moment, there was a faint flash of humor in her eyes. ‘I hate to listen to worth-while conversations,’ she admitted. ‘That’s a movie magazine in the drawer. I haven’t read The Citadel, Gone with the Wind, or any other worth-while books. What’s more, I don’t intend to. Now, what did you want to talk about?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘for a starter, how about discussing Mrs. Cool? What time does she go to lunch?’

‘Eleven.’

‘And gets back at twelve? And you leave at twelve and get back at one?’

‘Yes.’

I saw she was quite a bit older than my first estimate. I had figured her then as being in the late twenties. Now, she could have been in the middle thirties. She’d taken, care of her face and figure, but there was more than the suggestion of a line running down from her ears; and the crease under her chin, faint though it was, meant that she’d lived longer than the twenty-seven or twenty-eight years I’d given her on my first estimate.

‘I have Alma Hunter waiting for me in a car at the curb,’ I said. ‘If Mrs. Cool isn’t apt to be back on time, I’d better run down and tell her.’

‘She’ll be back on time,’ Elsie Brand said, ‘at any rate, within two or three minutes after twelve. That’s one thing about Bertha Cool. She believes a person is entitled to food, and she wouldn’t keep you waiting on your lunch hour.’

‘She seems to be quite a character,’ I said tentatively.

‘She is,’ Elsie Brand said.

‘How’d she happen to get in the detective agency field?’

‘Her husband died.’

‘There are lots of other things for a woman to go into to make a living,’ I said inanely.’

‘What, for instance?’ she asked.

‘She could have modeled gowns,’ I suggested. ‘How long have; you been with her?’

‘Ever since she opened up.’

‘And how long has that been?’

‘Three years.’

‘Did you know her before her husband died?’

‘I was her husband’s secretary,’ she said. ‘Bertha got me the job with him. She—’

Elsie Brand broke off as she heard the sound of steps in the corridor. Then a shadow formed on the ground glass of the entrance door, and Bertha Cool flowed majestically into the room. ‘All right, Elsie,’ she said. ‘You may go now. What do you want, Donald?’

‘I want to make a report.’

‘Come in,’ she said.

She strode into the private office, shoulders back, breasts and hips swinging loosely inside her voluminous, thin dress. It was hot outside, but she didn’t seem to mind the heat.

‘Sit down,’ she said. ‘Have you located him yet?’

‘Not the husband. I’ve talked with the brother.’

‘Well, get busy and locate him.’

‘I’m going to.’

‘Of course you are. How good are you at arithmetic?’

‘What’s the problem?’ I asked.

‘I’ve received a flat fee covering seven days’ work. If you work seven days on this job, I make a hundred and fifty dollars. If you work one day on it, I make a hundred and fifty dollars. If you clean up the case today, I have six days of your time to peddle to some other client. Figure that out, and tell me the answer. You’re not going to serve any papers hanging around this office. Get the hell out and serve those papers.’

‘I came by to make a report.’

‘I don’t want any report. I want action.’

‘I may need someone to help me.’

‘What for?’

‘I have to shadow a girl. I’ve located Morgan Birks’ girl friend. I have to tell her something to make her run to Morgan and then shadow her.’

‘Well, what’s holding you back?’

‘I’ve arranged for a car. Miss Hunter is going to drive me.’

‘All right. Let her drive. One other thing,’ she said. ‘As soon as you get Morgan Birks located, call Sandra.’

‘That may interfere with the service of the papers,’ I said.

She grinned. ‘Don’t worry about that. Financial arrangements have been duly and properly made.’

‘I may get into a mess. That’s a screwy family. Sandra Birks’ brother intimates there’s more to be said on Birks’ side of the case than on hers.’

‘We’re not paid to take sides; we’re paid to serve papers.’

‘I understand that, but there may be some trouble. How about giving me something to show I’m working for the agency?’

She looked at me for a moment, then opened a drawer in her desk, took out a printed form, and filled it in with my name, age, and description. She signed it, blotted it, and handed it to me.

‘Now how about a gun?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘I may get in a jam.’

‘No.’

‘Suppose I do?’

‘Fight your way out.’

‘I can do a lot more with a gun,’ I said.

‘You can do too much with a gun. You’ve been reading detective magazines.’

I said, ‘You’re the boss,’ and started for the door. She said, ‘Wait a minute. Come back here. While you’re here, I have something to say.’

I turned back.

‘I’ve found out all about you, Donald,’ she said in a motherly tone of voice. ‘You gave yourself away the way you looked through those legal papers this morning. I knew right away you’d had a legal education. You’re young. You’ve been in trouble. You weren’t trying to get work in a law office. When I asked you about your education, you didn’t dare to tell me anything about your law work.’

I tried to keep my face under control.

‘Donald,’ she said, ‘I know your real name. I know all about your trouble. You were admitted to the bar. You were disbarred for violating professional ethics.’

‘I wasn’t disbarred,’ I said, ‘and I didn’t violate professional ethics.’

‘The grievance committee reported that you did.’

‘The grievance committee were a lot of stuffed shirts. I talked too much, that’s all.’

‘What about, Donald?’

‘I did some work for a client,’ I said. ‘We got to talking about the law. I told him a man could break any law and get away with it if he went at it right.’