Just a sec; I'll see." She buzzed another phone. "Jeff
Rand on the line," she announced.
A clear, slightly Harvard-accented male voice took over.
"Hello, Jeff. Now what sort of malfeasance have you committed?"
"Nothing, so far--cross my fingers," Rand replied. "I just want a little
information. Are you busy?... Okay, I'll be up directly."
He replaced the phone and turned to his disciples.
"Our client," he said, "wants two jobs done on one fee. Getting the
pistol-collection sold is one job. Exploring the whys and wherefores of
that quote accident unquote is the other. She has a hunch, and probably
nothing much better, that there's something sour about the accident. She
expects me to find evidence to that effect while I'm at Rosemont, going
over the collection. I'm not excluding other possibilities, but I'll work
on that line until and unless I find out differently. Five thousand
should cover both jobs."
"You think that's how it is?" Kathie asked.
"Look, Kathie. I got just as far in Arithmetic, at school, as you did,
and I suspect that Mrs. Fleming got at least as far as long division,
herself. For reasons I stated, I simply couldn't have handled that
collection business for anything like a reasonable fee, so I told her
five thousand, thinking that would stop her.
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