The Case of the Borrowed Brunette

Chapter 19

Mason, pacing back and forth across the floor of his office, said to Paul Drake, “The thing that bothers me in this case, Paul, is Mae Bagley.”

“What about her?”

“She tried to protect me. They came down on her like a ton of bricks without giving her any warning. As soon as that taxi driver told where he had picked Eva Martell up, the cops dashed down and grabbed Mae Bagley.”

“And she told them she’d never seen Eva Martell before?”

“That’s right.”

“Was she under oath?” Drake asked.

“Not then she wasn’t. Shortly afterward they dragged her up before the Grand Jury, and she was under oath then, of course. They’ll probably examine her again tonight.”

“Shucks, Perry, no matter how crude her first story was, have her stick to it. Of course she can simply refuse to answer on the ground that doing so might incriminate her.”

“It isn’t that simple,” Mason said. “Gulling is the type of technical-minded chap with a very exalted opinion of himself and an exaggerated idea of his own importance. He’s shrewd enough to know all the technical angles, and he’s getting ready to throw the book at everyone.”

“Well, they’ve evidently got the deadwood on you now, Perry. They know that you took Eva Martell to that rooming house. Can’t you show that Gulling gave you until noon to produce her; that you told her to surrender herself to the police well within the time limit given you by Gulling — and let it be your word and hers against what is merely Gulling’s insinuation that she wasn’t on the way to surrender herself when she was arrested? It seems to me you could beat the case that way, hands down.”

“That isn’t the point,” Mason said. “Mae Bagley tried to protect me. She said that she hadn’t had Eva Martell in her house. Now then, the minute she changes her story they get her on two counts. First, for failing to keep an accurate register of the people in her rooming house, and second, because of her previous false statement. They also make her an accessory after the fact in hiding a person accused of murder. And if I try to protect myself by telling what did happen, I’ve put Mae Bagley in a spot. The minute I open up, I’ve hooked that Bagley woman on all sorts of charges.”

“Oh, oh!” Drake said.

“And when I get in front of that Grand Jury, I’ve got to try to talk my way out or else take a beating.”

“Can’t you claim professional privilege?”

“Only as to what my client may have said to me. And there’s that twelve o’clock surrender deadline... ”

“Can’t you show that that’s just an absurd technicality?”

Mason grinned. “I’ve been throwing technicalities at the district attorney’s office for a long time now, and I’d put myself in a pretty poor light if I started yelling that I was being crucified on a technicality!”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Drake admitted. “What’s the idea of planting the purse so Gulling would find it, Perry?”

Mason grinned. “I’m letting Gulling interpret the law, Paul.”

“What law?”

“The portion of the law which defines what is a reasonable time. I may not have to use it, but knowing him as I do, I realize he’ll try to hook me on some trivial offense in case I should wriggle off the hook on this other charge... However, he’s got all of us pretty well hooked on that other stuff, what with all the evidence he’s turned up.

“Of course,” Mason went on, “the situation would be simplified if it weren’t for that wallet. Because the gun testimony is considerably mixed up by this time.”

“Didn’t Adelle Winters throw the gun into that garbage can?”

“I’m beginning to think she didn’t.”

“Then what’s the explanation?”

“She is lying about the gun. She didn’t have it, and it never was up there on the sideboard, and she didn’t take it with her. But she knew someone who did have it, and that person had agreed to plant the gun in the garbage can. According to my idea right now, Adelle Winters merely looked inside to see whether it was there.”

“That sounds rather complicated, Perry.”

Mason suddenly turned to Della Street. “Get the Lorenzo Hotel for me, Della. I want to talk with somebody who knows about the records that have been kept there.”

“What are you getting at, Perry?” Drake asked as Della Street put through the call. “Do you think that Adelle Winters had some accomplice at the hotel?”

“One thing in the case has never been explained,” said Mason. “It’s simple, obvious, and significant — and therefore everyone has completely overlooked it.”

“What’s that?”

“How did it happen that Adelle Winters and Eva Martell went to the Lorenzo Hotel in the first place?” Mason asked.

“Well, they wanted to go to some public place. They didn’t want to go home, and... ”

“There are lots of hotels,” Mason said. “Why pick the Lorenzo in particular?”

