The Case of the Reluctant Model

Chapter Nineteen

Back in Mason’s office the lawyer settled back into the cushioned swivel chair, stretched his arms above his head, heaved a deep sigh and grinned.

“When you can take a gamble like that and come out, it’s really something,” he said.

“What do you mean you’ve come out?” Drake said. “You’ve just postponed the evil day of reckoning for a few hours. Tomorrow at nine-thirty you’ll have to go back and face the same old situation.”

“Oh, no, I won’t,” Mason said.

“What makes you think you won’t?”

“In the first place,” Mason said, “the word got around the courthouse that I was going to put the defendant on the stand in a preliminary hearing. That brought our old friend, Hamilton Burger, in for the kill.

“The fact that Hamilton Burger was coming in for the kill caused all the newspaper reporters to attend the trial in order to see the showdown.”

“Well,” Drake said, “since the showdown was postponed until tomorrow, the reporters will be there tomorrow and your client will be cross-examined and Hamilton Burger will want to know what it was Durant had on her that forced her to obey his wishes, and ask her if it is true that she would betray her friendships in order to save her own bacon; ask her if she didn’t know she was participating in a swindling game, ask her if she didn’t betray Rankin’s friendship — he’ll rip her to pieces.”

Mason said, “I have news for you, Paul. There isn’t going to be any tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s look at it logically. The whole thing snapped into shape as soon as I knew that Collin Durant didn’t order that forged painting and that Goring Gilbert had never delivered it.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Everything.”

“All right,” Drake said. “It was a skin game of some sort. Now, what was it?”

“It was an interesting skin game,” Mason said, “but the person who ordered the forged painting and paid for it is the one who holds the key to the whole situation.”

“Who paid for the forged painting?” Drake asked.

Mason smiled and shook his head. “We don’t know — yet.”

“He’s being mysterious, Paul,” Della Street said. “He’s going to play you like a trout. He’ll have your curiosity aroused to fever pitch before he’ll let you off the hook.”

“I’m at fever pitch now,” Drake said, “and I don’t get it.”

“All the factors are there,” Mason said. “The painting was forged. It cost two thousand dollars. It was never delivered. The money was paid in hundred-dollar bills. Collin Durant had ten thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills and got murdered.

“And I have a legal bombshell I can explode any minute now. I was tempted to do it today but I held my fire so I could make a big play on it.”

“What’s the bombshell?” Drake asked. “At least you can tell me that.”

“Finding the gun in the locker,” Mason said.

“Why, that clinches the case against Maxine,” Drake said. “Those unidentified fingerprints aren’t going to help. They could have been made at any time, either before or after.”

Mason smiled. “Everyone has overlooked it,” he said.

“Overlooked what?”

“The lockers were serviced every twenty-four hours. Whenever they were inactive for any twenty-four-hour period they were opened. This locker had its twenty-four-hour inactive check on the evening of the fifteenth. Therefore, it was from the fourteenth to the fifteenth on which it was inactive. The gun had to be placed in it not on the thirteenth but on the fourteenth.

“That means the murderer planted the gun there after it became apparent Maxine had been seen there. The gun was planted after Maxine had left this part of the state, yet it was the murder weapon and, therefore, must have been left there by the real murderer.”

Drake’s eyes widened.

“Well, I’ll be a—”

The telephone rang sharply.

Della Street picked it up, said, “Yes, Gertie. What is it?... Oh-oh... Just a minute.”

Della Street turned to Perry Mason. “Mr. Otto Olney is in the outer office and Gertie says he’s mad. He’s waving that subpoena around and wants to know what the devil you mean by serving a subpoena on him, that he has to be in Honolulu tomorrow.”

“Well,” Mason said, “I guess we’ll have to talk with him, but tell Gertie I’ll see him within two to five minutes at the outside.”

Della Street relayed the message to Gertie.

“Can’t you get in trouble serving a subpoena on a big businessman like that when you don’t know exactly what you’re going to ask him?”

“I know what I’m going to ask him,” Mason said. “Get Lieutenant Tragg at Homicide for me, will you, Della?”

Della Street put through the call and a moment later said, “Here’s Lieutenant Tragg on the line.”

“Hello, Lieutenant,” Mason said. “How’s everything coming?”

