The Case of the Fabulous Fake

6

The lawyer took the elevator to the lobby, went to a baggage store two doors down the street, selected a suitcase, paid for it; then he crossed to a secondhand bookstore.

“I’m looking for some books dealing with the history of early California and, particularly, with the discovery of gold,” he said.

The clerk led him to a shelf.

“Do you,” Mason asked, “have paperback books?”

“Oh, yes, we have quite a selection.”

“I also want to get some of those books for lighter reading,” Mason said. “I’ll pick out some.”

Ten minutes later Mason presented himself at the checking-out desk with an armful of books.

The cashier scanned the penciled prices marked on the title pages, gave Mason the total figure, $27.85.

“All right,” Mason said, “I’ll... why not put them in this suitcase?”

The clerk, his attention drawn to the suitcase, leaned forward to pick it up and make sure it was empty, then smiled and said, “That’s quite all right. Put them in there if you want.”

Mason put the books in the suitcase, paid the bill, walked back to the Hotel Willatson, said, “I’m going to be here probably overnight. I’d like to have a room somewhere above the fifth floor. I don’t like traffic noises.”

“I can let you have eleven-eighty-four,” the room clerk said, “if you’re only going to be here one night, Mister... uh...”

“Mason,” Perry Mason said. “I prefer to be a little lower than the eleventh floor. What have you got on the eighth?”

“We’re all taken up.”

“The seventh?”

“I have one room on the seventh floor — seven-eighty-nine. It’s a slightly larger room than our average and a little more expensive...”

“That’s all right,” Mason said, “I’ll take it. I’m likely to be here only one night.”

The lawyer registered, gave a bellboy a dollar to take his bag and escort him up to the room, waited until the bellboy had withdrawn; then put the room key in his pocket and walked down the hall to 767.

He tapped gently on the panels.

Diana Douglas opened the door.

“Mr. Mason,” she said, “I’ve been thinking over what you said. It’s — I’m afraid I’m in a terrible position.”

“It’ll be all right,” Mason told her, “I’ll take charge.”

“You’re going to — to need more than the money I gave you.”

“Unfortunately,” Mason said, “I spent a large amount of the money you gave me trying to check up on you and get back of the falsehoods you had told me. As it is now...”

The lawyer broke off as a knuckle tapped gently on the door.

Diana Douglas raised inquiring eyebrows.

Mason strode across the room, opened the door to confront an alert-looking young woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and that something in her bearing which radiated competency and ability to look after herself under any circumstances.

The woman smiled at him and said, “I recognize you, Mr. Mason, but you probably don’t know me. I’m from — well, I’m Stella Grimes.”

“Come in, Stella,” Mason said.

The lawyer closed the door and said, “Stella, this is Diana Douglas. She’s registered here as Diana Deering. You’re going to take over.”

“Who am I?” Stella asked. “Diana Douglas or Diana Deering?... And how do you do, Diana. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“As far as the hotel is concerned you’re Diana Deering,” Mason said. “I’ll let you read an ad which appeared in the paper.”

Mason handed her a copy of the ad which Diana had inserted in the paper and which was signed “36-24-36.”

“I see, Mr. Mason,” Stella said, reading the ad carefully. Then she looked at Diana, looked at Perry Mason, and said, “Precisely what do I do?”

“You identify yourself here as Diana Deering,” Mason said. “You sit tight and await developments and you report.”

“Report on what?”

“On everything.”

“Can you give me any line on what is supposed to happen?” she asked. “I take it that I’m supposed to be here to make a cash payment. Suppose someone turns up and wants the cash?”

“Then you stall,” Mason said.

She nodded, took a card from her purse, scribbled something on it, and said, “You’ll probably want one of my cards, Mr. Mason.”

The lawyer took the card she had given him. On the back was scribbled, “I’ve seen her before. I was the operative in the taxicab with Paul Drake last night.”

Mason slipped the card in his pocket. “Exactly,” he said, “I’ll call you by name if I have to, but in the meantime I want you to impress upon the clerk that if someone calls and asks for you by the code numbers of thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six that the call is to be put through. You think you can make up a good story?”

“I can try,” she said.

“What do you have in the way of baggage?” Mason asked.

“Just this purse that I brought in with me. I was instructed not to attract attention by coming in with any more than this.”

“You can buy what you need at the department stores and have it sent in,” Mason said.

“Any idea how long I’ll be here?”

