The Case of the Borrowed Brunette

Chapter 1

At this hour, Adams Street was a pedestrian’s no man’s land. Stretching between the business and the residential districts, it was far enough from the shopping centers so that people having occasion to use the street walked only far enough to make connections with the nearest streetcar or bus.

Perry Mason, having concluded a difficult case in one of the outlying courts, was driving slowly, relaxing after the nerve strain of a courtroom battle. Della Street, instinctively knowing Mason’s moods, as befitted a good secretary remained silent.

Mason was always interested in people, and his eyes occasionally strayed from the road ahead when breaks in traffic enabled him to scrutinize such pedestrians as were on the street. Now he slowed, moved over to the extreme right-hand lane of traffic. The car was rolling along at a scant fifteen miles an hour.

“Notice it, Della?” he asked.

“What?”

“The street corners.”

“What about them?”

“The brunettes.”

She laughed. “Window-shopping?”

“No, no,” Mason said impatiently. “Look at them. Every street corner has a brunette standing waiting. They’re all dressed in dark clothes, all wear some sort of a fur around the neck. — Here’s another one at this corner. Notice her now as we pass.”

Della Street studied the trim brunette who was standing as though waiting for a streetcar on a street where there were no streetcar tracks.

“Neat,” she said.

Mason said, “Bet you five bucks there’s another one at the next corner.”

“No takers.”

The next corner also held a brunette almost identical in appearance. She too was wearing a dark dress with silver foxes around her neck.

“How long,” Della Street asked, “has this been going on?”

Mason said, “I’m ashamed to say I don’t know. I’ve seen five or six of them. Let’s go back and see how many of them there are.”

Mason watched his opportunity, made a U-turn, and sped back along the boulevard. Della Street, knowing how much of his success was due to his ability to make instantaneous appraisals of character, and to a sympathetic understanding of human nature, saw nothing unusual in the fact that Mason should interrupt a busy schedule to count the brunettes who were standing at corners on the south side of Adams Street.

“Well,” Mason said at length, “we seem to have passed them. I count eight.”

“Check,” she said smiling.

“And Lord knows how many more were ahead of us there when we turned back. What say, Della? Do we take a chance on having this first one cry, ‘Wolf, wolf’?”

“You can’t be ruled off for trying,” Della said.

Mason once more made a U-turn.

“There’s a parking space there right next to the corner,” Della Street said. “We can’t overlook an opportunity like that.”

“Can’t for a fact,” Mason admitted, swinging his car in close to the curb.

The brunette flashed them a glance of quick interest, then became studiously absorbed in watching the traffic, ignoring their obvious scrutiny.

As Mason got out of the automobile he said, “You’d better come along to lend an air of quasi-respectability to this, Della.”

Della Street slid out of the car with a quick, lithe motion and inserted her hand in Mason’s arm.

Mason walked up to the young woman and raised his hat.

The girl instantly swung toward him and flashed a smile. “Are you Mr. Hines?” she asked.

“The great temptation is to say yes,” Mason told her.

She ceased smiling. Her eyes, becoming wary, sized up Mason and Della Street. “Surely not one of those things,” she said coldly.

“Hardly,” Della Street said, assuming her most friendly manner.

The girl said abruptly to Perry Mason, “Is this a joke? I’ve seen you before. I know you... Oh,” she said, “now I have it. I saw you in court. You’re Perry Mason, the lawyer.”

Della Street nodded. “And I’m his secretary. Mr. Mason couldn’t help wondering about all of you being here.”

“All of us?”

“Every street corner for blocks,” Mason said, “has a brunette wearing a dark dress and a fur.”

“How many blocks?”

“At least eight.”

“Yes, I’d supposed there’d be quite a few applicants.”

“Know any of them?” Mason asked.

She shook her head, then after a moment said, “I know one of them — my roommate and pal, Eva Martell. I’m Cora Felton.”

“And I’m Della Street,” Della said, and then added laughingly, “And now that we’re acquainted, would you mind telling us what it’s all about? Mr. Mason won’t settle down to work as long as he has an unexplained mystery on his mind.”