“Coming very good indeed as far as we’re concerned,” Tragg said cheerfully. “I was sorry to see you put the defendant on the stand in a preliminary case like this, Mason.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s causing a lot of comment and I guess you probably realize that virtually none of it is favorable.”

“That’s all right,” Mason said. “I know you don’t like to see me get in bad.”

“Actually I don’t, Perry. You and I are pretty good friends, despite the fact we keep on the opposite side of the fence a good deal of the time.”

“Well,” Mason said, “just in order to cement our friendship still further, I’d like to tell you who killed Collin Durant.”

“I think I already know,” Tragg said. “I’m quite sure Hamilton Burger knows, and I think it’s quite probable that Judge Madison knows.”

“Do you want to get a confession?”

“A confession would help things very much indeed,” Tragg said. “What are you going to do, plead her guilty?”

“I don’t know,” Mason said, “but if you’ll get up to my office right away, I’ll give the matter some consideration. I have one client I’ve got to dispose of and then I’ll be willing to give you all the help I can.”

“That’s mighty nice of you,” Tragg said. “I’ll be up.”

“Now, don’t misunderstand me,” Mason said. “I said right away.”

“What do you mean by right away?”

“I mean right away.”

“Is it that important?”

“It’s that important,” Mason said. “Get up here!”

The lawyer hung up the phone, grinned at the perturbed detective, said, “Go to your office, Paul. I’ll call you when I need you.”

He waited until Drake had left by the exit door, then said to Della, “Ask Otto Olney to come in, if you will, please.”

Della Street went to the outer office and a moment later stepped to one side as the angry Olney strode past her.

“Look here, Mason, what the devil’s the idea of serving a subpoena on me in that murder case?” Olney asked.

“Frankly, I don’t think Maxine did it. I’d like to see her beat the rap. When the case comes to trial in the Superior Court I’m going to check everything carefully and see if I know anything or if there’s anything I can do, but I certainly am not going to perjure myself and I’m not going to go traipsing down to some little inferior court that doesn’t have any discretion in the matter and make a spectacle out of myself trying to stick up for an artist’s model.

“And remember, if you put any witnesses on the stand to testify on her behalf, the district attorney is just going to ask them if they ever saw her with her clothes off — and because she was an artist’s model—”

“Did you ever see her with her clothes off?” Mason asked.

Olney said, “As a matter of fact, I think I did, and damn it, Mason, that’s not fair! My wife is very much— Well, this is a critical time for her and she’s inclined to be... well, insanely jealous.”

“Of course,” Mason said, “I wouldn’t want to cause any domestic discord.”

“I’m satisfied you wouldn’t and I— Well, my lawyer, young Hollister at Warton, Warton, Cosgrove and Hollister, was pretty much worked up about this. He wanted me to go to court and claim that you’d been abusing the process of the court and a lot of things like that.

“Well, I just told him, nonsense. I said Mason’s a reasonable man, he’s got some grounds for what he wants to do, and I’m going up and see him and have a talk with him. I’ll find out what it is he wants and I’ll find out if there isn’t some way we can help him.”

“Well,” Mason said, “suppose you tell me just what you want.”

“I want to know what I can do to help you,” Olney said, “and then I want you to give me a letter to the effect that you’re releasing me from attendance on the court. For your information, I’m leaving for Honolulu on the ten o’clock plane tonight and then I may have to go on to the Orient.”

Mason looked at his watch, said, “I’m expecting a visitor momentarily, Mr. Olney. I’ll hurry right along with this.

“Della, will you take this in shorthand, please?”

Della Street picked up her shorthand notebook.

“A letter to Otto Olney, Esquire, with a copy to Judge Madison and a copy to Hollister of Warton, Warton, Cosgrove and Hollister. ‘Dear Mr. Olney: Upon receipt of your assurance this afternoon that you knew nothing about the case, nothing about the false Phellipe Feteet painting, that you didn’t know Goring Gilbert, who was painting the copy, knew nothing about the copy being painted, and had no business contacts with Collin Durant, I have agreed to release you from attendance in court tomorrow in the case of People versus Maxine Lindsay, and agree to recall the subpoena which has been served on you and permit you to leave the jurisdiction of the court.’ ”

Mason hesitated a minute, said, “I think that covers it, doesn’t it, Olney? I’d like to have you ask Hollister over to check it.”

