The Case of the Lazy Lover

5

Las Olitas clung to the orchard covered foothills in drowsy contentment.

Here were the homes of ranchers who were making a good living from the country. Here also were the houses of wealthy people who had removed themselves from the hurry and the bustle of the city to the tranquillity of the rich little suburb.

Situated a thousand feet higher than the plain below, with a backdrop of rugged mountains behind it, Las Olitas was bathed in sunshine. From its residential section, one looked out over a bluish haze of atmospheric impurities to the place where the big city belched nauseous gases into the air.

It was a forty minute drive from Mason’s office to the main street of Las Olitas, and Mason paused for a moment to admire the clear blue sky, the slopes of the mountains in the background. Then the lawyer left his car in a parking lot and walked a short distance to the First National Bank.

The institution seemed to reflect the temperament of the community. Large, spacious and carefully designed by skillful architects, the bank was permeated with an atmosphere of placid stability.

Mason, running his eyes down the row of open offices back of a marble partition, found a brass plaque bearing the words, “C. E. Pawling, President.” Mason also noticed that Mr. Pawling was, for the moment, disengaged.

The lawyer moved over to the marble partition and studied the president, a man of around sixty who wore an expensively tailored suit with an air of distinction, whose keen, steady eyes managed to radiate a smiling welcome to the world at large, yet all the time those eyes were making a hard appraisal based on shrewd objective observation.

Mason bowed and the man behind the desk instantly arose and came over to the marble counter.

“My name is Mason,” the lawyer said.

Pawling extended his hand.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Yes, Mr.... not Perry Mason?”

“Yes.”

“Well, well, Mr. Mason! This is indeed a pleasure! Won’t you come in? I’ve read a lot about you. Are you thinking of opening an account, Mr. Mason?”

“No,” Mason said, as he walked through the mahogany gate which the bank president had opened. “I came to see you about a matter which, quite frankly, has puzzled me — the matter having to do with the interest and welfare of one of your depositors.”

“Indeed, Mr. Mason. Do sit down. Tell me about it.”

Mason said, “I received a check in the mail this morning, a check drawn on this bank in an amount of twenty-five hundred dollars.”

“Ah, yes,” Pawling said, his tone indicating that twenty-five hundred dollar retainers could well be paid by the majority of the depositors in his bank.

“I deposited that check with my own bank in the city, the Farmers, Merchants & Mechanics Bank.”

Pawling nodded.

“You have perhaps heard about it?” Mason asked.

Pawling said suavely, “I’d have to learn more of the details, Mr. Mason.”

“The person who signed that check,” Mason said, “was Lola Faxon Allred. She has an account also at this same bank where I carry my account. In examining the signature on the check, the bank officials became suspicious, called in a handwriting expert, and the handwriting expert pronounced the check a forgery.”

“Indeed.”

“I suppose that you were notified.”

“What is it you wish, Mr. Mason?”

Mason said, “I also received another check from Lola Faxon Allred, in an amount of twenty-five hundred dollars.”

Pawling was sitting quite straight in his chair now, his head tilted slightly so that he would be sure to catch every word the lawyer said.

“That check,” Mason said, “was good as gold. It was sent me by way of a retainer to represent Mrs. Allred in certain matters which concerned her. I am, therefore, in the position of having been a recipient of a forged check and the payee in a genuine check. I am also in the position of being Mrs. Allred’s attorney.”

“Ah, yes,” Pawling said.

Mason said, “My client is not available at the moment.”

“Indeed.”

“It occurs to me that the check on this bank which I received may not have been the only forgery which was perpetrated. Mrs. Allred, I believe, customarily makes her checks on a typewriter, does she not?”

“I believe so. Yes.”

“And only the signature in her handwriting?”

Pawling nodded.

Mason said, “I gather from certain things that I learned, that her account here is not too active. Of course, if a bank pays a forged check, the liability is that of the bank. But, I feel certain that my client would wish to take immediate steps to see that no further forgeries are perpetrated.”

Pawling pressed a button on his desk.

A secretary appeared from an adjoining office, became instantly attentive.

Pawling said, “Will you please get me a statement of the account of Lola Faxon Allred and cover all of the windows. I want any checks that have been presented today on the account.”

The secretary withdrew.

Mason said, “Am I correct in assuming the account is not very active?”

“I believe Mrs. Allred likes to have large amounts of cash on hand. She likes to keep her affairs in a rather liquid condition. I am assuming that as Mrs. Allred’s lawyer, you will not ask for information which she would not care to have given to you.”