Cora Felton said, “It’s a mystery to me too. Did you by any chance see the ad?”

Mason shook his head.

She opened her purse, took out a want ad that had been torn from a paper, and handed it to Mason. “It started with this,” she said. The ad read:

“And you applied for the job?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“By telephone?”

“That’s right.”

“And talked with Mr. Hines?”

“I talked with a man who said he was Mr. Hines’s representative. He said that I was to wear a dark suit and be sure to have some sort of a fluffy fur around my neck, go to this corner promptly at four o’clock this afternoon, and wait here until five. In the event I was not selected, I would be given ten dollars for my trouble.”

“When did you answer the ad?”

“About eleven o’clock this morning.”

“It was in this morning’s paper?”

“Yes. That is, it was in a trade paper widely read by actresses. It was published this morning.”

“I presume you were advised that there were other applicants?”

She laughed and said, “I knew it. Within an hour after I telephoned, my roommate — Eva Martell — came in and I told her about it, and she rang up. She’s a brunette of almost exactly my build. We can wear each other’s clothes, even to gloves and shoes.”

“And what did Mr. Hines tell her?”

“Not Mr. Hines — the man who said he was Mr. Hines’s representative. He told Eva to meet him at four o’clock at a point four blocks farther down the street. So there must have been three other applicants accepted for consideration between the time I applied and the time she phoned.”

Mason looked at his watch. “Well, it’s five minutes to five now. You’ve been here since four?”

“That’s right.”

“Notice anything unusual? Anyone looking you over?”

She laughed at him and said, “Heavens, Mr. Mason, everyone in the city has been looking me over. I never felt so conspicuous in my life. I’ve had wolves bark at me, coyotes yelp, and airedales whistle. People on foot have tried picking me up. People in automobiles have offered to take me wherever I wanted to go, and other people have just twisted their necks half off.”

“And yet you haven’t been asked to take the job?”

“Not even a tumble from Mr. Hines. I suppose, of course, he must either have looked me over, or had his representative do so. When I decided to come here, I made up my mind I’d get a good look at whoever was sizing me up. But — well, you just take any girl who answers that description and let her stand unescorted on a street corner such as this for an hour, and you’ll see how much chance she’d have to separate the wheat from the chaff!”

Mason nodded. “Very, very shrewd,” he said, admiringly.

“What was?”

“The way Hines prevented you girls from spotting him when he was sizing you up. He was very careful to select a street that was just right for his purpose — not so far out as to frighten you, not so close to the shopping district that you would be inconspicuous in the crowd. As it was, this street was so public that you were willing to come here, yet sufficiently uncrowded so that every wolf would spot you. Hines could have walked past here two or three times, even stopped to make a pass at you, but you wouldn’t be able to tell him from the rest of the wolves.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“It was very cleverly handled. But that ten-dollar payoff is interesting, and it’s about due. I wonder if you’d have any objection if we waited to see... ”

He broke off as a man, walking rapidly down the sidewalk, veered in toward the little group at the corner, raised his hat, and said, “Miss Felton?”

“Yes.”

“I represent Mr. Hines, and I’m sorry to advise you that the vacancy has been filled. You are to receive ten dollars for your trouble in coming here, and Mr. Hines asked me to see that you get this ten-dollar bill. Thank you. Good-by.”

The man thrust the bill into Cora Felton’s hand, raised his hat and started on down the street, his right hand dropping to his coat pocket, his left hand holding a card on which a list of names had been written.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Cora Felton called. “I’d like to find out... ”

He turned. “I’m sorry — that’s all I know, Miss Felton. I was given that message to deliver. I don’t even know what it means myself. Good afternoon.” And he proceeded rapidly across the street.

“Can you beat that?” Cora Felton said. And then added philosophically, “Well, I’m ten bucks to the good anyway. He could have gypped me out of that easy as not.”

Mason said, “I’m going on down the street. How would you like to jump in the car, drive four blocks down to where your friend is waiting, and get a chance to interview Mr. Hines’s representative once more?”

Her eyes smiled into his. “Say, that’s something! I’d love it.”