“It may be only a day. It may be three or four days. Just sit down and make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll take your suitcase down to Room Seven-eighty-nine, Diana,” he said. “Later on I’ll check out with it and give it to you in San Francisco. In the meantime, you take this key, go on down to seven-eighty-nine, and wait. Take that black bag and your purse with you. I’ll be seeing you in seven-eighty-nine in a few minutes. You use that room until you’re ready to get the cashier’s check and leave for the airport. Don’t come back to this room under any circumstances and don’t try to leave Room Seven-eighty-nine until I give you the all-clear sign.”

“Any idea when that will be?” she asked.

“When I think the coast is clear.”

“Suppose the banks close before you say it’s okay for me to leave?”

“Then you’ll have to keep the money with you until you get to San Francisco. Get the cashier’s check there, but don’t enter the office tomorrow until you have that check. When the office opens tomorrow I’ll be on hand to help. We’ll fix up the details before we leave Room Seven-eighty-nine. In the meantime, I want you out of here.”

She nodded, said, “I want to get a couple of things from the bathroom.”

Stella Grimes said to Mason, “You’d better brief me a little more. What happens if someone calls on me by this number, wants me to meet him with a sum of cash?”

“Stall it along and notify Paul,” Mason told her.

“And if there isn’t time for that?”

“Make time.”

“Am I to have any idea what it’s all about?” she asked.

“Nothing that I can tell you,” Mason said.

“Am I the party that’s being blackmailed?”

“No,” Mason said, “you’re a girl friend, an angel who’s going to put up the money, but before you put up the money you want to be absolutely certain that you’re getting what you’re paying for. You’re a fairly wealthy young woman, but you’re rough, you’re tough, you’re hard-boiled. You know your way around... Got a gun?”

By way of answer she reached down the V of her blouse and suddenly produced a wicked-looking, snubnosed revolver.

“I’m wearing my working bra,” she said as Diana emerged from the bathroom, her hands filled with toilet articles.

“Good enough,” Mason told her. “I hope you don’t have to reach for it, but I’m glad you’ve got it. We don’t know with whom we’re dealing.”

“Have there been — other payments?” she asked.

“That we don’t know,” Mason said. “The present demand is for five grand. The probabilities are there’s been one earlier payment and this is — you know, the old story, the guy hates to be a blackmailer. He wants to begin life all over again. He had intended to collect a thousand or so every few months, but he just can’t live with himself on that kind of a deal. If he can get five grand he’s going to buy a little farm way out in the sticks and forget all about his past and turn over a new leaf.

“In that case he’ll tell the sucker he’ll be done with payments forevermore, and all that sort of talk... You know the line.”

“I know the line,” she said, smiling, “I’ve heard it.”

Mason took Diana’s suitcase and said, “We’re taking this down to seven-eighty-nine, Diana. You take that black bag. Be sure to follow instructions.”

“And I’ll see you in San Francisco?”

“That’s right. I’ll get in touch with you. Put your phone number and address here in my notebook. But stay in seven-eighty-nine until I give you an all-clear.”

The lawyer handed her his open notebook. Diana took it and carefully made the notations Mason asked, picked up the black bag, gave Stella her hand, said, “Thanks, sister. Be careful, and keep wearing that bra.”

She turned to Perry Mason and said, “You’re all right. You’re good... Let me carry my suitcase. I’ll wait. I have the key to seven-eighty-nine.” Impulsively she kissed him on the cheek, picked up the suitcase, the black bag and purse, crossed swiftly to the door, opened it, and was gone.

Mason settled himself in a chair, motioned for Stella to be seated, said, “I’m playing this pretty much in the dark myself, Stella. The blackmailer will be expecting the payoff will be made by a man. You’ll have to act the part of the financial angel, probably related to the sucker. However, you’re skeptical, hard-boiled, and—”

The lawyer broke off as knuckles tapped on the door.

“This may be it,” he said. “Gosh, I hope Diana got down to seven-eighty-nine and out of sight.”

The lawyer went to the door, opened it, and said, “Yes, what is it?”

The man who stood on the threshold was a small man in his early thirties. He had black hair which was very sleek and glossy, parted in the middle and curled back from his forehead at the temples. He was wearing dark glasses and well-pressed brown slacks with a darker brown sport coat. His shirt was tan, and an expensive bolo tie furnished ornamentation.

“How do you do?” he said. “I called in response to an ad in the paper. I...” He broke off as he caught sight of Stella Grimes.

“That’s all right,” Mason said. “Come in.”

The man hesitated, then extended a well-manicured hand, the nails highly polished, the skin soft and elaborately care for.