“I feel certain that I will make no such request.”

Pawling nodded.

The secretary returned carrying a letter and a canceled check.

“The cashier intended to call this matter to your attention at the bank meeting tomorrow. He thought perhaps you should know about it, although it seems to be entirely regular in form. You will notice that the letter is addressed to him.”

Pawling took the letter and the canceled check, held both documents guardedly so that Mason could not see them. He studied the letter and the check for a few seconds, then drummed silently with the tips of his fingers on the edge of the desk.

At length he looked up and nodded to his secretary, said, “That’s all.”

The girl withdrew. Pawling turned to Mason. His eyes were no longer smiling. They were hard and steady in their appraisal.

“You have some reason for presenting this matter to me, Mr. Mason?”

“Well, yes.”

“May I ask what it is?”

Mason said, “My client retained me to look after certain interests. Then she became unavailable. The circumstances surrounding her departure are not entirely routine. It occurred to me that perhaps someone, knowing of her intended departure, had taken deliberate advantage of it to start making withdrawals from her account.”

“The forgery was done cleverly?”

“I believe so. Carbon paper and tracing, but it was detected by my bank, after I myself requested the officials of the bank to give the check the closest scrutiny.”

“In other words, you had some reason to think that the check had been forged?”

“I had reason to believe it might be to the interests of my client to have the check given very close scrutiny.”

“But, as I understand it, Mr. Mason, this check was purportedly for the purpose of retaining you to represent Mrs. Allred.”

“The other check was for that purpose.”

“But why should someone forge any check in your favor, Mr. Mason?”

The lawyer smiled. “That is one of the things I would like to determine.”

Pawling studied the letter and check for a few moments, and then abruptly reached a decision and passed them both to Mason.

The lawyer read the letter which was addressed to the cashier of the First National Bank at Las Olitas. It was entirely in typewriting, except for the signature, and read:

Over in the left-hand corner appeared the signature of Maurine Milford, and another signature of Lola Faxon Allred.

The check in an amount of five thousand dollars had been signed Lola Faxon Allred, then endorsed Maurine Milford, and under that endorsement appeared the signatures once more of Lola Faxon Allred and Maurine Milford.

“What do you make of it?” Pawling asked.

Mason gave the letter frowning consideration. “Do you have a magnifying glass there?” he asked.

“A very powerful one,” Pawling said, and opened the drawer of his desk.

Mason studied the signatures, said, “I’m no handwriting expert, but I would say that these signatures have not been made by the same means as the forged signature on the twenty-five hundred dollar check.”

Pawling nodded.

Mason went on, “The fact that Mrs. Allred went to such pains to see that Maurine Milford was provided with a means of identification is some indication that it might have been difficult for Miss Milford to have secured any other identification. In other words, Miss Milford is quite evidently a stranger here.”

Again the banker contented himself with a mere nod.

“And, quite apparently, there was some necessity for haste in connection with the transaction,” Mason said. “I see that the letter and the check were dated last Saturday. The documents were presented this morning.”

Mason turned the letter over, noticed a rubber stamp announcing the hour of receipt by the bank and said, “Apparently it was presented a few minutes after ten o’clock. Perhaps it would be a good plan to find out whether the cashier knows Maurine Milford.”

Pawling started to press the button, then checked himself, picked up the letter and the check, said, “Excuse me a moment, Mr. Mason,” and quietly opening the mahogany gate in his office walked unhurriedly along the long length of the corridor, to pause before the cashier’s window.

When he returned, he was carrying a slip of paper on which he had apparently jotted down the description which the cashier had given him.

“Maurine Milford,” the banker said, “is apparently a rather striking young woman, in the very early twenties, a decided brunette with dark eyes and long lashes. She was wearing a powder blue suit and dark blue suede gloves. She had a blue suede purse and an eccentric hat with red trim which perched on one side of her head. She took off her gloves when she presented the check. The cashier took the precaution of having her sign an additional endorsement to show she had received the money, and then paid her the money in hundred dollar bills. The cashier remembers that she was well-formed, slim-waisted and athletic-looking. She seemed thoroughly at ease, perfectly in command of herself and the situation. She smilingly parried all questions as to what she intended to do with the money. It was, of course, none of the cashier’s business, so he was tactful. He merely asked her whether she intended to establish a residence here, whether she would like to open an account, what denomination she would like the bills in, and things of that sort.