“I think it covers the situation,” Olney said. “There’s no need for Hollister, and I want to apologize to you, Mr. Mason, for flying off the handle a little. I guess I... well, I got a little worked up about it.”

“That’s all right,” Mason said, “and Della, you probably had better put a little note at the bottom of that to be signed by Mr. Olney, stating quote, I assure you that the facts mentioned by you in the letter are correct and that I have given you my assurance I have no knowledge of any of the matters mentioned.”

Mason hesitated a moment, then said, “I think that covers it. Make a blank for Mr. Olney to sign, type the words ‘Otto Olney’ underneath the blank, and I guess that’s all. Can you get that letter out right away?”

“Within a very few minutes,” Della Street said, watching Mason’s face curiously to see if he was giving her some signal.

Mason, completely poker-faced, nodded. “Go right ahead, Della.”

Della looked from Mason to Olney. Mason took out his cigarette case, said, “Want to smoke, Mr. Olney?”

“No, thank you,” Olney said. “I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a lot of things to do— Oh, I suppose you want me to sign that letter and I suppose I should have that letter in my possession in case anything is said about my disregarding the subpoena.”

“Yes. You’ll have to wait for it,” Mason said. “But it will only be a few minutes. Don’t you think you’d better check with Hollister?”

Olney looked at his watch, started to say something, changed his mind, settled back in the chair and said, “No need to bother Hollister. I’ll handle this. All of this has, of course, come as a terrific shock to me. I put great value on that Phellipe Feteet painting. I have instructed Rankin to buy more of them if he can find them at anything like a reasonable price. I’m telling you that in confidence, Mr. Mason, it’s not to be given to the press.”

“I understand,” Mason said.

“I’m a nut on Phellipe Feteet,” Olney confessed. “I wouldn’t take a hundred thousand for that one painting I have and I’ll pay up to thirty thousand for any more.”

Mason said, “This man Goring Gilbert is quite a character. The man has a remarkable amount of ability. He’s made a copy of your Phellipe Feteet that is really remarkable.”

Olney said, “I’d like to correct you on one thing, if I might, Mr. Mason. It isn’t a copy, it’s a forgery.”

“Wouldn’t it be difficult to make a forgery of that sort from memory?” Mason asked.

“I assume that it would. I suppose, however, that there are colored photographs available of the painting. After all, it had had two prior owners before I purchased it.”

“I assume so,” Mason said, “but it certainly takes a high degree of skill to copy a painting of that sort, no matter how it’s done.”

“I most certainly agree with you on that,” Olney said.

Della Street returned with the letter.

Mason looked at it, passed it across to Olney and said, “Sign right there, if you will, Mr. Olney.”

Olney signed.

Mason said, “I think, Della, that in order to satisfy the Court in this matter it would be a good plan to have Mr. Olney swear — just hold up your right hand and swear that the facts contained in that letter are true, Mr. Olney. Della Street is a notary public.”

Olney said, “Now, wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about swearing.”

“It’s just a formality,” Mason said. “I think you’d better just put a notarial certificate on there, Della, and Mr. Olney, if you’ll hold up your right hand—”

Olney said, “I don’t sign anything under oath without consulting my attorney.”

“What’s the difference between making a statement to me,” Mason asked, “and swearing to it?”

“You know what the difference is.”

“Well, that statement is correct, isn’t it?” Mason asked.

Olney said, “I’ve told you my position, Mr. Mason. Right now I’m not certain that I understand yours and if I do understand it, I’m not certain I appreciate it.”

“Well, if you don’t appreciate it, perhaps you don’t understand it,” Mason said. “By the way, I’m trying to find out where Durant got those one-hundred-dollar bills. You know, a man can’t just pick up a lot of one-hundred-dollar bills by walking into some place of business and asking to cash a check, and those bills must have come from a bank.”

“I would assume so,” Olney said, his eyes studying Mason with sudden wariness.

“I’ll tell you what,” Mason said. “You can make an affidavit for me and I’ll use that affidavit to present to the Court tomorrow, an affidavit that you know nothing whatever about the case, that you didn’t give Durant any one-hundred-dollar bills, that you didn’t—”

“Who says I didn’t give him any hundred-dollar bills?” Olney asked suddenly.

“Why, you mentioned in the letter there that you didn’t have any business transactions with him.”

“Well, that doesn’t— Well, I didn’t, but— Well, I could have loaned the man money.”