“Well, they had to pick one of them.”

“But what made them hit on that one? I—”

“They’re on the line,” Della Street told him.

Mason picked up the telephone and said, “This is Perry Mason, the lawyer. I want to find out something about a former guest of the hotel.”

“Yes, Mr. Mason, we’ll be glad to give you any assistance we can.”

“I want you please to look back through your records and let me know whether an Adelle Winters ever had a room there.”

“I can tell you right now, Mr. Mason. I saw her name in the papers, and of course there’s the fact that the police found a weapon here. Perhaps you didn’t know it, but at one time she worked as a waitress in the dining room here. It’s called the Lorenzo Café. It’s operated under separate management, though in connection with the hotel.”

“How long ago?” Mason asked.

“A little over a year ago.”

“How long was she there?”

“Three months.”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“Yes, sir, the district attorney’s office knows it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because they asked me and I told them.”

“When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “Have they subpoenaed you as a witness?”

“Not me, but the proprietor of the café. Would you like to talk with him?”

“Definitely not,” Mason said. “Thanks for the information. Good-by.”

As he hung up he met Paul Drake’s dismayed eyes.

“Well, there you are,” Mason said. “That’s that! I know now why the two women went to the Lorenzo Hotel, and also how Mrs. Winters knew where the garbage pails were kept. She worked there for three months about a year ago!”

“She did?” Drake exclaimed. “I see. But what about the gun?”

“According to Folsom, she raised the cover and looked inside. Now then, the gun was found under quite a layer of garbage. Suppose she is lying all along the line? Suppose, as I suggested a few minutes ago, she didn’t leave the gun behind on the apartment sideboard? Suppose someone else had the gun? Suppose this person phoned her and said that he or she had killed Hines and tossed the gun into that garbage can? Now, who could have killed Hines and then been able to count on the cooperation of Adelle Winters?”

“Eva Martell,” Drake replied promptly.

Mason paused to give that consideration. “You may have something there, Paul. But I’d be more inclined to say it was— Just when was the noontime garbage put in there, Paul?”

“We’ve checked up on that for you. It was at two-ten that the kitchen man came out with a big tubful of garbage, which he dumped into the middle garbage can. The police have been checking up on him — trying to get him to say he might be mistaken about the hour, that it might have been some time after two-twenty. But the man insists that it was exactly ten minutes past two; he’s sure, because he kept looking at the clock — he had a date at three and he was trying to get cleaned up and out of there and change his clothes in time to keep that date. And here’s a strange thing: he can’t swear to it, but he thinks the pail was about two-thirds full of garbage when he finished dumping in his tubful.

“Get what that means, Perry? The gun must have been in there before two-ten, and the last lot of garbage put in must have covered it up. The man was in a hurry, so he just raised the lid and dumped the stuff in. And five or ten minutes later, when Adelle Winters looked inside, the gun wasn’t visible because it was covered over.”

Mason exclaimed, “Paul, if we can show that the gun was actually in the garbage pail at two-ten, we’ve got an alibi! Because Adelle Winters didn’t reach the hotel until two-fifteen. How about the time of death? What did you learn about that?”

“Autopsy surgeon says some time between one o’clock and three o’clock in the afternoon. Can’t get any closer than that.”

“Well,” Mason went on, “Eva Martell was in that apartment until five minutes of two. They went out of the apartment house at eleven minutes past. Which gives a period of sixteen minutes between their leaving the apartment itself and their departure from the building.”

By this time Drake was excited, too. “Let’s look at it now from the other angle. Who do we know of who could have walked into that apartment naturally — gone in quietly without rousing comment? In the first place, Helen Reedley; she has a key to the apartment. Next, Carlotta Tipton; she could have tapped on the door and Hines would have let her in. Then, of course, there was the maid... ”

“And,” Mason said, “I’m inclined to add Arthur Clovis to that list. I imagine that he had a key to the apartment, and that that’s one of the things that get him all churned up whenever the subject is mentioned. I don’t suppose there’s any way of finding out for sure, is there, Paul?”

“Not unless we could think up some way of frisking him, and that would be dangerous. Anyhow, if he ever had a key he’s probably ditched it by now,” Paul Drake added.

