Case of the Beautiful Beggar

Chapter 6

Mason had been back in his office less than an hour when Paul Drake’s code knock sounded on the door.

Della Street admitted the detective and Drake said, “Well, I’ve got Ralph Exeter pegged.”

“What about him?” Mason asked

Drake said, “Exeter’s real name is Cameron. His first name is a queer one — Bosley, B-O-S-L-E-Y. He’s from Las Vegas. He’s a gambler, and he’s holding Borden Finchley’s IOUs for over a hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“So that explains a lot,” Mason said.

“There’s more to it than that,” Drake went on. “Cameron became involved himself and, until he can get the money on those IOUs of Finchley, Cameron can’t get back in good standing with his own crowd. So Cameron is hiding out. That’s why he has taken the name of Ralph Exeter of Boston, Massachusetts.”

Mason said, “That’s darned good work, Paul. You did a wonderful job.”

Drake shook his head and said, “I didn’t really do anything. I just happened to cross the back trail of people who are trying to find Cameron.”

“How?”

“Well, it was just a combination of circumstances. Finchley gave a rather synthetic background of where he had been and what he had been doing, but the person that comes in to do the house cleaning noticed that there were Las Vegas stickers on his baggage when he first came there, and that Finchley was at great pains to scrub them off the second day he was there.

“You remember Finchley said they were driving in Exeter’s car. I traced the license plates on Exeter’s car. They were Massachusetts license plates all right, but I used the long distance telephone, got some quick action, and found the person who was registered as owning that car when it left Massachusetts.

“He went to Las Vegas, became involved in a gambling game, and this man Cameron, to whom he owed a little over a thousand dollars, offered to trade automobiles and give him the difference. The fellow had no alternative but to make the deal so they simply traded possession of the cars without going through the formality of getting registrations transferred. They felt they could do that later on when they applied for new licenses.

“Once I had that lead, I did a little telephoning in Las Vegas and found that Cameron was one of those big-shot gamblers who will be way up in the clouds one day and way down in the depths the next.

“He got wiped out in a poker game and had some IOUs floating around. He told friends that he had a pigeon who owed him a hundred and fifty grand and that the pigeon had it all made, but it was going to take a little while to cash in that he was going to ride herd on his pigeon until the money came in.

“Then Cameron disappeared.

“At first, the people who held Cameron’s paper were willing to wait but now they’re getting a little restless and they’d like very much to know where Cameron is.”

Mason grinned, said, “Now then, Paul, we’re beginning to get someplace. This is the sort of ammunition we can shoot.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t have it for the hearing,” Drake said.

“We’ll have it for the next round,” Mason told him.

The phone rang.

Della Street answered it, then looked inquiringly at Mason. “Will you talk with Mr. Darwin Melrose?” she asked.

“Certainly,” Mason said, and picked up the telephone. “Hello, Melrose. What can I do for you?”

Melrose was so excited he talked with machine-gun rapidity. “What the devil have you been up to? The title company tells me that an escrow was terminated, that a man made a final payment on property to Horace Shelby — a payment of fifty thousand dollars.”

“Yes?” Mason asked as Melrose stopped for breath.

“So we get at the Investors National and they said there wasn’t any money in the Shelby account. We asked them about that fifty thousand dollar deposit and they said it had all been checked out, that there had been two deposits made — one of fifty thousand and one of seventy five thousand, and they had a canceled check payable to Daphne Shelby for one hundred and twenty five thousand, which had wiped the account out.”

“Why, that’s right,” Mason said. “There’s no secret about that. We discussed that check in court. Your own client knew all about it.”

“Knowing about the check is one thing getting it cashed is another.”

“Well,” Mason said, “the check was left in the possession of Daphne Shelby. There was money in the bank to cover the check. The bank had a right to cash it and she had a right to present it.”

“But the bank knew a conservator had been appointed.”

“The bank had been advised that a conservator had been appointed for the account of Horace Shelby as the account stood at that time. Nothing was said about any future accounts or any future deposits.”

“Well, we didn’t think it was necessary since we were cleaning out the entire account.”

“I’m sorry if you misunderstood the situation,” Mason said. “But your order to the bank was very specific. It was ordered to turn over to the conservator the exact amount that was on deposit in Shelby’s account at the date the order was served.”

“I don’t like this,” Melrose said. “I don’t think the Court is going to like it either. It’s sharp practice.”

“I beg your pardon!” Mason said.

“I said it was sharp practice.”

“I think you misunderstood the situation,” Mason said with a grin. “It wasn’t sharp practice on my side, it was dull practice on yours. Go into court, if you want to, and see what the judge has to say about it.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Melrose said. “I’m going to ask the judge to make an order to show cause why you shouldn’t be found guilty of contempt of Court and an order demanding that you turn all of the money you received on that check over to the conservator.”

“That’s certainly your privilege,” Mason said. “Go ahead and make the motions in court and I’ll be there to answer them... Was there anything else you had in mind?”

Instead of answering the question, Darwin Melrose slammed the telephone back in place.

Mason grinned at Paul Drake and said, “You know, Paul, it’s a long worm that has no turning.”