“The only thing which the cashier noticed that was at all conspicuous about her, aside from the fact that she was quite beautiful, was that her makeup was quite heavy, particularly the lips. The lipstick seemed to be rather vivid and the natural shape of the mouth had been radically distorted and thickened. As soon as her check was paid, she put the money in her purse and walked out.

“And that, Mr. Mason, seems to be about all we know concerning the transaction. I shall, of course, have a handwriting expert immediately check this letter and the signature on the check, but you will note there are three signatures — one on the letter, one on the face of the check, one on the back of the check under the endorsement of Maurine Milford. Each one of those signatures seems to be entirely genuine.”

The banker paused, inviting Mason’s further confidence.

The lawyer pushed back his chair. “Will you,” he asked, “telephone me at once, in the event there should be any question on the part of your handwriting expert?”

Pawling nodded.

Mason said, “I take it he will make a preliminary examination and then perhaps a more detailed examination. I should like to be kept advised.”

“I feel certain you are entitled to that courtesy.”

Mason, turning over the letter in his hand, said casually, “I’m not certain that you advised me as to whether there had been any other unusual activity on the part of Mrs. Allred’s account lately.”

Pawling said, “This is the only withdrawal that has been made during a period — well, of some time, Mr. Mason.”

Abruptly, Mason tilted the letter to one side so that the light struck it from an angle. Then he slid the tips of his fingers over the signature.

“Something?” the banker asked.

Mason said, “I would say that we may now safely put two and two together. You’ll notice a very slight indentation along the lines of this signature. Quite evidently, this was the signature from which the signature on the forged check was traced.”

“Dear, dear!” Pawling said as though he had suffered some minor irritation such as breaking the point of a pencil.

Mason regarded him quizzically. “A matter of some twenty-five hundred dollars,” he said.

Pawling positively beamed, “Which the bank has not paid, of course.”

“That does not alter the seriousness of the crime,” Mason said.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Nor the fact that I feel something should be done about it.”

“Such as what, Counselor?”

“Taking steps to see that no other forged checks are cashed.”

“That, of course, will be done, almost as a routine — fancy a forged check being used to retain a lawyer to ask that the account be protected from further forgeries! One would almost think that...”

“Yes, go on,” Mason said as the banker hesitated.

“That it had been planned that way.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Mason snapped.

“No, no, of course not! I merely said one would almost think so.”

“Thank you,” the lawyer said, “for stopping your thinking at the almost,” and walked out.

Mason handed his oblong parking ticket to the attendant of the lot next to the bank, said, “Were you on duty at ten o’clock?”

The attendant nodded, said cautiously, “What’s the trouble?”

“No trouble,” Mason said. “I wanted to get some information about someone who parked an automobile here for a few minutes.”

The man laughed and said, “Look, buddy, in order to keep this lot running, we have to handle hundreds of automobiles in the course of a day and...”

“This young woman,” Mason interrupted, “is one you probably would have noticed. She had a good figure, a tight-fitting blue suit, blue suede purse, a saucy little hat with red trim, on one side of her head, long dark eyelashes...”

“Would I have noticed a number like that!” the man said with enthusiasm. “Just hearing you describe her makes my mouth water. What about her?”

“Nothing, if you didn’t notice her.”

“I don’t think she parked her car here. You say it was this morning?”

“Almost exactly at ten o’clock this morning.”

“I don’t think so. We’re not too busy at ten o’clock in the morning. It isn’t until the streets begin to fill up that they start coming in here.”

Mason thanked him, paid for his car, circled around the block and drove into the parking station across the street from the bank.

“You on duty at ten this morning?” he asked the attendant.

The man hesitated before answering.

Mason said, “You’re eligible for a five dollar reward, if you were.”

“That’s different! What’s the reward for?”

“I am trying to find out something about a girl about twenty, twenty-one, or twenty-two years old, blue suit, nice figure, brunette, blue leather purse, blue gloves, a tricky little hat on one side of her head, who...”

“What do you want to know about her?”

“Anything I can find out. Do you remember her?”

“I think I do. What about the five bucks?”

“A little information about the make and model of the car she was driving, or anything of that sort.”

The man grinned. “Give me the five bucks, mister.”

Mason passed him a five dollar bill.

“It’s a Chrysler convertible from a drive-yourself agency in the city. I don’t know the name of the agency, but I know it was a drive-yourself outfit. I remember her because she was a neat little number and I was especially nice to her. Sometimes that gets you something.”

“Get you anything this time?” Mason asked.

“A smile.”

“That’s all?”

“That was enough.”

