The Case of the Half-Wakened Wife

Chapter 7

Promptly at eight-forty the next morning Mason entered his office, met the surprised eyes of Della Street, said, “I know I’m early, but I want to talk with that Mrs. Keller when she comes in. I’m going to see if I can’t find some grounds for going after that crook.”

Della Street said, “I haven’t even got your desk all dusted yet.”

“That’s all right. I’m going out to the law library and prowl around a bit. I’m getting as bad as Jackson. Looking for precedents. I wonder if those women left the oil lease last night?”

“I haven’t looked in the outer office. I just got here myself.”

“Take a look,” Mason said.

Della Street went to the outer office and returned carrying an envelope. “They left it all right.”

Mason opened the envelope, took out the lease, walked over to his desk, pushed back the swivel chair, sat down, and tilted back to put his feet up on the desk, all without taking his eyes from the printed contract.

“What time does Jackson come in, Della?” he asked.

“Right on the dot at nine o’clock. You can set your watch by it. I presume he catches a certain car, and has established a precedent which he can’t break. Sometimes he’ll stay at the office until ten or eleven o’clock at night, but he always comes to work at that same time every morning.”

Mason said, “See if Gertie is in. I want to be certain that I see Mrs. Keller as soon as she comes to the office.”

Della Street picked up the telephone. She waited a moment then said, “Oh, hello, Gertie. I was just wondering if you were here. Mr. Mason is in the office and he’s going to see Mrs. Keller when she comes in. You might tell Jackson and... What’s that?... Just a minute.”

Della Street turned to Mason, said, “Gertie didn’t know you were in. There was a man in the office to see you. Gertie told him that you didn’t ever get in before nine-thirty and he says he’s coming back.”

“What’s his name?” Mason asked.

“Just a minute, I’ll ask her.”

“What’s his name, Gertie?”

Della Street turned to Perry Mason, said, “It was Parker Benton.”

“He’s in the office now?”

“He just left. He started for the elevator.”

“Catch him,” Mason ordered.

Della Street dropped the telephone receiver into its cradle, dashed across the office, jerked open the door, and sprinted down the corridor.

The door from the outer office opened. The receptionist and switchboard operator said contritely, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Mason. I didn’t know you were in the office. I didn’t even know Miss Street was here. I...”

“That’s all right, Gertie,” Mason said. “It just happens I’m anxious to see this man, that’s all.”

A moment later Della Street tapped on the door of Mason’s office. Mason opened the door and looked over Della’s shoulder to meet steely-gray eyes which probed out from under bushy eyebrows.

Mason said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Benton. My receptionist didn’t know I was in. I’m a little early this morning. Won’t you come in?”

Benton shook hands.

He was a muscular, broad shouldered, well fed individual somewhere around fifty-five. Dark hair flecked with gray was combed straight back from his forehead. He wore no hat and the deep even tan of his face indicated that he spent much of his time out of doors. He was, perhaps, some twenty pounds overweight but he carried it well and the grip of his hand was muscular and cordial.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I heard that a Mr. Jackson in your office was handling the matter I’m interested in. But it’s quite important to me, and I wanted to talk to you personally about it.”

“Sit down,” Mason invited. “Who told you about Mr. Jackson?”

“Jane Keller.”

“You’ve seen her?”

“Talked with her over the telephone.”

“Would you mind telling me just what happened?”

“Well, I think you know the general background.”

Mason said with a smile, “I prefer that you tell me.”

Benton laughed. “There’s no need beating around the bush, Mr. Mason, and no need to be cautious. The cat’s out of the bag.”

Mason offered his visitor a cigarette. “But under the circumstances it will help if you describe the cat so we’ll be perfectly certain we’re talking about the same animal.”

Benton laughed outright, said, “Last night a man by the name of Shelby got in touch with me, said that he understood I was buying an island from Jane Keller, that if I wanted to get a good title to the island I’d have to make some arrangements with him because he had an oil lease and was intending to start drilling. He said he took it for granted that I wouldn’t care to buy an island for residential purposes and then have him put some oil derricks in my front yard.”

“What,” Mason asked, “did you tell him?”

“Well, I asked him a few questions in order to get the picture.”

“And then?” Mason asked.

Benton laughed and said, “And then I told him to go to hell. I hate being blackmailed.”

Mason nodded.

“Now then, what can you tell me about the legal angles?”

“I don’t think he has a leg to stand on legally. His contract lapsed five months ago. I think there’s been an abandonment of the premises. I think there’s been a termination of the lease by a mutual implied consent. I don’t think the particular lease in question permits him to cure his default in the payment of rent, even if there hasn’t been any abandonment or mutual termination by implied consent.”

“And suppose we take the thing into court?”

“We can lick him.”

“How long?”

Mason ran his hand over his wavy hair.

“Go ahead,” Benton said. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Mason. I have my own lawyers. I can find out about these things. I’m simply trying to save time.”

“Well, of course,” Mason said, “it depends somewhat on the amount of opposition we meet, whether Shelby is simply running a naked bluff or whether he’s willing to spend some money to try and hold us up.”

“He’ll spend some money to try and hold us up.”

“You know him?”

“I didn’t, but I do.”

Mason raised his eyebrows.

Benton said, “I keep a firm of confidential investigators under retainer. Whenever a thing of this sort crops up, I try to find out something of the nature of the man I’m dealing with.”

Mason’s silence was an invitation to proceed.

After a moment Parker Benton said, “I don’t know why not. After all, we’re jointly interested in this thing. I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Mason, that I’m rather anxious to get that property if it can be worked out. But I certainly don’t want to have someone punching oil wells in my front yard or turning my swimming pool into an oil sump.”

