The Case of the Negligent Nymph

Chapter 10

THE MONADNOCK HOTEL APARTMENTS HAD AN ORNATE front which made an imposing impression of glittering white stucco and red tile. The sides of the building were plain uncovered brick, with narrow windows indicating that most of the apartments were spaced at the conventional cramped intervals required by tenants in the lower economic brackets.

Mason parked his car, ran up the front steps, entered the long, narrow lobby, saw the light over the desk, and approached the night clerk.

“You have a Dorothy Fenner living here,” he said. “I’m Perry Mason.”

The clerk ostentatiously looked at the clock.

“Her lawyer,” Mason said. “Ring her, please, and tell her I’m here.”

The clerk plugged in the line, depressed a key several times, then said, “I’m afraid she doesn’t care to answer, or … Oh, just a minute.”

Into the mouthpiece he said, “Mr. Perry Mason, your attorney, wishes to see you.”

He hesitated a moment, frowned, once more looked at the clock, then said to Mason, rather dubiously, “You may go up, Mr. Mason. It’s Apartment 459.”

Mason took the elevator to the fourth floor, followed the numbers of the apartments down the corridor, tapped on the door of 459.

Dorothy Fenner, attired in a housecoat, opened the door and said, “Why, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Sorry, I have to see you.”

She stood to one side, swinging the door open for him to come in, then closed it behind him.

She said, “The apartment’s a mess. It’s a single and— well, there’s the bed down and—I was sound asleep. I am hardly awake yet.”

“Okay,” Mason told her. “Let’s do some fast talking. George Alder is dead.”

“Dead!”

Mason nodded.

“How in the world? Why … what happened?”

“Murdered.”

“Good heavens! Who killed him? What … “

“They don’t know,” Mason said. “A preliminary re-port states that Sally Bangor, a servant, found his body lying on the floor when she returned from her evening off.”

“Sally Bangorl”

“You know her?” Mason asked.

“I know who she is, yes. I’ve been at the house as a guest several times.”

Mason said, “Well, the police may come here to question you.”

“Why?”

“Because of what happened Saturday night”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Nothing,” Mason said, “except that there’s some indication the person who committed the murder escaped by water. The police may decide they’ll put two and two together. Have you been out anywhere tonight?”

“No, I’ve been in my room ever since I was released.”

“How about dinner?”

“I didn’t want any. I just fixed myself a cup of chocolate and let it go at that. I had all the materials here so I didn’t go out”

“Any proof of that?”

She said irritably, “A single woman is hardly in a position to furnish an alibi for the time she’s in bed.”

“I mean during the evening. Anyone know that you didn’t go out?”

“Why, of course, the man at the desk would have seen me if I’d gone out.”

Mason sat down on the edge of the bed. Dorothy Fenner came over and sat down beside him.

“Alder didn’t try to telephone you or get in communication with you, did he?” Mason asked, “—after court, I mean.”

She crossed her knees. The housecoat fell away from her right leg. She gathered the garment, started to draw it into place, then regarded her flesh contemplatively and said, “You know, Mr. Mason, for an office girl, I really have a nice sunburn, haven’t I?”

She stretched the leg out, and moved the housecoat up so that he could see the bronzed blonde skin.

Mason gave her leg a casual glance, nodded, said, “Nice.”

“Thank you.”

“We were talking about George Alder,” Mason re-minded her.

“Oh, yes, what about him?”

“Whether he telephoned or tried to get in touch with you.”

She touched her bare leg at about the place where the top of her stocking would have been, moved her fingers along it slowly as though tracing some invisible line.

Mason said, “For heaven sakes wake up, pay attention to me. Let’s get this stuff over with. Answer the. question, can’t you? It would seem that you are deliberately trying to distract my attention in order to gain time.”

She deliberated for two or three seconds, then said, quietly, “He was here.”

“Here!” Mason exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“The deuce he was. When?”

“I presume after he’d finished a conference with the deputy district attorney, and before he went back home.”

“Can you fix the time?”

“Oh, I’d say somewhere around six or half-past.”

Mason said, “Now look, this hearing was in an adjoining county. After I secured your discharge I drove you back here. That took forty minutes. Now, how long after you arrived here at this apartment hotel, and I had let you out of the car at the curb, did Alder get here?”

“Oh, I’d say it was an hour. Perhaps a little over.”

“And during that time he’d been closeted with the district attorney down there?”

“Some of the time, yes. At least that’s what he said.”

“Why didn’t he go directly back to his island home? Why did he come all the way here?”

“He wanted to see me.”

“What did he want?”

“He was holding out an olive branch. He said he wanted to make some sort of a settlement.”

“Why didn’t you notify me?”

Her eyes were wide with innocence. “Why, I was going to—first thing in the morning.”

“But why didn’t you let me know immediately?”

“You said you could only be reached through this Drake Detective Agency and not to call you unless it was something extremely urgent I thought that could wait until tomorrow.”

“What was his idea of a settlement?”

“He wanted to pay me some money, I know that.”

“How much?”

“He was indefinite.”

She had extended her right forefinger now and was tracing intricate patterns on the flesh of her leg.

“Go ahead, what happened?”

