The Case of the Golddigger’s Purse

20

The orchestra was playing one of the old-time waltzes. Lights had been turned down and blue spotlights shining on the dome above the dance floor gave the place the appearance of summer moonlight, showing the forms of couples waltzing slowly.

Mason’s lips brushed Della Street’s cheek. “Happy?” he asked.

“Yes, darling,” she said softly. “And it’s lovely not to be going to jail!”

A waiter came hurrying toward them, caught Mason’s eye, made frantic signals.

Mason guided Della Street over toward him, then, on the edge of the dance floor they ceased moving their feet but kept swaying to the rhythm of the music. “What is it?” Mason asked.

“A Lieutenant Tragg has called up. Says he’s from Homicide and to convey the message to you that you win all the way along the line, and that Sally Madison is to be released at midnight. He wants to know if you care to talk to him?”

Mason grinned. “He’s on the line?”

“Yes.”

Mason said, “Kindly give him my thanks — tell him that I’ll be there in time for the ceremonies, and that I’m too agreeably engaged at the moment to talk with anyone except my partner.”

The waiter turned away. Mason guided Della Street back toward the center of the dance floor.

“Poor Sally Madison,” Mason said, “she was willing to take a chance on the death chamber in order to save the man she loved.”

Della Street looked up at him. “You can’t blame her for that. It’s... it’s feminine nature.”

Mason said, “It surprises some people, Della, to think you find as much loyalty in the Sally Madisons of the world as you do in women who have followed all the rules.”

Della Street lowered her eyes. “It’s the way a woman’s made, Chief. She’ll do anything for the man she loves — anything.” Then she added hastily, “What time is it, Chief? We don’t want to be late getting to the jail.”

“We won’t,” Mason assured her, circling her waist with his arm, as the music ended. “I even think,” he added as the lights blazed into brilliance and they started back toward their table, “that Lieutenant Tragg might be grateful enough to delay things a few minutes for us. And the next time you go places with a golddigger, Della, take a look in the purse first.”

Della Street laughed. “I probably won’t,” she said. “You and I learn everything from our adventures except prudence.”

“That’s the way I like to have it,” Mason said, grinning at her.