The Case of the Fenced-In Woman

Chapter 5

The woman who opened the door a scant half inch in response to the chimes was unusually tall, graceful and gave the appearance of being completely self-reliant. She was holding a robe tightly across her chest.

“Yes?” she asked inquiringly, looking at Mason with frankly appraising eyes.

“I’m Perry Mason, the attorney,” Mason said. “I—”

“Oh,” she interrupted, “I knew I’d either seen you or seen your picture. This is a real pleasure, Mr. Mason. I’m Nadine Palmer — although I suppose you know or you wouldn’t be calling. However, I’m simply not presentable. I was just out of the shower when I heard the chimes.”

She hesitated a moment, then gave him her hand, extending it with a certain deliberation which made the gesture seem that she was extending to the lawyer a part of her personality.

“May I come in for just a moment?” Mason asked.

“I’m not presentable... oh, well, come on in. You’ll have to wait for me to get some clothes on.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “It’s important or I wouldn’t bother you.”

Mason followed her into the small but tastefully furnished apartment,

She indicated a seat by a reading table and said, “What is it, Mr. Mason, am I in trouble?”

“Were you expecting trouble?” Mason asked.

She said, “I’ve had troubles and I will probably have more. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll change.”

Mason said, “Go right ahead. I’ll wait although I haven’t much time. I have to go to a press conference. I’m attorney for Morley Eden. Morley Eden, in case you didn’t know, purchased some property from Loring Carson and...”

At the mention of Carson’s name her eyes flashed, her mouth tightened. Halfway to the bedroom she paused, whirled to face him. “Just what do you have to do with Loring Carson?” she asked ominously.

“At the moment,” Mason said, “I am not violating any confidence in telling you that I am about to file suit against him for something over three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in damages on the ground of fraud, asking for triple compensatory damages, and for exemplary damages.”

“I hope you collect every last red cent,” she said.

Mason smiled. “Evidently he is no great friend of yours.”

“That louse!” she said, spitting the words out contemptuously. “He’s torn my reputation to shreds and hung the tatters up before every gossip columnist in the city.”

“I understood there was some mistake,” Mason said, “and—”

“Mistake!” she snapped. “There wasn’t any mistake. That man deliberately tried to blacken the name of his wife, and the fact that he dragged me down in the process made not one bit of difference to him.”

“I believe your name was mentioned?” Mason asked.

“Mentioned?” she said. “He screamed it all over the city. He filed a cross-complaint stating that his wife was carrying on an affair with one Norbert Jennings, that they had made trips together over weekends, his wife registering under the fictitious name of Nadine Palmer.

“Then, after his wife stood by her guns and contested the suit, the heel had the audacity to state that it was all a mistake, that his private detective had shadowed the wrong person; that he had inadvertently pointed me out to the detective instead of his wife; that his wife was not the person who had registered in various weekend resorts, but that it was I, one Nadine Palmer, a person whom his private detective had been shadowing under the misapprehension that the woman was his wife. You can imagine where that has left me.”

Mason nodded sympathetically.

Abruptly she seated herself. “You’re a lawyer, Mr. Mason. You’ve seen women in bathrobes before. You don’t have much time and neither do I. Okay, let’s talk it over and get it settled right now.

“People make me sick! There’s more hypocrisy about our civilization and our so-called code of morals than anyone wants to admit. When I married Harvey Palmer, I was what is referred to generally as a ‘good girl.’ That was the trouble with me. I didn’t know enough about men. I didn’t know enough about life and I knew virtually nothing about sex.

“I went through five years of all the degrading hell to which a woman could be subjected, and then I decided that since there weren’t any children I certainly owed Harvey Palmer nothing more. I walked out. Just to show you how dumb I was, I waived all claim to alimony. I had been a working girl before I was married and I went back to being a working girl — only I was no longer a girl. I was a woman.

“That’s one thing about divorce, Mr. Mason, that the books don’t tell you about. You’ve changed from a girl to a woman. You’re on your own. You have found out that matrimony isn’t all a bed of roses, yet you’re a human being with normal appetites and desires and you’re marked. You’re indelibly marked.

“Any man who takes an interest in you is keenly conscious of the fact that you aren’t a girl any longer, that you’re a woman; that you’ve been married. He treats you accordingly. If you don’t respond the way he thinks you should respond, you’re ‘holding out on him’.

“Men go around bragging about their conquests. Married men have mistresses. It’s all taken as a part of life by society. But a divorcee is neither fish, flesh, fowl nor herring. She’s supposed to be a pushover.

“And now comes this... this unspeakable cad, with his private eye. I can’t tell whether the private eye was too dumb to know the difference or not, but this much I do know. Loring Carson was, is and always will be a heel.

“Norbert and I were very close friends. I think he was going to ask me to marry him and under those circumstances I probably would have said yes — but I wasn’t going to walk into it with my eyes closed. I’d done that once. I wasn’t going to do it again.

“Now Norbert feels he’s been made ridiculous. He...”

“Has changed his mind about asking you to marry him?” Mason asked.

