The Case of the Fan-Dancer's Horse

Chapter number 8

Mason paid off the cab in the six hundred block of East Lagmore Street and walked down to 791. It was a rooming house, the street frontage of which consisted entirely of a flight of stairs over which hung a somewhat dilapidated electric sign.

Mason ran up these stairs, found a desk, a register, a key rack with places for some two dozen keys, and a dome-shaped hand bell, back of which was a sign, ring bell for landlady. Mason thumbed through the register, found the name of Arthur Sheldon listed as being in room number five and marked paid.

The lawyer located room five and knocked.

Sheldon opened it. His face showed surprise. “You?”

Mason entered the room, pushed the door shut behind him.

It was a typical cheap room with a white iron bedstead that had been repainted at least once with cheap enamel. A thin mattress sagged in the center. The walls were stained and soiled. The lace curtains had been darned several times, enamel had been chipped off the washstand, and one of the rungs had pulled loose from the straight-backed chair by the window. A rocker, stained a nondescript dark yellow, with a concave seat of imitation leather, tried bravely to give the room an appearance of livability.

Sheldon sat down on the edge of the thin mattress, which promptly sagged down so that the iron side of the bedstead caught him on the underside of the knees. He motioned to Mason to sit in the rocking chair, but the lawyer declined the invitation with a shake of his head and remained standing.

“I want to know what happened last night.”

Sheldon’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Mason said. “Let’s quit beating around the bush.”

“I’ve told you everything I know, Mr. Mason. I told you...”

“Who was the woman in the room with you last night?”

“Why... what...”

“Come on,” Mason said, “who was it? Was it Lois Fenton?”

“What makes you think there was any woman...”

Mason took the cleansing tissues with their rouge smears from his pocket, tossed them on the bed.

“Yes, it was Lois,” Sheldon blurted.

“Where was she?”

“In... you mean when you were there?”

“Yes.”

“Hiding in the bathroom.”

“She’d been occupying the room with you?”

“Don’t be silly. She came to see me because she needed my advice. She had just gotten there a minute before you came.”

“Try something else,” Mason said.

“Honestly, Mr. Mason, that’s the absolute truth. We were talking it over in whispers when you came. I told her that her husband had the room right across the hall, that at any time he might see her going out, or learn in some way she was there. It was an awful mess to be in. Then I heard your knock on the door and she was in a panic. She ran into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. I stalled around as much as I dared and then you put your card under the door and... Well, that’s the way it was.”

“Why did she come there?”

“Because she thought her brother was going to see Callender.”

“Was he?”

“He had an appointment.”

“Who made it?”

“Callender sent for him.”

“What time was he supposed to be there?”

“Two o’clock in the morning.”

“Why did Callender want to see him?”

“I don’t know. Probably he wanted to put the screws on him to try and get some advantage.”

“All right,” Mason said. “I’ll give you one chance to come clean. Give me the whole truth and give it to me fast.”

Sheldon said, “That’s it. Lois was scared stiff. She stayed in the bathroom and almost had hysterics. After you left, she cleaned up her face as best she could and I told her to get out. I said you’d told me to check out, and

“She went out?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“I don’t know the exact time. It was just a minute or two after you left.”

“Go directly to the lobby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And how long after she left before you went down to the lobby?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Mason. I didn’t time myself, but I don’t think it was over five minutes.”

“Did you check out?”

“Not then. I went down to the lobby and... well, Lois Fenton wasn’t there.”

“Where was she?”

“I don’t know. I assumed she’d gone out somewhere. I was worried about her. I looked around for a while and then came back to my room. Then the real explanation occurred to me.”

“Which was what?”

“While she was in the lobby she must have seen her brother come in to keep his appointment with Callender. She and her brother went out and were talking. That was the only explanation that was possible. So I went back to my room and waited and waited and kept waiting, hoping there’d be a telephone call. Ten or fifteen minutes past two I became worried for fear Callender had intercepted her in the corridor and she might be in there with Callender. Callender didn’t know me and I decided I’d find out. I crossed the hall and knocked on Callender’s door.”

“Wait a minute,” Mason said, “that was a pretty late hour to be knocking on Callender’s door.”

“I know but I knew he was up. I could see the light under his door and I knew that he was expecting Jasper Fenton to call on him.”

“You were taking quite a chance, weren’t you?”

“No, Callender didn’t know who I was. He’d never seen me. I made up my mind I’d give him a fictitious name and tell him that I was looking for Jasper Fenton.”

“What did you do?”

“I knocked on the door and Callender shouted, ‘Don’t knock. Come on in. The door’s unlocked.’ I opened the door. He seemed surprised when he saw me. I told him I was looking for Jasper Fenton; that it was very important I see him and that I understood he had an appointment with Fenton. I asked Callender if Fenton was there. He said he wasn’t. I asked him if he expected Fenton to be there, and he wouldn’t give me a direct answer. He kept asking me questions trying to find out what my interest was in young Fenton. I stalled him along, and then told him I’d wait in the lobby and meet Fenton there.”

“Did you actually go into the room, or did you stand in the doorway?”

“I went in. When he called to me to come in, he evidently thought I was Jasper Fenton. When he saw I was a stranger, he was so curious to find out how I knew about Fenton’s appointment he wanted to pump me. He said to close the door as it was making a draft on him.”

“How long were you there in the room with him?”

“Just a minute or two.”

“Where was Callender?”

“He was sitting in a big, overstuffed chair. He didn’t get up all the time I was in the room.”

“Callender was alive and well when you left him?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“He’s dead now.”

Sheldon was open-mouthed with surprise. “Dead! What killed him?”

“You mean who killed him,” Mason said. “Somebody stuck him in the chest with a Japanese sword.”

“Good God!” Sheldon ejaculated, emphasizing both words. Mason said, “The police are going to start checking over registrations in that hotel. They’ll find you checked out at three o’clock this morning. The probabilities are Callender was dead by that time. They’ll start looking for you. You’re in love with Callender’s wife. You had the room across the hall from him.”

Sheldon walked over to the rickety bureau, jerked open a bureau drawer, pulled out some shirts, underwear, neckties and started stuffing them into the open suitcase, which rested on the floor by the bureau.

Mason watched silently as Sheldon pushed clothing helter-skelter into the suitcase.

Mason opened the door, saw that the corridor was clear, stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.