The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom

Six

Edward C. Garvin stood on the porch of the La Jolla hotel, looking out over the path that the moonlight made in the waters of the Pacific Ocean.

The second Mrs. Garvin stood beside him.

“Lorrie, darling,” Garvin said enthusiastically, “this is something like.”

“Yes, dear.”

“We’re embarking on a perpetual honeymoon. Do you love me, darling?”

“Of course.”

“Sweetheart, look at me. You keep looking out at the ocean.”

She turned to him with a complacent, indulgent smile.

“Say something,” Garvin said.

“What?”

“You know what. Say ‘I love you.’ ”

“Oh, Edward,” she said impatiently, “you’re becoming sophomoric.”

“Darling, don’t you feel the romance? Don’t you feel the charm of our surroundings? Here we are away from business. No one knows where we are. We’re all alone, out here, standing on the brink...”

“And I’m hungry,” she broke in.

He laughed. “All right, I’ll feed you. Only I don’t feel that I want to share you with anyone tonight. Let’s have something served in our room.”

“Oh, it’s terrible down here. They don’t have the facilities for room service that they have in the bigger hotels, Ed. Let’s go out and get a good hot steak with some shoestring potatoes and French fried onions. There’s a very nice restaurant back at the center of town. I noticed it when we came through, and I’ve eaten there before.”

“Very well,” Garvin surrendered, “if you want it that way. I had hoped we could have dinner on our private balcony, looking out over the water.”

“With the moisture creeping in and getting the wave out of my hair?” she demanded. “There’s almost a fog.” Her laughter was light and all but impatient. “Come, come, Ed, you’re getting altogether too romantic. Let’s have a cocktail and a steak. Shall we go now? You won’t need a hat, dear.”

“Just as you say, Lorrie. How about your hair? Shall we put the top of the car up?”

“No, we’ll leave it down,” she said. “I like it better that way. I’ll tie a scarf around my hair.”

They descended the stairs to the lobby, crossed the lobby to the parking lot where Garvin had left his big convertible. He walked around the car, held the door open for his wife, then walked all the way around the long hood to the door by the driver’s seat.

“I’m famished,” Lorraine said. “Please hurry.”

“Yes, dear, we’ll be on our way. You’re sure you don’t want the top up?”

“No, this is all right.”

Garvin started the car. The motor purred a smooth rhythm of easy power. He backed the car out of the parking place, spun it around, made a perfunctory stop at the edge of the highway, waited for a break in traffic, then slipped the clutch back in and the car shot ahead like an arrow, swept into a turn and gathered speed as it headed down the highway.

They drove to the café. Garvin parked the car, got out and hurried around behind the car, to open the door on his wife’s side.

He gave her his hand. She put her own hand lightly in it, jumped to the ground with a swirl of skirts.

Tires sounded a screaming protest as a motorist braked his big, heavy car to a sudden stop.

They turned around, and Lorraine Garvin regarded with awakening interest the tall man who slid out from behind the steering wheel of the convertible machine with its top up and strode across toward them.

“Good heavens!” Garvin exclaimed. “It’s Perry Mason!”

“The lawyer?” his wife asked.

“That’s right.”

Mason came toward them. “I’ve had the devil of a time finding you, Garvin. A twenty-four-hour search.”

Garvin drew up with dignity. “Darling,” he said, “may I present Mr. Mason. Mr. Mason, my wife.”

Mason bowed, said to her, “I’m very pleased to meet you,” and to Garvin, “I must see you alone and at once.”

“The reason you had the devil of a time finding me,” Garvin said somewhat coldly, “is that I didn’t want to be found.”

“So I gathered,” Mason said. “However, you picked a bad time for it. Now give me five minutes, please.”

“I’m not interested in business at the moment, but anything you have to say can be said now and here.”

“When’s your stockholders’ meeting, Garvin?”

“Tomorrow at two o’clock in the afternoon. I shall be there, Mason, make no mistake.”

“You have enough proxies to control that meeting?”

“Of course I have. Come, come, Mason, this is no time to be talking business. Furthermore, your car is blocking traffic and...”

Mason said, “Your wife has sent out a flock of proxies in her own name. Remember that her initials are also E. C.”

“His former wife,” Lorraine said coldly.

“There seems to be some question about that, too,” Mason said. “Get back in your car. You’re going to Mexico.”

“I’m going to have a dry Martini and a steak,” Lorraine said.

“We’re dining tête-à-tête,” Garvin explained.

“Oh come, darling, let Mr. Mason join us, and he can talk while we eat.”

Garvin shook his head. “I’m in no mood to discuss business tonight.”

Mason said, “Ethel has sent out proxies made out in the name of E. C. Garvin, holder of Certificate of Stock Number 123. She may have enough proxies to give her complete control of the meeting.”

“But she can’t. I have my proxies.”

“That were superseded by her later ones,” Mason said. “She took good care to see that hers went out after yours had been returned. The proxies contain a clause that all prior proxies are revoked.”

“Good Lord!” Garvin said. “She’ll ruin me!”

“Well, she’s not going to ruin my dinner,” Lorraine snapped.

“Furthermore,” Mason went on, “in order to make certain that you won’t be at that stockholders’ meeting tomorrow, she has gone to the district attorney’s office and sworn to a complaint charging you with bigamy. They’re trying to arrest you right now. Apparently she...”

“Mason, Mason, for God’s sake!” Garvin interrupted. “Don’t discuss that matter now!”

“Then give me a chance to discuss it in private,” Mason snapped. “I’ve been scouring the state for you for the last twenty-four hours. I wasn’t doing that just for fun, you know.”

Lorraine bristled. “What’s that about bigamy, Mr. Mason?”

Mason said, “You may as well face the facts. Garvin, you can run away from business, but there are other things you can’t run away from. This is an issue you’re going to have to face and face fast.”

“Edward,” Lorraine said coldly, “do you mean there’s any question about the validity of our marriage?”

Garvin looked uncomfortably at Mason.

Mason said, “I’ll give the facts to you straight from the shoulder. There’s all sorts of doubt about the validity of your marriage. In all probability, Ethel Carter Garvin is the only one who has any real claim to being Garvin’s wife.”

“Edward,” Lorraine said, “you told me that she had divorced you.”

“I thought she had.”

“Thought!” Lorraine exclaimed. “Why, of all the...”

“Just a minute,” Mason said. “Raising your voice isn’t going to help matters any, and this is no place for recriminations. I’m going to move my car. I suggest that you follow me. I may be able to help you.”

“How?” Garvin asked.

Mason said, “Let’s go to your hotel. You can get a bite to eat there if you have to have it before you start for Mexico. Get your bags packed, throw them in the car and get started for the border.”

“Why the border?” Garvin asked.

Mason said, “You were divorced in Mexico.”

“Well?” Garvin inquired.

Mason grinned. “Your Mexican divorce may not be recognized in California. Your Mexican marriage would be valid only in the event that the divorce was valid. But in Mexico, since you have a Mexican divorce and a legal marriage thereafter, you’re husband and wife.”

There was a moment of silence, then Lorraine Garvin said, “Well, don’t stand there like a dumbbell, Edward. Can’t you realize what Mr. Mason is saying? Get that car backed out of the parking place. Let’s get to the hotel, get our bags and get the hell out of here!”