“Changed his mind?” she said. “Heavens, no! Now the man is insistent. He calls me up, proposing marriage two and three times a day. I hang up on him. And why is he doing all that, Mr. Mason? Simply because he feels that it was through him that what people refer to as a ‘girl’s good name’ was besmirched.

“I’m over twenty-one, I’m divorced and I’ve got a right to live my own life. I just wish society would let me alone. And as far as Loring Carson is concerned I hope he drops dead...”

She threw back her head with a little toss, as though shaking unpleasantness from her mind, and said, “Now I’ve unburdened myself and spat out my venom, Mr. Mason, and perhaps after having been guilty of inflicting my personal spleen on you, I’ll be polite enough to let you explain the purpose of your visit.”

“It’s quite all right,” Mason said. “I came here to try and spare you some publicity.”

“How?”

“This suit that I have filed against Loring Carson, or which is probably being filed at about this time, is rather spectacular. I don’t know whether you’re familiar with the real estate deal between Carson and Morley Eden.”

She shook her head.

“Well,” Mason said, “there were two adjoining lots. One of the lots was held to be the separate property of Mrs. Carson, one was community property which the court awarded to Loring Carson. It was purchased by Morley Eden for a fair consideration and to which Morley Eden therefore has a good title — and that includes title to the portion of the building resting on that lot.

“Two persons had their reputations affected by Loring Carson’s cross-complaint — you and Vivian Carson, his wife.”

“I have every sympathy for her,” Nadine Palmer declared.

“So, apparently, does Judge Goodwin,” Mason said.

“What has he done about it? I understood Carson had his financial affairs so badly tangled up the court couldn’t even begin to get them straightened out.”

Mason said, “It’s always a mistake to underestimate a judge’s intelligence.”

“Meaning that Carson underestimated Judge Goodwin’s intelligence?”

“I think so.”

“Would it be fair for me to ask you what is happening?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Mason said. “I felt you should know. Judge Goodwin feels that once a woman’s good name has been sullied it is very, very difficult to get it unsullied.”

“He can say that again!” Nadine said fervently.

“When a newspaper publishes a story,” Mason went on, “it is given prominence in accordance with its reader interest. For instance, the story of a woman who has been stepping out and has been caught in the act rates considerable publicity. Later on, the fact that it was all a mistake rates no publicity at all.”

“Are you talking about my case now?” she asked.

“In reverse,” Mason said. “Judge Goodwin is thinking about Vivian Carson. He would like to have Carson’s mistake publicized. So he has placed my client in such a position that we have to take action. I think Judge Goodwin was very shrewd in his reasoning, but I think he overlooked one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The effect on you.”

“And what about the effect on me?”

“The step I am taking,” Mason said, “is going to result in the newspapers giving great publicity to the comedy of errors, to the fact that you were pointed out to Carson’s detective in place of Vivian Carson.”

“I think that was all done deliberately,” she said.

“That’s not the point,” Mason said. “The point is that the whole thing is going to be rehashed at great length in the press.”

She started to say something, then suddenly the full impact of the lawyer’s words dawned on her. Her eyes widened. “You mean they’re going to bring it all up again about the weekend trips?”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, Lord,” she moaned.

Mason said, “Therefore, I felt that you might care to make some plans in advance. If you want to meet the press, you might care to hand out a written statement so that you wouldn’t be misquoted. If, on the other hand, you don’t want to meet the press, this might be a good time for you to be hard to find.”

She hesitated only a moment, said, “I’m going to be hard to find. When is all this going to break?”

“Probably within the next hour.”

She got to her feet, said, “Look here, Mr. Mason, do you have any objection to being quoted?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you advised me to make myself hard to find.”

Mason thought for a moment, shook his head. “I’m not in a position to advise you. You’re not my client. I already have one client in the case. I’m simply trying to give you a friendly tip.”

“All right. Will you remember that you gave me a friendly tip and told me to make myself scarce?”

“That was one of the alternatives I suggested might be wise.”

“It’s the alternative I want to take,” she said. “You wait there just a moment. I’m going to crawl in a hole and pull the hole in after me. What’s more, I’m going out with you. You can drive me downtown.”

She hurried across the apartment, opened a door, and just before she slammed it shut behind her called over her shoulder, “Wait there until I can get dressed and throw some things in a bag. I’m getting out of here.”

The lawyer seated himself, consulted his wristwatch, frowned thoughtfully, reached for the cigarette case in his pocket and found that he was out of cigarettes. He waited another minute, then called out through the door, “Are there any cigarettes in here, Mrs. Palmer?”

Her voice sounded startlingly clear through the thin door. “In my purse there’s a pack. The purse is on the table.”

The lawyer moved over to the open purse, noticed a pack of cigarettes, took one out, snapped his lighter into flame and suddenly paused as he realized the cigarette was limp with moisture.

Abruptly the door from the bedroom flew open. Nadine Palmer, trailing an almost transparent negligee through which could be seen her figure in the scantiest of lingerie, came hurrying into the room.

“I hope you found it all right,” she said.

She grabbed up her purse, fumbled inside of it for a moment, then produced a pack of cigarettes and extended it to the lawyer.

Mason shifted his position.