“Well,” Mason went on, “how about Helen Reedley? We don’t know where she was, around the time the murder was committed. She says she was looking for Hines in the restaurant, that she missed him there and tried telephoning. Suppose she talked with Carlotta, and suppose Carlotta told her that Hines was up in the other apartment?... No, Carlotta’s not likely to have done that... But when you come right down to it, Paul, there are a lot of people who can’t account for their time between say one-forty-five and two-fifteen.”

Drake nodded.

“Not that that simplifies my problem much.” Mason sounded grim. “The police are going to get after me in the matter of concealing Eva Martell after I knew she was perhaps implicated in the murder. And they’ll get after Mae Bagley for making a false statement, for failing to keep a register, and for being an accessory... Tell you what you do, Paul. Get a likely looking operative to put on some bib overalls, take a satchel, go around to various apartments in the building where Arthur Clovis lives, knock on the doors and announce loudly that he’s in the key-manufacturing business and that he’s trying to get old keys for use as blanks. Have him say he’ll pay five cents apiece for old keys.”

“But you can’t make a new key from an old one, Perry — you know that yourself!”

“That’s just the point,” Mason said. “Clovis is the dreamy type. He hasn’t very much executive ability. Put yourself in his shoes. Someone who looks like a key man comes to the door and says he’s collecting old keys. He has a satchel open that is half full of keys. He offers five cents apiece. Now suppose Clovis has a key that is burning a hole in his pocket. Here’s a chance to get rid of it. He isn’t going to stop to question the other chap’s statement. He’ll toss the key into the satchel, take his nickel, and think he’s done a good job!”

“What will the fellow have in the satchel?” Drake asked. “I can’t scare up that many keys... ”

“Get some iron washers,” Mason told him; “something the fellow can rattle around inside it.”

“Okay, Perry, I’ll try it. It may work.”

“You’ll have to get busy,” Mason said, looking at his watch. “Time is running out damn fast.”

“I can make a stab at it within an hour by using the telephone, and—”

“And that’s twice too long,” Mason interrupted. “Have a man with a satchel up there inside of thirty minutes.”

Drake groaned. “If I’d said thirty minutes in the first place, you’d have cut it to fifteen. Let me get out of here, Della, and get to work before he thinks of something else.”

Drake had lost his drawl. His long legs moved in swift strides as he crossed the office and jerked the door open.

When he had gone, Mason looked at his watch, then glanced across at Della Street. “No need to wait, Della.”

“I’ll stay on the job,” she said. “You may get an idea.”

“Wish I could get one! Hang it, Della — there’s something in the case, some central point that’s eluding me.” He resumed his pacing of the floor.

“How about calls, Chief?” Della asked. “I hear the telephone in the other office buzzing.”

“Let’s see who it is,” Mason said. “If it’s a client, tell him I’m not in.”

Della Street went out to the switchboard and returned in a moment to say, “It’s Cora Felton. She says she has to talk with you, that it’s very important. I’ve put her on this line.”

Mason picked up the receiver on his desk telephone. “Hello, Cora. What is it?”

“Mr. Mason, I’m so sorry. I—”

“That’s all right, I was up here working on the case anyway.”

“No, no — I mean so sorry about what’s happened.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t do the right thing in getting you to represent Aunt Adelle. I did tell you that she isn’t always reliable in what she says, but I didn’t realize how far she would—”

“Come on,” Mason interrupted. “Out with it, Cora! Never mind the alibis or apologies. What is it?”

“Oh, Mr. Mason, I... I hardly know how to tell you.”

“Just tell it!”

“Well, I have just been visiting with Aunt Adelle. I had a pass to get in and see her... Well, she told me that what she had said wasn’t entirely the truth.”

“About what?”

“About the wallet.”

Mason groaned. “Do you mean to say she did get it from the man’s dead body?”

“I... I don’t know, Mr. Mason.”

“Exactly what did she tell you?”

“Well she said she got it afterwards; that most of the things happened just as she told you, but that the wallet was there after she came back to the apartment. I was talking with her about how fine you had been and how marvelously you were handling the case. Well, then she started to cry, and she said she felt like a heel!”

“Where are you now?” Mason asked.