“You didn’t try to find out anything about her or...”

“Nope. She wasn’t that kind.”

“That’s all you know?”

“That’s it.”

Mason said, “Play the ponies with the five bucks. Perhaps you’ll be lucky.”

“Perhaps I will. Thanks.”

From a telephone Mason called Drake’s office and when he had the detective on the line, said, “Paul, I want you to cover the drive-yourself agencies. I want you to find out anything you can about a woman around twenty-one, twenty-two, or twenty-three, who rented a drive-yourself car this morning.” Swiftly he described her. “She may or may not have given the name of Milford. She had a Chrysler convertible, and I want every place in the city covered and covered fast.”

“Okay,” Drake said. “Anything else?”

“That’s all. What’s new at your end?”

Drake said, “I haven’t made too much headway, Perry. I haven’t been able to get a photograph of Mrs. Allred, as yet. Patricia Faxon left the house shortly after nine o’clock this morning and hasn’t been back since. No one seems to know exactly where she is. I’ve found the place where the runaway couple stayed in Springfield. Provided it is the runaway couple and not a couple of ringers who are acting as red herrings.”

“How come?” Mason asked.

“This couple,” Drake said, “showed up in a motel at Springfield a little after midnight Saturday. They wanted a double cabin. The motel had only one left. They took it. The woman was driving the car and she conducted all the negotiations and did the registering. The man sat in the car with his arms folded, apparently too lazy to move, and didn’t show the slightest interest in what was going on. The woman registered as ‘R. G. Fleetwood and Sister,’ and said they would occupy the cabin for two nights.

“Sunday morning, the woman went over to the motel office and inquired about renting dishes and about a grocery store that would be open on Sunday.”

“Was there a kitchen in the double cabin they occupied?” Mason asked.

“That’s right. The motel rented her a set of dishes and told her where she could buy groceries. She drove off and returned with a big basket of groceries on the seat beside her.”

“Did the man go with her?”

“No. She said he was sleeping, he liked to sleep late on Sunday mornings. The woman evidently did all the cooking all day Sunday, and also this morning. She showed up about nine-thirty this morning, returned the dishes all nicely cleaned and polished, announced that they were checking out, and left shortly after. No one seems to know in which direction she was headed.”

“They got in about midnight Saturday?” Mason asked.

“That’s right. It may have been a half an hour after midnight, but I figure a good two hours’ driving time from here to Springfield, so they must have left around — oh, say around ten o’clock in the evening, and figuring that they might have got into Springfield at half an hour or so after midnight, you can figure they must have left the city by ten-thirty at the latest.”

“And the woman wanted a double cabin?”

“That’s right, insisting that it must have three separate beds.”

“Why did she want three separate beds for herself and her brother?”

“She didn’t say. Simply said she wanted a double cabin. She preferred one double bed and twin beds. Of course, at the time, the people at the motel didn’t ask how many were in the party. They acted on the assumption there would be three, at least, and fixed the price accordingly.”

“How about descriptions?” Mason asked.

“Descriptions check as nearly as I can get them,” Drake said. “Of course, the woman could have been a ringer and it could all be a beautiful red herring. I also have something on the telegram. The telegram was sent from Springfield by a woman who telephoned in from a pay station. She was advised that the charge for the telegram would be forty cents, and dropped the forty cents into the coin slot of the pay station telephone. That’s all Western Union knows about it.”

Mason laughed and said. “The bank unhesitatingly accepts the telegram as confirming the check and it now appears the telegram has no greater authenticity than a voice saying it belonged to Lola Faxon Allred.”

“That’s right,” Drake said. “I couldn’t get anything more on the man. The only time anyone saw him was in the car when they arrived.”

“That’s a hell of a way for a man who’s running away with a married woman to act,” Mason said. “He didn’t show any interest in the accommodations?”

“No, while the woman made all the arrangements, he just sat there, slumped down in the seat.”

Mason said, “All right. Keep plugging on this car rental business. I want to get this girl located. I have a hunch the car was rented this morning, probably around nine o’clock, and there’s just a chance it hasn’t been turned in yet. Sprinkle enough operatives around so that when she returns the car, you can put a shadow on her.”

“Okay, Perry. I’ll get some men on the job.”

“And start covering hotels, tourist camps, motels and all the rest of it to try and find a trace of this couple,” Mason said.

Drake said irritably, “What the hell do you think we’re doing, Perry?”

“Probably thinking up some new way to pad expense accounts,” Mason said, and hung up.