“Now wait a minute, that’s not fair,” she said, laughing. “You’re jockeying me between you and the light. I’m not dressed to be silhouetted right at the moment. I’m just trying to be hospitable. Here.”

Mason took one of the cigarettes from the package she handed him, surreptitiously dropping the first cigarette into the side pocket of his coat.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I should have put you on your honor to close your eyes,” she said. “Now just be patient for a minute. I’m going to let you drive me to the nearest downtown bus stop.”

She whirled and, making a feeble and somewhat futile attempt to grab the negligee around her, hurried back to the bedroom.

The lawyer again snapped his lighter into flame. The new cigarette which she had handed him caught instantly and burned slowly. Mason looked in the open purse. The package of cigarettes in the purse seemed to be exactly the same as the package from which he had extracted the damp cigarette. Examining the pack, however, he found each cigarette was perfectly dry.

Puzzled, Mason withdrew the other cigarette from his side pocket, felt it with an exploring thumb and forefinger. That cigarette was definitely water-soaked.

Mason sat in thoughtful silence smoking the cigarette, from time to time watching the smoke eddying up from the smoldering tip.

Before the cigarette was entirely finished, Nadine Palmer, attired in a neat, well-tailored suit, was in the room carrying an overnight bag, her purse and a small suitcase.

“I’ll let you do the honors with the suitcase,” she said. “Do you have a car here?”

“I have a car.”

“Then may I ride with you until I can get a bus?”

“Certainly,” Mason said.

“Which way are you going?”

“I’m on my way to see my client, Morley Eden. He’s the one who purchased the Loring Carson property and had Carson build the house.”

“You’re on your way out there now?” she asked, almost, it seemed, in dismay.

“Yes.”

“I’ll ride part way with you,” she said. “I’ll get off at the first through bus line we encounter.”

“You don’t want a cab to come here?”

“I want to leave here with you because I don’t want to be traced,” she said, “and when the reporters get on the track of a spicy story of this sort they are veritable demons. They can ask the most embarrassing questions.”

“I take it,” Mason said, “that the registration was not in the name of Mr and Mrs. Norbert Jennings, but was in your own name, at least as far as you’re concerned.”

“The registrations were okay,” she said, “but they were very definitely weekend trips, and just as I told you, Mr. Mason, I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. People have a tendency to draw their own conclusions when they’re dealing with a divorcée — and I’m a divorcee. Shall we go?”

Mason picked up the suitcase, led the way to the elevator, then out to his car. He saw Nadine Palmer give a hasty, apprehensive look over her shoulder as he held the car door open. She jumped in with a flash of graceful legs and a dazzling smile.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Mason,” she said. “You’re a help, a big help — perhaps more of a help than you realize at the moment.”

“Well,” Mason said somewhat awkwardly, “it occurred to me that Judge Goodwin was thinking entirely of Vivian Carson and I thought that someone should think of you because, after all, you’re just as much of an innocent victim as Vivian Carson.”

“Not in the judicial mind,” she said. “After all, I did permit myself to become interested in Norbert Jennings. I did go on various weekend trips with him.”

“Where?” Mason asked.

“All sorts of places. You’ll be reading about it in the papers. I’m afraid I was — oh, damn it, ‘indiscreet’ sounds like such a prissy word. I will put it this way: I was uncareful. I naturally didn’t expect that a detective would be following along behind, keeping notes on everything I did.”

“Was it so terrible?” Mason asked.

“It could be made to appear that way. After a floor show in Las Vegas Norbert escorted me to my room. We had some drinks there and talked. I guess it was two-thirty in the morning when he left. And, of course, there was this sneaky detective parked around the corner with a notebook and a stopwatch, keeping track of the time — and, of course, drawing his own conclusions.”

Mason started the car, drove slowly down the street. “Did you,” he asked, “ever know a woman in Las Vegas, a hostess by the name of Genevieve Hyde?”

“Why?” she asked.

“She seems to have been the girlfriend of Loring Carson,” Mason said. “As such she might be of some importance. Did you know her — ever meet her personally?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. I saw some of the hostesses, of course, and have talked with many of them without knowing their names. I’ve been to Las Vegas quite frequently.”

“With Jennings?”

“I’ve made several trips with him — I’ve made other trips. I like Las Vegas. I like the glitter. I like the excitement. I... I’ll be frank with you, Mr. Mason. I like to gamble.”

“Have you ever been there just by yourself?”

“Never. I always go in a foursome or with perhaps some escort as in the case with Norbert Jennings and — well, gambling is a little expensive for a working girl... If an escort wants to furnish me with chips, I...”

“You say you didn’t ask for alimony?” Mason asked, as her voice trailed away. “May I inquire just how you do get along?”

She said hurriedly, “There’s a taxicab right over by those apartments, Mr. Mason! If you’ll let me out here, please, right here at the corner! I’ll take a cab instead of a bus.”

She lowered the car window. “Taxi,” she called. “Taxi.”

Mason eased the car to a stop. The cab driver nodded, opened the door of the cab and hurried over to pick up the baggage from the lawyer’s car.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Mason,” she said.

She blew him a saucy kiss, then turned to the cab driver.

Behind Mason a car honked its horn and the lawyer moved on into traffic.