“All right,” I said, “she’s your friend. You won’t say anything against her. There’s no use wasting time trying to argue about it. Now, go ahead and tell me the rest of it.”

“The rest of what?”

“The rest of what’s worrying you.”

“I think she’s got some money that belongs to Morgan Birks.”

“Where did she get it?”

“It’s pay-off money. I think there were some safety deposit boxes in her name, or perhaps she’d an assumed name for those boxes. Morgan gave her money to put in there—I think it was money he had been given for bribery or something. I don’t know. But anyhow, Sandra doesn’t intend to let him get that money back.”

“I take it,” I said, “that when she plays marbles, she plays for keeps.”

“Well, can you blame her?” Alma Hunter asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “yet.”

“Well, what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of everything.”

“Of Morgan Birks?”

“Yes.”

“And is Sandra afraid of him?”

“No, and that’s what bothers me. I think she should be.”

“Did you read the divorce complaint?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice that she was trying to grab everything in sight? She wants to cash in on the life insurance, have a receiver appointed for the property, collect temporary alimony and attorney’s fees, have a share of the community property awarded to her, and an allowance by way of alimony.”

“That’s what the lawyer put in. Lawyers always do that.”

“Is that what Sandra told you?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

“You’re right about Sandra; when she starts fighting, she fights,” she said. “She was always that way. One night a boy friend wasn’t going to go home. He got rough, and Sandra was going to hit him with one of her golf clubs. She’d have done it, too.”

“What stopped her?”

“I did.”

“What happened to the boy friend?”

“He was frightened. I talked him into going home. He wasn’t a friend, just an acquaintance.”

“All right. Go on.”

“Well, Sandra acts as though she were keeping something back from me, and I’m afraid she is. I think she’s trying to take some advantage of Morgan. I don’t know just how or what, and—well, I want you to find out and see what you can do to make her—well, be reasonable.”

“And that’s all?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“How about you? Wasn’t there something you wanted?”

She looked at me appraisingly for a moment, then slowly shook her head and said, “No.”