Mason nodded.

“Scott Shelby,” Benton said, “is a promoter. He’s shrewd and he’s probably crooked. He’s something of a playboy, been married twice before. He now has a third wife considerably younger than he is. No one knows anything about his financial status because he keeps juggling his bank accounts around and is reputed to carry most of his money in the form of cash in a money belt. His credit is nil.”

“Beating the income tax?” Mason asked.

Benton made a little gesture with his hands. “You draw your conclusions, I draw mine. In that way we don’t run any risk of being sued for defamation of character.”

Mason looked across at the other man. “Why did you come here?”

“I wanted to find out about the legal aspects of the situation.”

“You have your own lawyers.”

“I thought you might be more familiar with the situation.”

“Why did you come here?”

Abruptly Parker Benton laughed and said, “All right, Mason, you win.”

“Go ahead,” Mason invited.

“All right,” Benton said. “I’ll put my cards on the table. That property is worth probably from fifteen to twenty thousand dollars. I’m paying thirty thousand dollars for it. And I’m anxious to get it.”

“How anxious?” Mason asked.

“Very anxious.”

“You mean you’d pay Shelby some blackmail in order to buy him out?”

Benton said, “As far as the money is concerned, it doesn’t make much difference. The principle of the thing does. I don’t like to be held up. I definitely don’t want to get the reputation of being an easy mark. I do want that property. If it costs money to get rid of Shelby, you’ll pay the money. Get me?”

Mason nodded.

“Now then,” Benton went on, “Shelby is running a bluff. He’ll back it up if we start to call him. He’ll have to. But he doesn’t want a lawsuit any more than anyone else.”

“You have something in mind?” Mason asked.

Benton looked at Mason, studying the lawyer, “You didn’t have someone call me up early this morning?”

Mason silently shook his head.

“Very early this morning,” Benton went on, “my telephone rang. A woman who seemed to know a great deal about the matter said that she was going to give me a friendly tip, that if I’d get Scott Shelby and his wife to accompany me sometime tonight on a cruise to the island aboard my yacht, I could get a settlement of the case. This person, a woman whose voice sounded very attractive, by the way, said Shelby really wanted to settle, but that Shelby was hotheaded. His wife, Marion, was the real balance wheel, a very sensible, charming woman.”

Benton stopped talking, waiting for Mason to say something, but the lawyer merely kept quiet.

“What do you think of it?” Benton asked at length.

“You don’t know who called you?”

“No.”

“She was particular to suggest the conference be aboard your yacht?”

“Yes.”

“The destination the island?”

“Yes.”

“For all you know then,” Mason said, smiling, “the voice was that of Mrs. Shelby, herself. She was quite probably coached by her husband to say what she did.”

Benton nodded. “I think that’s the real explanation.”

“Well?” Mason asked.

Benton said smiling, “I’m going to ring up Shelby. I’m going to invite him and his wife to come out to my yacht for a little cruise. I want you to come also. I’ll have Mrs. Keller there, all the interested parties. We’ll have a get-together. If Shelby makes a reasonable price, we’ll arrange a pool, pay him off and take a quitclaim.”

Mason said, “If you’d like a suggestion, I’ll give you one.”

“What?”

“The thing that will bother Shelby the most is that you might tell the title company to issue a certificate subject to that oil lease. Then the title company takes no responsibility for the oil lease and you go ahead and take the property. Then you tell Shelby to start suing you.”

“I’d still have a lawsuit on my hands,” Benton said.

Mason said, “I’m telling you that that would bother Shelby the most.”

Benton nodded. “I get your point, thanks.”

Mason said, “Engaging in litigation with you would be rather an expensive pastime.”

“Quite expensive,” Benton said.

Mason said, “In one way we’d be suing Shelby to quiet title so we could close the deal. He’d spar for time and run us crazy. This way I’ve suggested, you’d have the property and he’d have to sue you. It isn’t a position he’d like to be in.”

Benton pursed his lips, then asked abruptly, “You’re not married, Mr. Mason?”

“No.”

“I’m very anxious to have you come along on that yachting trip this afternoon. We leave here about four o’clock. There’s lots of room. Is there someone you’d like to bring along?”

Mason glanced at Della Street. Almost imperceptibly she nodded. Mason said, “I’ll bring my secretary.”

“That will be fine. And if there’s anyone else you want to bring, just bring them along. Anyone that would contribute to the life of the party. I want to make it something of a social success and then after we’ve all got acquainted we can sit down and talk business. And thank you very much, Mr. Mason, for giving me that lead about the angle to take in talking with Shelby.”

“Where do I meet you?” Mason asked.

“I’ll send a car about three-thirty. Now how about this Mr. Jackson? Do you think he’d like to go?”

Mason laughed, “I’m afraid that Jackson can’t find anything in the law books which establishes a legal precedent for settling a lawsuit aboard a yacht.”

“You mean he doesn’t do anything without a precedent?”

“Nothing,” Mason said.

Benton said definitely, “We don’t want him then.”

“I thought not.”

“We’ll be back late this evening?” Mason asked.

Benton pursed his lips, then smiled. “Frankly, Mr. Mason, I don’t think we will. But the others won’t know that. We’re going up to the island. At this season, whenever there’s a hot day, a fog usually drifts in at night. We can’t come back in a fog. Get me?”

“I get you,” Mason said.

“That’s fine, then. Bring a bag with overnight things — and don’t be surprised if you meet a strange assortment of people.”