“In a drugstore about two blocks from the City Hall.”

“Hop a taxi and get up here,” Mason said. “You’ll just have time to make it if you hurry. I must see you before I go to the Grand Jury room.”

When he had hung up he said to Della Street, “Here’s a pretty how-do-you-do! Did you listen in?”

“Yes, and I took notes in shorthand.”

“Good girl! I— Oh, Lord, there’s somebody at the door.”

Insistent knuckles were pounding on the exit door of Mason’s private office. Mason nodded to Della, who went and opened the door. It was Mae Bagley.

“Oh, Mr. Mason,” she began impetuously, “I wouldn’t do this for worlds! Only — well, I’ve been subpoenaed to appear before the Grand Jury again, and Mr. Gulling has been talking to me—”

“Sit down,” Mason told her. “What did Mr. Gulling say?”

“He said they had all the evidence they really needed to show that you had put Eva Martell in my rooming house, but they wanted to really clinch the case; that I would get complete immunity if I’d tell them the truth; that they wouldn’t bother me about my license or about being an accessory. They’d take it for granted that you had influenced me. He said that everything would be all right — there’d be no perjury charge, or anything.”

“What did you say?” Mason said.

“I looked him in the eyes and said, ‘Why, Mr. Gulling, I can’t understand how you could possibly make such a proposition. I should think you’d realize that a woman in my position couldn’t afford to lie. If I had ever seen Eva Martell before, or if Mr. Mason had brought her to my house, I’d have told you!’ ”

“Make it stick?”

“I don’t know... ”

Mason said, “Look, Mae, my advice to you is to take advantage of that offer and tell the truth.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it.”

“You mean to come right out and tell them everything that happened?”

“Yes — come right out and tell them everything that happened.” Mason repeated. “You shouldn’t have lied to protect me in the first place. You’ve got yourself in bad, and I certainly don’t want to hide behind your skirts.”

“Why — why, I had no idea of telling them! I just thought you ought to know.”

“You’re on your way up there now?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“Go tell them the whole story,” Mason said, “and say that I told you to.”

“Well... well, thanks, Mr. Mason. I... gosh, I had no idea you’d tell me anything like that.”

“That’s my advice to you,” Mason said, “and be on your way.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mason. I just want you to know how I feel... I’d do anything for you, anything on earth, even go to jail!”

“That’s fine,” Mason told her with a smile, “but you just tell them the truth and things will straighten out all right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mason. I... I’ll see you up there, I suppose.”

“Probably,” Mason said.

She walked over to the exit door, nodded to Della Street, gave Mason a warm smile, and before the automatic door check had pulled the door into place, they could hear the clack of her heels along the corridor.

Mason looked across at Della Street and shrugged. “As an attorney, it was the only advice I could give — just to tell the truth.”

Della Street nodded and got to her feet, saying, “My nose shines. You’ll be here for a few minutes yet?”

“Yes, Cora Felton is coming up.”

Della let herself out into the corridor and the door closed. Mason groaned, looked at his watch, and resumed his restless walking of the floor.

Della Street ran down the corridor to catch Mae Bagley at the elevator. “Mae,” she said in a quick whisper, “you understand, don’t you?”

“What?”

“That was the only advice Mr. Mason could give you. If he had told you not to say anything, or to tell a falsehood, it would have been a conspiracy to commit perjury if — well, if it should ever come out.”

“Listen, sister, you don’t need to worry about me,” Mae assured her. “You tell Mr. Mason to just go ahead with what he has to do and quit worrying about anything I may say. Anything Gulling gets out of me he can put in his eye!”

The two women looked at each other for a moment, and suddenly Mae Bagley’s arms were around Della. “You poor kid!” she said. “You’re shivering. Is it that bad?”

“Gosh,” Della admitted, “I don’t know, but I am worried.”

“It’ll be okay! Skip on in and give him a pat on the back. Tell him what I’ve just told you.”

Della Street shook her head. “I can’t tell him in so many words,” she said. “It’s one of those things nobody can ever talk about. We just— Well, at a time like this, we just have to take each other on faith.”

The elevator cage lighted up the shaft and then came to a stop. As the door slid open Mae Bagley walked in, turned, and waved at Della encouragingly.