“Did you?” Mason asked.

“I think that’s a matter I don’t care to discuss at the moment, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Gosh, Olney, I’m sorry. If you gave him any money in the form of hundred-dollar bills, you’re going to have to go to court tomorrow.”

Olney said, “Now, wait a minute, Mason. You told me I didn’t have to go to court.”

“Predicated on your assurance that you knew nothing about the matter and had had no business transactions with Durant,” Mason said.

The door from the outer office opened, and Lt. Tragg came bustling in. “All right, Perry,” he said. “You told me to get here and I got here. I had to violate a few police regulations in regard to code one and the use of siren and red spotlight in order to do it, but here I am.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Mason said. “You know Mr. Olney, Lieutenant Tragg?”

“I know him,” Tragg said.

“Olney has just told me,” Mason said, “that he loaned Durant some money in the form of hundred-dollar bills. How much was it, Mr. Olney?”

Olney said, “Now wait a minute. What is this? I’m not going to be interrogated here, and furthermore I didn’t tell you any such thing.”

“I certainly understood you to say that you had given Durant some one-hundred-dollar bills,” Mason said.

“I said I could have. I could have advanced the man some money. I could have cashed a check.”

“Did you?” Mason asked, catching Lt. Tragg’s eye.

“Actually I... I felt sorry for the guy and it’s for that reason that I was so absolutely astounded when he made that statement disparaging the authenticity of my Phellipe Feteet painting. That’s one of the most prized paintings in my entire collection.”

“Then may I ask just how much money you gave him from time to time and when you gave it to him?”

“You may not,” Olney said, “and the more I see of your attitude, Mr. Mason, the more I realize that I made a mistake in trusting you and coming here without my attorney. I’m going to call my lawyer and—”

“Now, just a minute,” Lt. Tragg interrupted. “If you’re not going to tell Mr. Mason about this, you’d better tell me. Durant had ten thousand dollars, or just about ten thousand dollars, on him when he was found dead. Now, how much of that came from you?”

Olney said, “Who said any of it came from me?”

“Nobody said that,” Tragg said. “I’m asking you how much of it came from you. Now be careful what you say. This is a murder case, Olney.”

“You have no right to get me up here and start badgering me.”

“I’m not badgering you,” Tragg said, “I’m investigating a murder case. I’m asking a question. I didn’t get you up here. You came up here.”

“Well, your question is one I don’t intend to answer. Not that I have anything to conceal, but I have some complicated business transactions and I just have a general understanding that I won’t do anything without my attorney.”

“Then you’d better telephone your attorney and ask him to come over here,” Mason said. “Miss Street can do it for you. Della, will you ring up Mr. Hollister and tell him that Olney would like to have him over here?”

“Don’t do it,” Olney said. “I don’t want him over here. I’m going over there. I’m going to talk with him before I say anything to anybody.”

“That Feteet was the prize of your collection?” Mason asked.

“It certainly was.”

“And how did it happen that you didn’t miss it for the week it was gone from the yacht, during which Goring Gilbert was copying It down in his studio?”

“Who said it was missing from the yacht?”

“It had to be,” Mason said.

Tragg said, “I’m interested in knowing how much of the money that Durant had on him came from you, and with all due deference to your position, Mr. Olney, I intend to find out before you leave this office.”

“Well, I don’t have to tell you anything before I leave this office.”

“No, you don’t,” Tragg said, “but if you don’t, it’s rather a suspicious circumstance.”

“What’s suspicious about it?”

“Why should you give him ten thousand dollars?” Tragg asked. “Was he blackmailing you?”

“What do you mean?” Olney asked.

Mason said, “Tragg, you might ask him if it isn’t true that he commissioned Gilbert to make a copy of the Phellipe Feteet painting.”

“Why should I want anyone to make a copy of my painting?” Olney asked.

“Probably,” Mason said, “because you were in domestic difficulties, knew that your wife was planning to file suit for divorce, and you intended to make certain she didn’t get your most cherished painting.”

Olney said, “Do you realize what you’re saying? Do you realize that you have accused me of—”

“Exactly,” Mason said, “and if you don’t tell the complete story you’re apt to find yourself accused of murder. Lieutenant Tragg wasn’t born yesterday. And I served a subpoena on your wife a short time ago.”