“Cassel,” he said, smiling, “C-A-S-S-E-L. I had hardly expected you would come down in person, Mr.—”

Mason held up his left hand as he shook Cassel’s right hand.

“No names, please.”

“All right, no names,” Cassel said.

He regarded Stella Grimes appraisingly, as a cattle buyer might size up a prime heifer. There was a puzzled frown on his forehead which speedily gave way to an oily smile.

“We’ll dispense with introductions,” Mason said abruptly.

Cassel said, “As you wish. However, we don’t put on our best performances in front of an audience, you know.” He made a deprecatory gesture. “I confess I get stage fright,” he said. “I may not be able to recall my lines at all.”

Stella said, “Perhaps you two would like to have me go in the bathroom and close the door.”

“No, no, no,” Cassel said. “Nowhere in the room, please. I am very self-conscious.”

Mason laughed. “Mr. Cassel and I have some very private business to discuss, Stella. I’m sorry that you and I didn’t have more of an opportunity to talk, but it follows that we’ll get together sometime later. I dislike these interruptions as much as you do, but that’s the way things go... Mr. Cassel and I are going to have a business talk, and following that I’ll be in and out for a while, but I’ll give you a ring whenever I’m at liberty. However, don’t wait for my call. Just follow your own inclinations.”

Stella Grimes regarded Mason thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, “I think I’ve got it,” to Mason, and, turning to Cassel said, “Good-by, Mr. Cassel.”

She walked casually over to Perry Mason, put her lips up to be kissed as in a pleasant but often-repeated salutation of affection, then left the room.

“Nice babe,” Cassel said, eying Mason.

Mason shrugged. “I like her.”

“Known her long?”

Mason smiled. “Not long enough.”

“You’re not handing me that line,” Cassel said.

“I’m handing you nothing.”

“You can say that again.”

There was a brief period of silence.

“Okay,” Cassel said, “let’s quit stalling around and get down to business. You brought it with you?”

“Brought what?” Mason asked.

“Now, let’s not be cagey about this,” Cassel said irritably. “I don’t think that you’d be guilty of a breach of faith by trying to blow the whistle but... to hell with this stuff, let’s take a look.”

Cassel strode to the bathroom, jerked the door open, looked around inside, surveyed the walls of the room, moved a couple of pictures looking for a concealed microphone.

“Don’t be simple,” Mason said when he had finished.

Cassel’s eyes were suspicious. “I don’t like the way you’re going about this,” he said.

“What’s wrong with the way I’m going about it?”

“You want me to make statements,” Cassel said. “I’m not making statements. I’m here. You’re here. It’s your move.”

Mason said, “I’m the one that should be suspicious. What made you so long showing up?”

“I had other matters which took me out of town for a while,” Cassel said. “I called as soon as I came back and got free... By the way, there was an ad in one of the evening papers. Do you know anything about that?”

Mason said, “I know enough about it to know that I wasted a lot of time giving the occupants of a taxicab an opportunity to give me the double take.”

“And you received no signal?”

“No.”

Cassel shook his head. “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all. It means some third party is trying to chisel in on the deal.”

“You don’t like it,” Mason said. “How do you suppose I feel about it? What the hell are you trying to do?”

Cassel thought for a moment, glanced at Mason, looked away, looked back at Mason again, frowned, said, “There’s something familiar about your face. Have I ever met you before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, every once in a while you— Wait a minute, wait a minute... I’ve seen your picture somewhere!”

“That’s not at all impossible,” Mason conceded.

“Hell’s bells,” Cassel said, “I’ve got it. Why dammit, you’re a lawyer. Your name is Mason.”

Mason didn’t let his face change expression by so much as the flicker of an eyelash.

“That’s right,” he said, “Perry Mason.”

“What are you trying to pull?” Cassel asked. “That wasn’t part of the deal. I don’t want to have any business dealings with any damn lawyer.”

Mason smiled affably. “I’m not any damn lawyer,” he said. “I’m a particularly special, high-priced lawyer.”

“I’ll say you are,” Cassel said, edging toward the door. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Mason? Are you crazy? You act as though you’ve got the room bugged. You know as well as I do that if you’re trying to blow any whistles you’re cutting your client’s throat. You’re acting just as if this was some kind of a shakedown.”

Mason said nothing.

“You know the proposition.” Cassel said. “It’s a business proposition. Your client doesn’t have any choice in the matter but, under the circumstances, he can’t have any protection. Any agreement that’s made isn’t worth the powder and shot to blow it up.”

