The Case of the Nervous Accomplice

Chapter 1

Della Street, Perry Mason’s confidential secretary, said, “We have a Mrs. Enright A. Harlan in the office who seems to be having domestic troubles.”

Mason jokingly jerked his thumb toward the corridor.

“I know,” Della Street said. “I told her that you didn’t handle divorce cases and she said this wasn’t a divorce case. It was simply a case of domestic difficulties.”

“Not a divorce?” Mason asked.

“That’s what she says.”

“And not an action for separate maintenance?”

“She says not.”

“Then why does she want a lawyer?”

“She said she’d have to explain that in detail. She says she has a scheme she wants to talk to you about.”

“And it’s about a domestic difficulty?”

“That’s right.”

“Did she tell you what kind of domestic difficulty?”

“It seems her husband is cheating.”

“I take it there’s something unusual about this woman, Della, or you wouldn’t have adopted this attitude.”

“What attitude?”

“Wanting me to see her.”

Della Street nodded.

“Why?”

“Perhaps I’d like to know what scheme she has in mind. It might come in handy some day. I can tell you one thing — she’s most unusual.”

“In what way?”

“It’s hard to describe — the way she dresses, the way she carries herself, the swing of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin.”

“How old?”

“Twenty-six or -seven.”

“Good-looking?”

“Not what you’d call beautiful, but she has character, individuality, fire, fight, quickness of perception, and personality plus. And if that doesn’t arouse your curiosity, Mr. Perry Mason, you’re not human.”

“That does it. Send her in,” Mason said. “Let’s see how to handle a cheating husband without divorce, without separate maintenance and by using a scheme which requires the advice of a lawyer to keep it within the limits of law.”

Della Street nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you’ll see her. As I mentioned before I might learn something that would stand me in good stead in the future.”

She went to the outer office and returned in a few moments with the prospective client, who glanced swiftly around the office, in a quick appraisal.

She didn’t wait for introductions but came forward, her hand extended. “Good morning, Mr. Mason. It’s nice of you to see me. Where do I sit?”

Mason indicated the big, overstuffed chair reserved for clients.

“I told your secretary my troubles. I presume you know all the preliminaries. I’m Sybil Harlan — Mrs. Enright A. Harlan.”

Mason nodded.

She seated herself, put her purse on the floor, crossed her legs. “My husband’s stepping out on me and I want to do something about it.”

“How long have you been married?” Mason asked.

“Five years. Today is my fifth wedding anniversary, if that helps.”

“Is this the first time he has strayed from the fold?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What did you do the other times?”

“Not times. It was one time. I simply waited for him to come back home, gave him something interesting to think about, and beat the other girl’s time.”

“This is different?” Mason asked.

“This time it’s different.”

Mason said tentatively, “I don’t know what you have in mind, but I don’t handle divorce cases. I don’t care for them.”

“Neither do I.”

“I believe you told my secretary you didn’t want separate maintenance?”

“That’s right.”

“Is there any community property?”

“Lots of it. There’s also quite a bit of my own separate property.”

“So you don’t want alimony?”

“All I want is Enny.”

Mason raised his eyebrows.

“Enright,” she explained. “Everybody calls him Enny.”

“You think his infidelity may lead to a permanent attachment?”

“Don’t make any mistake, Mr. Mason. The little minx who has her claws in him this time has them way in, and she doesn’t intend to let go.”

“And how does he feel?”

“Completely infatuated, gone, in a swoon. Within the next two or three days he’s going to come to me and make a clean breast of the whole thing. He’s going to tell me that he’s fallen in love, passionately, violently, wildly, that he knows I’m too good a scout to stand in his way. He’ll tell me he’s willing to do the square thing on a property settlement, that he’s perfectly willing to let me save face by going to Reno and getting a Nevada decree. He’ll tell me that if I’ll get my lawyer to meet with his lawyer, they can iron out the property settlement.”

“Then you want me to represent you in that property settlement?” Mason asked.

“Don’t be silly! I want my husband. The minute he comes to me and starts talking about property settlement, I get cast in the role of giving him financial headaches while she gets cast in the role of glamor girl. Then I’m finished. I want to head off that situation.”

“Nip it in the bud?”

“Not the bud. It’s blossomed.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“Cut the stem.”

“I take it you have some plan?” Mason said.

“I have a plan.”

“What is it?”

“My husband is in the real estate business.”

“How old is he?”

“About five years older than I am.”

“You say he’s amassed a lot of property?”

“He’s a gambler, a smart operator, a quick thinker, and ingenious as the devil. You’re going to have to match your wits with him, Mr. Mason, and that’s going to keep even you hustling. If you aren’t very, very careful, he’ll outwit you and leave us holding an empty bag.”

