The Case of the Daring Decoy

Chapter Ten

Conway, driving Mason back toward the Gladedell Motel so the lawyer could pick up his car, said, “That wasn’t so bad! How did I do, Perry?”

“You did all right,” Mason told him. “I think you made a good impression on the newspaper boys and that’s going to mean a lot. Fortunately, you had a chance to tell the reporters your story first. By the time the district attorney gets done questioning Gifford Farrell and he has a chance to talk with the reporters, the story of your interview will have been written up.”

“It was worth a lot watching Giff Farrell’s face when you sprung that on him about the Bikini bathing suit,” Conway said.

Mason nodded. “Of course, Jerry, the fact that a man has been buying a Bikini bathing suit for a girl doesn’t mean that he murdered her.”

“Well, he could have murdered her, all right.”

“And,” Mason went on, “you have to remember that we don’t know it was murder. She might have committed suicide. The thing I can’t understand is about that gun.”

“What about it?”

“It wasn’t the murder weapon.”

“Boy oh boy! Wasn’t it a grand and glorious feeling when that expert spoke up?” Conway said. “That let me right off the hook!”

“I’m not so certain,” Mason told him. “It’s a complication that I can’t understand and I don’t like it.”

“Why?”

Mason said, “That woman wanted you to take that gun from her. She didn’t intend to shoot you. She came out of the bedroom stripped down to the minimum in order to put you at a disadvantage. All she had to do was to start screaming, and you would have been at a terrific disadvantage. You realized that and wanted out of there the worst way. She drew that gun and then kept advancing toward you. Her hand was shaking. There’s no question about it; she wanted you to take that gun!”

Conway said, “Thinking back on it, I’m not so sure it wasn’t just plain panic on her part.”

“She walked out of a room where there was a corpse,” Mason pointed out. “She pulled a gun out of the desk and kept advancing on you, holding out the gun so that it was an invitation for you to grab it.”

Conway, feeling expansive with relief, said, “She may have been nervous. Perhaps she got blood on her clothes in shooting her roommate and wanted to change her clothes and get rid of the blood-spattered garments. She was in the process of doing that when I walked in the room. Naturally she was in a terrific panic.”

“So she pulled a gun on you?”

“That’s right.”

“And what did she want when she pulled the gun?”

“She was afraid I was going to— Well, perhaps she was afraid I was going to take her into custody.”

“She didn’t tell you to get out,” Mason said. “She told you to hold up your hands. The thing just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, we’re out of it now,” Conway said.

Mason remained silent.

Conway drove for a while in silence, then said, “Well, here’s your car.”

“Wait a minute,” Mason said, “that’s a police car parked up there in the next block. Let’s see what they’re doing. Drive by slowly, Jerry.”

Conway drove up to the next block.

“Oh-oh,” Mason said, “they’re searching the motel grounds with mine detectors.”

“What’s the idea of that?” Conway asked.

“The idea of that,” Mason told him drily, “is they think you substituted weapons and disposed of the murder gun while you were down here at the Gladedell Motel... Look over there to the left. Quick!”

One of the searchers had thrown down the mine detector and was calling excitedly to the others.

A group of people from two police cars converged around him. For a moment, as Conway drove by, Mason had a brief glimpse of a man holding a revolver out at arm’s length. A pencil was placed down the barrel of the gun he was holding so that any fingerprints would not be smirched.

There was only the one brief glimpse of that scene, and then Conway’s car had slid on by. Conway put a foot on the brakes.

“Keep going! Keep going,” Mason said.

“That man had a gun,” Conway exclaimed.

“Sure he had a gun,” Mason remarked, “and what’s more he dug up that gun from the yard in back of the motel where you admitted staying last night. Now then, Conway, suppose you tell me the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

Mason said, “You got smart. You buried the gun they gave you. Then you went to your office and got this other gun. You substituted guns so you wouldn’t have the fatal weapon in your possession.”

“I did no such thing!” Conway retorted angrily, slowing down.

“Keep driving!” Mason told him. “Stop now and we’re sunk.”

Conway said, “I am not a fool, Mason. I put myself in your charge. I asked for your advice. I took it and—”

“All right! All right!” Mason said. “Shut up. Let me think for a minute!”

“Where do you want to go?” Conway asked.

“Drive around the block,” Mason said. “Take me back to my car, and—”

A siren sounded behind them.

“All right,” Mason said. “Pull over to the curb, and get a story ready. They’ve evidently recognized us.”

However, the siren was merely being used to clear the traffic. The police car coming from behind rocketed on past with steadily accelerating speed.

Mason said, “They’re rushing that gun to the crime laboratory for testing.”

“But how could Giff Farrell have known where I was going to be so he could plant that gun down here?” Conway asked.

Mason said, “You took elaborate precautions to see that you weren’t followed to the Redfern Hotel. But you didn’t take precautions to see that you weren’t followed from the Redfern Hotel.”

“There wasn’t anybody there to follow me,” Conway said. “I had ditched the shadows.”

“If it was a frame-up,” Mason pointed out, “they would have been waiting for you at the Redfern Hotel and have shadowed you from there to Drake’s office, then out. In that way they’d have known you spent the night at the Gladedell Motel. What a slick scheme it would be to have you take a gun which you actually thought was the murder weapon, go through all the agony of trying to decide what to do, tell your story to the district attorney, and then have it appear that you had switched guns during the night.”

Conway thought for a moment, then said bitterly, “I told you this Gifford Farrell was ingenious.”

“That,” Mason said, “makes a beautiful, beautiful frame-up.”

Conway turned the corner. “All right. What do we do?”

“We sit tight,” Mason said. “We wait for the breaks, and if they’ve pulled that sort of frame-up on you, I’m going to have to use every ounce of ability and mental agility I can command to get you out of it.”

“Well, that’s Gifford Farrell for you,” Conway said. “That’s a typical Farrell idea! I told you the guy was brilliant.”

Mason said, “Get me to my car, Conway! I’ve got work to do.”

“Then what do I do?”

“Go to your apartment,” Mason told him. “They’ll drag you in for questioning as soon as they’ve tested that gun at ballistics. If it’s the fatal weapon, you’re going to have a charge of first-degree murder placed against you.”

“Hang it!” Conway said. “I should have known Farrell wouldn’t stop with a simple frame-up. That guy always does things with what he likes to refer to as the artistic touch.”

“There’s one thing that Farrell didn’t count on,” Mason pointed out. “That’s the roll of undeveloped film in his camera and the fact that his wife has those pictures. I can see now why that knocked him for a loop.”

“And what do I do if they charge me with first-degree murder?” Conway asked.

“You put the matter in my hands,” Mason said.

Conway abruptly slid his car into the curb. “I can’t go any farther, Perry. I’m shaking like a leaf. I know now what’s happened. I know what it means. Even if they don’t convict me of murder, it will mean the end of Texas Global as far as I’m concerned. Proxies will be pouring in on Farrell like falling snowflakes.”

“Get yourself together,” Mason said. “Pull out and drive up as far as my car. I haven’t time to walk. Now, just remember one thing. If they bring you up and confront you with the murder weapon, and if they say they’re going to charge you with first-degree murder, demand that they bring the case to trial before this stockholders’ meeting. Insist that it’s a frame-up on account of the proxy fight and demand vindication.

“Okay, now, get yourself together and start driving!”