Drake said, “I gather from your conversation that you slipped over a fast one?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Mason said judicially. “Darwin Melrose is one of those attorneys who wants to be specific. If he wants to describe a horse with a white, right hind leg, he makes the description read ‘a horse with one white, right hind leg.’

“Of course, he knew just what the balance was in Shelby’s account, so he made the order which he served on the bank specific — that they were to turn over to the conservator Shelby’s account consisting of exactly so many thousand dollars, so many hundred dollars and so many cents — right around a hundred and fifty six thousand dollars.

“Of course, it never occurred to him that someone might make a deposit in Shelby’s name.”

“And someone did?” Drake asked.

“Someone did,” Mason said.

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Oh, a little,” Mason admitted, with a grin. “We have carried out Horace Shelby’s wishes in part and, thanks to the information you have, we may be able to carry them out the rest of the way.”

“Your client?” Drake asked. “I take it you’ve seen she’s provided for?”

“She’s provided for.”

“Don’t you think she’s a little bit too naive?” Drake asked.

“What do you mean?”

“For a girl who’s been handling her uncle’s business affairs, writing all of his correspondence, more or less doing his thinking for him in matters running into a good many thousands of dollars, she seems just a little bit synthetic in her unsophistication.”

Mason regarded the detective with thoughtful eyes. “You know, Paul, I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ve been wondering if back of that school girl naive character there isn’t a pretty smart mind. But remember, the bank has been doing business with her for a long time. They’ve known the connection between her and her uncle and they’re for her all the way.”

“Oh, I think she’s all right,” Drake said, “but— I don’t know. Do you suppose she’s suspected the true relationship and just kept playing demure so that Horace Shelby would never know she suspected?”

Mason shrugged his shoulders. “I’m darned if I know, Paul. But— What do you think, Della?”

Della shook her head. “You don’t get me to express my opinion,” she said.

“You have one?”

“Yes.”

“And why don’t you want to express it?”

“I’m not sure of my grounds,” she said thoughtfully.

“Well,” Mason said, “we’re doing the best we can for her. She’s had a whole series of jolts but I think, in the long run, we’re going to come out all right.

“Who’s the doctor the Court is appointing, Paul?”

“I don’t know as yet,” Drake said, “but I’ve got a line out so I can find out just as soon as—” He was interrupted by the telephone.

Della Street picked up the phone, said, “It’s for you, Paul. Your office is calling on the unlisted line.”

Drake took the call, said, “Give me that name again,” said, “thanks,” hung up and turned to Perry Mason. “Okay, Perry,” he said, “the question is answered. The Court has appointed Dr. Grantland Alma as the Court’s doctor.”

Della Street immediately started riffling through the pages of the phone book, then furnished the supplemental information. “Here he is,” she said. “His office is 602 Center Building and his phone is Lavine 23681.”

“And,” Mason said, “any attempt to influence him will make him mad but there’s no reason why I, as an attorney, can’t try to see Horace Shelby before the doctor does.”

“You stand absolutely no chance,” Paul Drake said.

Mason grinned. “If they’ve got him shut off from all of his friends, it might be a good thing to know.”

The lawyer looked at his watch. “It’s a cinch the doctor is in his office now. He probably won’t try to see Shelby until tomorrow morning. Give his nurse a ring, Della.”

“The nurse?”

“Yes. One should always communicate with a doctor through his nurse.”

Della Street put through the call and nodded to Mason.

Mason said, “Hello, this is Perry Mason, the attorney, talking and I would like very much to talk with Dr. Alma on the telephone. If that is not possible, I would like to ask a question which he could answer. It is a matter of some urgency.”

The feminine voice at the ether end of the line said, “Well, this is his nurse. Perhaps you’d better give me the question. The doctor is busy now and has an office full of patients.”

Mason said, “Dr. Alma, who’s been appointed by Judge Ballinger to examine Horace Shelby sometime before a court hearing which is to take place—”

“Oh, I’m sure the doctor wouldn’t discuss that with you or with anyone,” the nurse said.

“I don’t want him to,” Mason said. “I am simply trying to find out if it would interfere with the doctor’s plans in any way if I went out to the Goodwill Sanitarium to visit Mr. Shelby.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t,” the nurse said. “Just so you don’t do anything to upset him or alarm him. You’re one of the attorneys in the case?”

“In the general case, yes,” Mason said.

“Just be careful not to disturb him in case he should be excitable.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “What room is he in, by the way?”

“He’s in one of the isolation units, I believe. Just a minute... Unit 17.”

“Thank you very much,” Mason said.

“You’re entirely welcome.”

“Please tell Dr. Alma I called.”

“I will.”

“Well,” Mason said, grinning as he hung up the phone, “if you want information, the way to go about it is to get it openly.”

Drake grinned. “A good private detective could have put in two days at fifty dollars a day getting you that information, Perry... You want me to go with you?”

“No,” Mason said, “I think I’ll go alone.”

“The party may get rough out there,” Drake warned.

“Under proper circumstances,” Mason said, “I have been known to get rough myself.”