Della was walking slowly back to the office when the second cage came to a stop. The door slid open and Cora Felton hurried out.

“Oh, hello!” Della Street said. “The boss is waiting in here. We only have a minute.” And she took Cora back through the door to Mason’s private office.

Mason, still pacing the floor, looked up as they entered.

“Hello, Cora,” he said. “Sit down. Tell me what it is.”

“Mr. Mason, I just don’t know. I’ve completely lost confidence in Aunt Adelle. I can’t understand why she would do a thing like that.”

“What does she say now?”

“Well, she says she picked up the wallet and then wondered why Mr. Hines had left it there. Then she walked into the other room and found the body, and her first thought was that now perhaps nobody would know the wallet was missing and she could keep what was in it. She didn’t know how much that was, but she could see that the wallet was pretty well filled with money. When she had a chance to look at it — while Eva was telephoning you and then the police — she saw the big bills and made up her mind she just wouldn’t give it up. She’s always had to fight her way through the world, and the world hasn’t given her a square deal. People have done all sorts of mean things to her, and—”

“Never mind the justification,” Mason said. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“Well, when the police nabbed her and asked her where and when she’d got this wallet, she was frightened and lied because she thought that the only thing to do was to claim she’d found it before Mr. Hines was murdered. She says that at that time she didn’t know Hines had been killed with her gun. That meant that the murder must have been committed while she was downstairs; she thought then that it had happened some time later — after she’d left the apartment.”

Mason asked, “Any particular reason why she should have told you all that?”

“Yes, there was. The police had someone in a cell with her, a cellmate thrown in on a charge of murdering her husband. The woman was sweet and sympathetic, and she and Adelle started exchanging confidences. She told Aunt Adelle all about her case, and Aunt Adelle loosened up and told her quite a bit. Well, when Aunt Adelle was being taken out of the cell to go through some formality, one of the other prisoners waited until the matron had moved off a little way, and then she whispered some underworld jargon to Aunt Adelle — about buttoning her lips because they’d thrown a ‘stoolie’ in with her. For a moment it didn’t register, and then Aunt Adelle got what it was all about, and now she’s panic-stricken.”

“She ought to be,” Mason said grimly. “What a sweet mess this is!”

Della had been watching the time, and now she said, “You’ll have to be leaving, Chief.”

Mason nodded, picked up his brief case and hat.

“Does this make much difference, Mr. Mason?” Cora asked nervously.

“Does it make much difference!” Mason’s tone was rough with sarcasm. “It only kicks her case out of the window. Once she admits falsifying that last sworn statement she made—” He broke off as the phone rang.

Della Street scooped up the receiver. “Hello. Yes — wait a minute, Paul. He’s just leaving.”

Mason quickly took the receiver from Della and said, “Hello, Paul. Anything new?”

Drake’s voice was excited. “Anything new! Listen, Perry. We’ve got it! The guy fell for it like a ton of bricks. My man had a grip full of washers, and—”

“Never mind that,” Mason cut in. “Give me the answer quick.”

“The bird rummaged around in the drawers and sold him fifteen keys, and one of them had stamped on it ‘Siglet Manor Apartments.’ ”

“You haven’t fitted it to Helen Reedley’s apartment?”

“Not yet, Perry. Have a heart — gosh, my man just got it. But we’re on our way down there now.”

“Okay,” Mason said. “That’s a load off my mind. It looks as though we were beginning to get somewhere. You can see what happened. He told Helen Reedley what Hines had said, and Helen Reedley recognized it at once as a blackmailing approach... Okay, Paul, I’ve got it now. It may be a way out. If anything turns up, call me in the anteroom of the Grand Jury — I’ll arrange things so I can take phone calls there. I’ll have Della come along to hand me messages in case I can’t go to the phone. Keep working on it. So long. I’m on my way.”

Mason hung up and nodded to Della.

As she gave him his hat and brief case she said demurely, “I happened to see Mae in the hall, Chief. She’s nice, isn’t she?”

Mason stopped and looked at his secretary with a steady scrutiny. She met his eyes, her own all wide-eyed innocence.

“I mean she’s just a good kid,” Della added.

Mason circled her with his arm and drew her to him. “So are you!”