Olney’s face turned white. “You subpoenaed my wife in this case?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my God!” Olney exclaimed. “Now the fat will be in the fire!”

Mason glanced at Tragg, said, “On the day of his murder, Collin Durant didn’t have any funds at all at about six o’clock in the evening. By the time of his death, probably around eight o’clock in the evening, he had ten thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills, Banks weren’t open at that time. Now, you just tell us whether you gave him those one-hundred hundred-dollar bills.”

“Yes,” Lt. Tragg said, “I think that will be a very good starting point.”

Olney got to his feet, stood for a moment, then said, “I am going to see my attorney.”

“I beg your pardon,” Tragg said, “you’re not going anywhere. You’re going to police headquarters with me if you aren’t going to answer that question. I’m making it official now. I’m asking you if Durant got that money from you.”

“Yes,” Olney said at length. “He got it from me.”

“Now, that’s better,” Tragg said. “When did he get it?”

“He got it about seven-forty-five.”

“And why did he get it?”

“He told me if he had the money he could... well, he could get Maxine Lindsay to disappear.”

“And why did you want her to disappear?”

“Because I couldn’t afford to go ahead with the lawsuit I’d filed over that damned phoney painting and I couldn’t afford to back up on it.”

“Now then,” Tragg said, “you’re beginning to make a little sense. So you saw Durant at seven-forty-five?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In front of the apartment house where Maxine Lindsay lived.”

“Then,” Mason said, smiling at Lt. Tragg, “so far as is known, Olney, you were the last person to see Durant alive, because Maxine Lindsay has a perfect alibi from seven-forty-five. She was at the bus terminal at eight o’clock.”

“You don’t know what she did after that,” Olney said defiantly. “The medical testimony is that Durant could have been killed any time up to eight-twenty.”

“I think you’d better tell us about what you did,” Lt. Tragg said. “It might be a lot better that way, Mr. Olney.”

“All right,” Olney said. “I knew that I was coming to a showdown with my wife. She had all the evidence for a divorce. I didn’t have any. I knew that she was going to strip me of my property — as much as she could.

“For some years I had been setting aside a cash reserve fund. I had nearly a quarter of a million dollars in safety deposit boxes that no one knew anything about. This money was in the form of hundred-dollar bills.

“Mason is correct. I wanted to keep my Phellipe Feteet.

“I guess I better put my cards right on the table with you gentlemen. It’s my only chance now.

“I was in love. I’ve been in love for some time. My wife knew what was going on. She wouldn’t give me a divorce. On the other hand, she used the power that the law gave her to hold a sword over my head. She wanted an absolutely impossible settlement. She wanted this settlement not to take care of herself, but to cause me the most suffering possible.

“She was threatening to file suit for separate maintenance, but not to file suit for divorce, not to give me my freedom. She was going to hold me in an impossible situation.

“I made up my mind that I’d try and buy her off, if I could. I was willing to pay through the nose. Now, damn it, this is all highly confidential. Only my attorneys know anything about these negotiations.”

“Go ahead,” Tragg said. “You’re mixed up in a murder case now. You’d better come clean.”

“Well, I made up my mind that my wife was not going to get that particular painting, so I inquired around and found that there was a young man who was an expert at copying paintings. He could make forgeries that couldn’t be told from the work of famous painters. He could copy every style of painting, and he could copy an original painting so that it was virtually impossible to tell the original and the copy apart.”

“That man was Goring Gilbert?” Tragg asked.

“I don’t know who he was,” Olney said, “but I assume it was. I hired a go-between because I couldn’t afford to be identified with what was happening. This person made arrangements to have the painting copied. I paid two thousand dollars cash in hundred-dollar bills.”

“To Gilbert?” Mason asked.

“No, to the go-between.”

“That was Durant?” Tragg asked.

“It very definitely was not Durant. I wouldn’t have touched Durant with a ten-foot pole. He was a slimy double-crosser. I wouldn’t have put myself in his power for a minute.”

“Then how did it happen you gave Durant money?” Tragg asked.

“Because I walked into a trap. The first thing I knew, Durant had made this statement that my painting was a phoney. I got mad and made up my mind I’d teach him a lesson. Also, this was my chance to have my painting adjudged genuine. Then I could substitute the copy after I had established the authenticity of the original. So I just broke right into print and branded Durant a liar.