“Hop in,” Mason invited.

They drove on down Adams Street in time to see the man paying olf the girl at the next corner.

“It’ll be two more streets,” Cora Felton said.

Mason drove his car down past two more corners where brunettes were waiting and pulled in close to the curb as he approached the third corner.

Cora Felton said, “She’ll be thrilled to death to meet you, Mr. Mason. She’ll be right here... Why, that’s funny — I don’t see her.”

Mason brought the car to a full stop. Cora Felton opened the door, looked carefully around on all four of the corners, and said with a laugh, “Well, she’s gone home. She wasn’t too enthusiastic about it anyway. Eva isn’t the kind to stand around waiting on street corners. — Well, thanks a lot, Mr. Mason, and I certainly enjoyed meeting you. I’ll really have something to tell Eva when I get home.”

Mason said, “I’m going toward town. Are you by any chance headed that way?”

“We have an apartment out on West Sixth Street. If you’re going in that direction... I don’t want to put you out any.”

“That’ll be fine. It’s just as easy to go that way as any other.”

Cora Felton settled back in the seat. “This is a real thrill. I’m going to make Eva’s eyes pop out. I’ll probably beat her home.”

Mason made time through traffic and brought his car to a stop in front of the apartment house.

“I don’t suppose I could interest you folks in a drink?” Cora Felton asked, and then added, laughing, “You’d have an opportunity to meet the woman who was to have been our chaperone in case we landed the job. And you’d really get a kick out of her.”

“Salty?” Mason asked.

“Salty and peppery! You know, in answering an ad like that you can’t be sure what’s in the wind. I was hoping I’d land it if only to be able to spring Adelle Winters on that Mr. Hines!”

Mason glanced at Della Street, then tentatively shut off the ignition on his car. “Tell me about Adelle Winters.”

“Well, she’s been a practical nurse. She’s redheaded and chunky, and she wants to live her own life. She can’t be bothered too much by rules and regulations, and for that very reason is probably one of the greatest liars in the world. Whenever people start questioning her about things she thinks are none of their business, or try to make her conform to some convention or law that she doesn’t approve of, she proceeds to lie her way out with a great deal of ability and a perfectly clear conscience. She’s a darned good liar.”

“How old?” Mason asked.

“Oh, somewhere between fifty and sixty-five. You’d never know, and she won’t tell. — Do come on up!”

“We will at that,” Mason said. “Long enough for a cocktail and to meet Mrs. Winters. — You don’t think Mr. Hines would have slipped anything over on her, eh?”

“Mr. Hines definitely would not have slipped anything over on Aunt Adelle. — The apartment’s on the third floor, and the elevator is automatic.”

“You girls both looking for work?” Mason asked on the way up.

“That kind of work, yes. We’re actresses — at least we think we are, or we thought we were before we came here. We’ve had a few jobs as extras in Hollywood and we’ve done some work as models. We’re getting by okay, but we’re interested in new contacts. That’s how we happened to decide to answer that ad. It probably means a job as understudy somewhere. The way those measurements were listed in such detail, it must have been something like that.”

Cora Felton fitted a latchkey to the apartment door, then turned with a little laugh and said, “Better let me look in first to make certain everybody’s decent.”

She held the door open and called out, “Company coming. Everybody dressed?”

There was no answer.

“Well, that’s strange,” she said. “Come on in. I guess there’s no one home. Oh-oh, what’s this?”

A note pinned to the table had caught her attention. She opened and read it, then passed it to Mason without a word.

Mason handed back the note.

“What do you make of it?” Cora asked.

“The note?”

“No, the job.”

“Are you sure Adelle Winters is thoroughly capable of taking care of herself?”

“Taking care of herself and of Eva too,” Cora said. “Anyhow, don’t worry about Eva. She isn’t going to be caught very far off first base. — What will you have? Manhattan or martini?”

“A manhattan,” Mason said.

“Same here,” Della Street said.

Cora Felton opened the icebox, took out a bottle of prepared cocktails, and poured three drinks.

“Well,” Mason said, picking up his glass, “here’s to crime!”

“You would!” Cora said.