“Assuming,” Mason said, “that I am willing to accept your case.”

“I think you will. I think it will appeal to you.”

“Just what did you have in mind?” Mason asked.

She said, “I want you to buy some stock as an investment.”

“What kind of stock?”

“A real estate development company.”

“And then what?”

“Then,” she said, “I want you to attend the directors’ meeting this afternoon and fail to co-operate.”

“Co-operate with whom?”

“With anybody, with everybody. I want you to be a thorn in the flesh, a monkey wrench in the machinery. I want you to be the nastiest, most technical, most conservative old fuddyduddy in the world.”

“That part hardly fits my character,” Mason said, smiling. “At least I hope it doesn’t.”

“I know,” she said, “but you can start the ball rolling and later on you can get some lawyer to work with you. You know the type I want. One of these fellows who is afraid to make a move in any direction for fear that it may be the wrong direction. He won’t move himself and he gets in a panic if anyone else tries to move.”

“And what do we do after you have achieved that objective?” Mason asked.

“Then we let go.”

“And just how is this going to help you?”

“Right at the moment,” she said, “my husband, Enny, is completely infatuated with this little Roxy girl. Whenever he’s with her he looks into her eyes and talks about sweet nothings. He’s entranced by the color of her hair, the smooth contour of her skin, and he simply loves those great big soulful brown eyes. Fortunately he met Roxy through a business deal. I want that business deal to go sour. Then Roxy’s selfish character will come to the fore. She’ll be the one who is talking about money. She’ll be the one who is talking about business. Every time my husband gets with her she’ll hurry through the affectionate embrace in order to ask him embarrassing questions about business matters.”

“How do you know the questions will be embarrassing?” Mason asked.

“That’s what I’m paying you for.”

“And where will all that leave you?” Mason asked.

“Then,” she said, “I will become the body beautiful while Roxy will be the woman who is giving him financial headaches. I’ll reverse the field on her. Whenever a man starts straying from his home and fireside, there comes a time when he’s more or less equally balanced. He has a sense of obligation to his marriage, the memory of years of companionship on the one hand, and he has the thrill of infatuation and a new conquest on the other. Then the wife throws a tearful scene. She talks about having given him the best years of her life. He sees her tearful, swollen-eyed and wronged. She tries to enmesh him in legal ties. His sense of guilt puts him on the defensive. This is, of course, the very worst thing a wife could possibly do. Instead of emphasizing her feminine charms, she emphasizes his wrongdoing and his legal obligations.”

“Go on,” Mason said, regarding her thoughtfully.

“Then she goes to a lawyer. The lawyer talks about property settlements, about alimony. That completes the alienation. Every time the husband hears his wife’s name, he associates it with financial worries, injunctions, court hearings, alimony pendente lite, and all of that. The other girl furnishes the fun. By that time the man wants his freedom badly enough to pay through the nose. His wife has come to signify a legal headache, impeding his true love for the ‘most wonderful girl in the world’ who is filled with ‘sympathy and understanding’.”

“I see,” Mason said.

“So,” she told him, “as I said before, I want to reverse the field on this woman. Whenever he comes home to me, I’m going to furnish the loving attention, the companionship, the laughter and the play. Whenever he turns to the other girl, he’s going to find himself talking about financial and legal complications. Whenever he thinks of me, the thought will be associated with soft lights and seduction. Whenever he thinks of her, the thought will be associated with liabilities and litigation.”

Mason smiled. “Now that should prove an interesting experiment.”

“Then you’ll help me?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to work fast.”

“How fast?”

“Terribly fast, even for you. You see, he’s getting ready to come to me and face the situation, and today is our fifth wedding anniversary, although the thought hasn’t as yet occurred to him.”

“And you don’t want him to confess his infidelities?” Mason asked.

“Of course not. A woman should never forgive a man for infidelities. She should remain in complete ignorance.”

“Exactly what am I supposed to do?” Mason asked.

She said, “Just pick up that phone. Call Mr. George C. Lutts at the office of the Sylvan Glade Development Company. Give Mr. Lutts your name. Ask him what he will take for the two thousand shares of stock he has in the Sylvan Glade Development Company.”

“And then?” Mason asked.

“Then,” she said, “you accept his offer, whatever it is. Tell him that you will come over immediately, give him a certified check, and pick up the stock. You tell him you want to be present at the directors’ meeting at one-thirty. You ask him to wait in his office until you can get there.”

“That’s hardly the way to buy stock,” Mason said. “His first price will probably be about fifty to seventy-five per cent higher than what he would actually take.”

She shook her head impatiently. “I’m not buying stock. I’m buying a husband.”