“Evidently that was exactly what he’d been waiting for. He showed up on the thirteenth and told me that he was going to subpoena Goring Gilbert, that he was going to claim I had commissioned Gilbert to make a copy of the painting, and that the copy was the one that was hanging in my yacht on the afternoon that he’d made the statement the painting was a forgery.

“Good heavens, I couldn’t have that! My wife would have found out what was going on and the fat would have been in the fire. All right, I paid off. I paid through the nose. I gave that slimy, blackmailing upstart eleven thousand dollars.”

“Why eleven thousand dollars?” Mason asked.

“That was the price he demanded.”

“And when and where did you give it to him?”

“I met him in front of the apartment house which he designated and which I now know as the apartment house where Maxine lived. He said he had to give a part of the money to Maxine in order to keep the case from coming to a conclusion. He promised me that he’d see that she got out of town without making any statement. Then I could just fail to press the case and the matter would be closed.

“I distrusted Durant. I had a witness with me.”

“Let’s find out exactly what happened,” Mason said. “You met Durant in front of the apartment house?”

“Yes.”

“And you weren’t alone?”

“No.”

“You paid him the money?”

“Not in front of the apartment house, no.”

“Where?”

“In Maxine’s apartment.”

“You went up there?”

“Yes.”

“Who was with you?”

“This— A young lady was with me.”

“And you went up to Maxine’s apartment?”

“Yes. He said he was going to give her money to get out of the state so she wouldn’t be making any more statements and so you couldn’t locate her. I didn’t trust Durant for a minute. I went along to make sure he did what he said he was going to do.”

“You knocked on the door?”

“No, Durant had a key.”

“And what happened?”

“Maxine wasn’t there. He said that he had hoped to catch her there before she went out.”

“What time was this?”

“Quarter to eight.”

“And what did you do?”

“I couldn’t wait there for her to come back. I paid him the money — eleven thousand dollars. I had no other alternative.”

“That’s an odd figure,” Mason said. “Why the eleven thousand?”

“He told me he’d borrowed a thousand dollars and that he’d have to give that money back in order to make things safe for all concerned; that he’d give Maxine money to travel with and then he’d let me dismiss the suit against him with prejudice and he’d see that Maxine said nothing to anyone.”

“So the three of you were in Maxine’s apartment?”

“Yes.”

“And then what happened?”

“He remained there. We left. We went down to our car and drove several blocks and then this young woman who was with me remembered that she had left her purse. It was in the apartment. So she went back up to the apartment.”

“Go on,” Tragg said.

“When she got there she found the door partially open. She went in. Durant was dead. He was lying just as you found him. She was in a panic and opened the door to run and then saw that this nosy neighbor was standing in the hall. As it turns out, this woman was waiting for her boy friend to come up in the elevator, but the young woman in question thought that she had heard something which had aroused her suspicions and was watching the Lindsay apartment and was about to call the police.”

“So what did she do?” Tragg asked.

“She did the only obvious thing she could think of. She’s about the same size and build as Maxine. She dashed to the closet, found a voluminous, distinctive tweed coat, put it on, grabbed the canary and a package of birdseed, which was all tied up by the cage as though Maxine had been expecting someone to come and get the canary, and got out of the apartment, backing out so that she kept her back turned toward the woman in the hall, and hurried down to the stairs.

“Then she joined me.”

Mason took a piece of paper, wrote on it.

Tragg said, “All right, who’s the young woman?”

Olney shook his head. “Tragg,” he said, “I’ll go to prison, or anything else, but I’m not going to bring her into it.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Tragg said. “Don’t you realize this woman is the person who killed Durant? That is, if your story is true.”

“Nonsense!” Olney snapped. “She wouldn’t kill anyone — and she wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Don’t make a fool of yourself,” Tragg said. “This is murder. You can’t be like that.”

“I am like that, and I’m going to be like that,” Olney said.

Mason pushed the pad of paper, on which he had been writing, in front of Olney.

Olney took a look at the paper, then glared at Mason, but before he could say anything Mason said, “Let’s use our heads on this, Tragg. Durant had been doing business with Goring Gilbert. Durant had a bill at a paint store. He paid off that bill using hundred-dollar bills.

“That was shortly after the time Gilbert had received a fee in hundred-dollar bills from Olney’s representative for making that false Feteet.

