The fat man started rocking violently back and forth in the chair. Bertha Cool said, “The next time I have any information you want, don’t try to get it by beating up one of my operatives. You get better service this way.”

Cunweather said, “We didn’t think Mr. Lam was going to be so difficult.”

“My operatives are all tough,” Mrs. Cool said. “I pick ’em that way.”

Cunweather said, “Let me talk to my wife, Mrs. Cool. I think we can make you a proposition. How about it, m’love? Would you like to step in the other room for a minute?”

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Cunweather said. “You’re doing fine.”

The chief turned back to Mrs. Cool. “We’re interested in hiring your agency for one particular purpose,” he said. “We want to get in touch with Morgan Birks’ sweetie. We want to find out how many safety deposit boxes she rented in her name. We want to find out where they are. We want that information fast.”

“How much is it worth?” Mrs. Cool asked.

“Suppose we say two hundred and fifty dollars for each box you tell us about.”

“How many are there?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Cool, and that’s a fact. Frankly, I’m not certain there are any, but I have my suspicions. I do indeed.”

“No soap,” she said. “I don’t think I could make any money at it.”

Cunweather said, “Now let’s be reasonable about this, Mrs. Cool. You know where this woman is. You won’t have to waste any time. Morgan Birks is pretty well hidden, and is going to stay pretty well hidden. He’s just a little too smart for the police. He had his sweetie rent some safety deposit boxes. There may be five. There may be two.”

“And there may not be any,” Bertha Cool said.

“There you go again,” Cunweather chuckled. “There’s that unique personality of yours coming to the front. It’s refreshing, but we aren’t getting anywhere, and seconds are slipping through our fingers. Now there’s Lam, a clever boy. He could go to this girl and have the information in no time.”

I said, “Count me out.”

Cunweather said, “Now, Lam, don’t be like that. You’re a nice boy. You should be more forgiving. After all, what happened tonight was just a matter of business.”

“Forget Donald,” Mrs. Cool said. “You make terms with me. I’ll take care of Donald.”

“We might make it three hundred dollars a box,” Cunweather said.

“No.”

“That’s our limit.”

Bertha Cool said, “I’ll give you a ring and let you know—after I’ve talked with Sandra.”

“We’d want your answer now.”

“You have it.”

Cunweather started rocking back and forth in his chair. Mrs. Cunweather said, “Ask her where Morgan Birks is now.”