“He suggested that he’d acted hastily. He admitted that he had gone out to my yacht, searched it, found the bottle and taken possession of that letter again. He said he could prove to me the letter was a forgery and said he wanted to make some sort of adjustment for the trouble I’d been to.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“Why, I thought that could keep until morning.”

“And what did he want you to do?”

“Just make a settlement.”

“Did he offer you any amount?”

“Nothing specific, but he said that if I’d come down to his house he could first prove to me that the letter was a forgery, and then … “

“When?”

“When I got there.”

“No, no. I mean when did he want you to come?”

“Tonight, or … What time is it? … Oh, it’s morning. Well, then, it was last night”

“What else did he say?”

“He said he’d be expecting me, that he’d leave the gate unlocked across the bridge and the gate in the wall unlocked. I could open both gates and walk right around to the side of the house where I was to go directly into his study. He said he’d have the dog shut up and he’d be waiting for me.”

“You didn’t go?”

“Of course not. You told me not to.”

“But you didn’t tell him you weren’t coming?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I thought I’d better keep your instructions to myself.”

“To whom have you said anything about this conversation?”

“To no one.”

“You’re certain you didn’t go?”

“Of course I didn’t go. Naturally I didn’t want to see him unless you were along.”

“And exactly what did he want?”

“He wanted my promise that we’d never say anything about that letter to the newspapers. He said he could convince both of us that it was all a fraud, a pack of false statements.”

Mason got up off the edge of the bed and began pacing the floor. “You haven’t told anyone about this?”

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

Mason said, “Don’t be silly. They’d try to hang the murder on you then. They know that Alder was expecting someone and the assumption is that that person was responsible for his murder. If they found out Alder was expecting you they’d … “

“But I had no intention in the world of going down there. He kept insisting that he’d keep the gates and door open for me, and that the dog would be chained up.”

“The dog was shut up in a closet,” Mason said.

“I think he keeps the dog there much of the time when he’s expecting people around the house, doesn’t he?”

“I guess so. How do you get along with the dog?”

“I’ve virtually never seen him except that Saturday night when he came running after me. Whenever I’ve been there as a guest the dog has been shut up in that sort of closet. It’s really a little dog apartment, and Prince is quite happy there.”

“What kind of deal did Alder want to make with you?”

“I don’t know. I told him he’d have to negotiate it with my lawyer.”

“So he may have been expecting you down there tonight?”

“Of course. He wanted me to come, but I didn’t say that I would.”

“Did he take that answer as final?”

“He seemed to think he could hypnotize me, or browbeat me, or coax me into coming. Almost the last thing he said was that he’d be waiting there for me and that the gates would be left unlocked. I was to come right on into his study.”

Mason said, “Don’t tell anybody that. If the police come here, and it begins to look now as though they might, simply tell them that I was the one who told you George Alder was murdered. Explain to them that I came here especially to tell you not to make any statements to the police or to newspapers or to anyone, because technically your case is still pending in the courts. Use that as an excuse to keep from talking. Don’t make any statements whatever other than, ‘no comment.’”

She nodded.

“Think you can do that?”

“But yes, of course.”

Mason said, “I don’t want you to he about anything, but I don’t want you to tell anyone Alder was here tonight. And definitely, positively, absolutely, and finally, I don’t want you, even by admission, intimidation or otherwise to let anyone know that Alder had asked you to come down there tonight.”

“But won’t I have to tell that sooner or later? Isn’t it evidence, and..

“You can tell it as evidence and at the proper time—if you have to,” Mason said. “In the meantime we’re going to watch and see what develops. You know Carmen Monterrey?”

“Of course.”

“You didn’t put an ad for her in the paper, did you?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Heavens, I haven’t heard from her for weeks. She was down in South America and … well, I guess she stayed there for quite a while, hoping that there’d be some trace of Corrine. She was very much attached to Corrine, and I know she felt bitter against Minerva Danby because of the way Minerva Danby walked out. Well, after reading that letter, I don’t know as I blame Minerva—I’d always felt rather bitter toward her from what I’d understood from Carmen’s letters, and then—well, I can see now how it was from Minerva’s standpoint. I think Carmen came back once when it seemed that Corrine might be here in this country, but it tinned out to be a false lead and she went right back to South America. I don’t know where she is now.”

Mason nodded, said, “Don’t try to pull any fancy stuff with the police. Get dressed, tell them I’ve been here, told you Alder was murdered and that you were not to give any interviews to the press or make any statements to the police, other than to state that you hadn’t left this apartment since you returned to it around five-thirty or six o’clock.”

“But when they ask me how you knew about the murder what shall I tell them?”

Mason grinned, and said, “Tell them you employ a lawyer to answer questions for you, that you don’t want to start answering his questions for him. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling.

Mason picked up his hat, started for the door.

She came over to stand with her hand on the doorknob. “You’re nice.”

“Thanks.”

Abruptly she raised her lips. “Good night,” she said.

As Mason bent to kiss her, her arm moved up around his neck, then her fingers were at the back of his head pulling the hair, pressing his head down to hers.

Then suddenly she released her hold, stepped back and looked at him with eyes that were dark with emotion.

“You are nice,” she half whispered.

“Thank you,” Mason said, and slipped out into the corridor.

It was two or three seconds before he heard the door close behind him and he had taken three more steps before he heard the bolt shoot angrily into place.