“Durant told Olney he had borrowed a thousand dollars and he’d have to repay that money. He must have borrowed that thousand from Gilbert.

“Now then, Olney paid Durant eleven thousand dollars. When they found Durant’s body, he had ten thousand dollars on him. What happened to the extra thousand?”

“All right,” Tragg said, “you’re masterminding this. What do you think happened to it?”

“The murderer took it,” Mason said. “The murderer was someone to whom Durant had a moral obligation to pay one thousand dollars. The murderer took the money. He didn’t touch any more. The murderer was Goring Gilbert.”

“How did the murderer get in?” Tragg asked.

“Durant let him in,” Mason said. “Gilbert was looking for Durant. He had reason to believe he’d find him at Maxine’s apartment.

“Durant had put the first bite on Olney. From then on he intended to blackmail him as long as Olney’s domestic affairs were in such a shape that he could.

“Gilbert didn’t like the idea of Durant using the knowledge he had about the false Feteet to blackmail Olney. He just wasn’t going to stand for it.”

“How did Gilbert know about the blackmail?” Tragg asked.

“The same way he knew he’d find Durant in Maxine’s apartment. Olney’s friend arranged with Gilbert to copy the painting. When Durant put the bite on Olney, she phoned Gilbert and accused him of being in on the deal and told him Olney was to pay Durant eleven thousand dollars in front of Maxine’s apartment house at seven-forty-five.

“Gilbert assured her this was all news to him. He knew Durant had seen the Feteet copy, but had no idea Durant was going to blackmail Olney. So Gilbert drove to a place in front of the apartment house where he could see for himself.

“When Olney and his friend left, Gilbert went up to have an accounting with Durant. Durant was such a cheap chiseler he had even swindled Maxine out of her get-away money, telling her to be out of the place by seven, then telling Olney to be there at seven-forty-five.”

Tragg snapped his fingers.

“Get it?” Mason asked.

“I’ve got it,” Tragg said, getting to his feet.

He turned to Olney. “You’re coming with me, Olney,” he said. “I think this may get all straightened out, but until we get a confession you’re a prime witness.”

Olney hesitated a moment, then said, “Very well, I’ll go with you. I’m satisfied it was Goring Gilbert. Durant had known he was copying the painting and had put two and two together, and that’s why he rigged up this whole skin game so that I’d file suit against him.”

“You want to come, Mason?” Tragg asked. “We could use a witness.”

“You’re doing fine,” Mason said. “Go right ahead.”

Mason got up and escorted Tragg to the door. As he did so, Della Street picked up the paper on which Mason had written the name he had shown Olney — Corliss Kenner.

Della Street took Mason’s desk lighter, snapped it into flame and burnt the paper.

Mason returned from the door. “Well,” he said, “that’s that.”

“You think he’ll get a confession out of Gilbert?” Della Street asked.

Mason said, “Della, don’t ever discount the police. Once they get on the right trail they’ll dig up what evidence they need. Remember the unidentified fingerprint on that locker. That, very definitely, would have been the fingerprint of Goring Gilbert...”

“I can see now it had to be Gilbert,” she said. “When he was paid for the picture, Durant was broke. Gilbert loaned him a thousand. Durant worked out the blackmailing game. Gilbert didn’t like that... How did he get Maxine’s gun, Chief?”

“He found it,” Mason said. “When he got into the apartment he went to the dresser to see if Maxine was in on the play and had left any incriminating evidence in the drawer. It was at that exact moment Durant started wondering if Olney had planned a trap and looked in the shower to see if a witness had been planted there.

“Gilbert found the gun — the temptation was too great. He despised Durant... If he’d taken the whole eleven thousand it wouldn’t have been such a giveaway. As it was, he took only the one thousand, thereby leaving a broad trail — to wit, the murderer didn’t care much about money but was someone to whom Durant was indebted to the tune of an even thousand dollars.”

Della Street thought that over. “And the hold Durant had on Maxine?”

“Durant,” Mason said, “was the father of the child Maxine’s sister had given birth to while the husband was overseas. Durant didn’t care who knew it. Maxine did.”

Della Street nodded. “I see now — and your fee?”

Mason grinned. “You can send Howell’s check back to him, Della. I think Olney will quite probably loan Maxine all she needs to cover costs.” Then after a moment he added, “All costs.”