Mason said, “That doesn’t prevent me from representing my client.”

Cassel sneered. “It means that we’ve had our sights too low,” he said. “If your client has got money enough to pay a high-priced lawyer a fat fee in a deal of this kind we’ve been too naïve. I don’t blame you, I blame us. We aren’t asking enough.”

“Keep talking,” Mason said. “I’m listening.”

Cassel, annoyed now, said, “This isn’t a payoff. This is something your client owes... I’m not going to argue with you, Mason, have you got it or haven’t you?”

“If you’re referring to the money,” Mason said, “I don’t have it, and if I did have it I wouldn’t pay it over on the strength of any proposition you’ve made so far.”

“What’s wrong with my proposition?” Cassel asked.

“You said it yourself. Any agreement is worthless. You could come back tomorrow and begin all over again.”

“I wouldn’t be foolish enough to do that,” Cassel said.

“Why not?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be... ethical.”

Mason laughed.

Cassel’s face darkened. “Look, Mason, you’re supposed to be high-powered. You’re supposed to be the last word. But all you’re doing so far is making it tough for your client. He had a chance to get off the hook at a bargain price. Now, things are going up.”

“Don’t say that,” Mason said, “or prices may go down.”

“You think you can pull a rabbit out of a hat?” Cassel asked sneeringly.

Mason said, “That’s what I’m noted for, pulling rabbits out of hats and coming up with another ace when it’s least expected.”

Cassel started angrily for the door, turned, said, “Look, Mason, let’s be businesslike. Your client pays five grand and that’s all there is to it.”

“And what does he get in return for the five grand?”

“Immunity.”

“What about the proofs?”

Cassel’s face showed surprise. “What are you talking about, the proofs?”

Mason recovered easily. “The proofs of your integrity, of the fact that my client has immunity.”

“Draw up an agreement,” Cassel said.

“You said yourself it wouldn’t be worth anything.”

“Not in court,” Cassel said, “and not if the right party brings the action. But it closes a lot of doors — all the doors your client needs to worry about.”

“I’ll think it over,” Mason conceded.

“Think it over, hell! You haven’t got a lot of time to think things over. This is a hot deal. If you’re going to go for it, you’ve got to move and move fast.”

“Where can I reach you?” Mason asked.

Cassel surveyed him thoughtfully. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“All right,” Mason said, “where can I leave the money — if I decide to leave the money?”

Cassel said, “Look, your phone number is listed. You have an office. I don’t know what you’re doing here in the hotel. I’ll give you a call from a pay station at your office.”

“When?”

“When I get damned good and ready,” Cassel said. He opened the door and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Mason went to the telephone, put a call through the switchboard to Paul Drake’s office.

“Perry Mason talking, Paul. Did Stella Grimes phone in for an operative to do a tailing job?”

“Haven’t heard from her,” Drake said. “The last I knew she was in the Willatson Hotel. Weren’t you with her?”

“I was,” Mason said. “I had a man I wanted followed. I tried to give her a signal.”

“If you gave her a signal, she got it all right,” Drake said. “She’s a bright babe. Was there any reason why she couldn’t do the tailing job herself?”

“The only trouble is, the subject knows her,” Mason said. “A stranger would have been better.”

“Well, she probably didn’t have time to phone in. What was it, a rush job?”

“It was one hell of a rush job.”

“You’ll be hearing from her,” Drake predicted.

Mason hung up the phone, walked casually around the room, again picked up the telephone, said to the hotel operator, “Ring Room Seven-eighty-nine, please.”

It was some time before Diana Douglas answered the phone.

“Yes?” she asked.

Mason said, “It took you a while to answer, Diana.”

“I didn’t know whether I should answer or not. How’s everything down your way? I thought you were coming to—”

“We were interrupted,” Mason said. “The other party to the transaction showed up.”

“You mean... you mean the blackmailer?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“We stalled around for a while,” Mason said, “and, unfortunately, he made me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He knew who I was. He recognized me from the photographs he had seen in the papers from time to time.”

“Is that bad?” she asked.

“It may be good,” Mason said. “I think he was just a little frightened... I just wanted to tell you to sit tight until you hear from me. It’s very important that you keep under cover.”

“I should be — well, shouldn’t I be getting my ticket back to San Francisco? And the banks will be closed here.”

“We can’t hurry this now,” Mason said. “There may be developments. Wait a few minutes — or up to an hour — until I have a chance to join you. Don’t try to leave that room until I give you a signal that everything’s in the clear.”