The Case of the Shapely Shadow

Chapter Three

Mason, entering the office with the morning newspaper under his arm, grinned at Della Street, tossed his hat onto the bust of Blackstone which frowned austerely from the top of a filing cabinet, said, “What’s new, Della?”

“Your friend, Janice Wainwright, would like to talk with you just as soon as you come in. She seems very upset.”

“Oh, yes,” Mason said, “the letter. What about it? Have we a report on A. B. Vidal?”

“We have not,” Della Street said. “Paul Drake kept two men on the job until the General Delivery window-closed, then he put them on again this morning. He’s been tipped off in confidence that the letter to A. B. Vidal is waiting in General Delivery — an envelope which apparently contains some heavy object, such as a key.”

Mason nodded, said, “Janice leave a telephone number?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t the office number where she works. Shall I call her?”

“Go ahead. Let’s see what she wants.”

A few moments later Della Street nodded to Perry Mason, who picked up the phone and said, “Yes, Miss Wainwright. This is Mason. What’s the trouble?”

“Oh, Mr. Mason,” she said, “I’m so glad you called. Mr. Theilman seems to have disappeared. The police have been asking me questions and I just — well, I didn’t give them any answers that would help. I... I just don’t know what to do.”

“All right,” Mason said, “steady down. Now, let’s get this thing in order. You say he’s disappeared?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Well... of course I don’t know, but his wife does. She notified the police.”

“And what caused her to notify the police?”

“Well, he telephoned from Bakersfield last night. He’d been up there on business. He telephoned about eight o’clock and said she could expect him at eleven or eleven-thirty — just to go to bed and go to sleep, not to wait up for him. Well, when he hadn’t shown up by three, she telephoned the police and asked them to check with the highway patrol and see if there’d been any accident. The police did that and told her that there was none that involved her husband.

“So she was very much relieved and went back to bed and went to sleep. However, at seven o’clock when he hadn’t shown up she became worried again and called the business associate with whom he had been in conference in Bakersfield.”

“Who’s that?” Mason asked.

“Cole B. Troy. He and Mr. Theilman have some business interest together in the vicinity of Bakersfield — some real estate deals they’re putting across.”

“And what did Mr. Troy say?”

“He said Mr. Theilman left about nine o’clock; that he said something about phoning Mrs. Theilman, and had made a call while they were having dinner.”

“And then?” Mason asked.

“Well, then Mrs. Theilman called the police again and when I opened up the office at eight this morning there was a detective there who asked me some questions about whether Mr. Theilman had any appointments this morning, whether I expected him in, and if I knew anything that could have caused him to remain away from home.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Mason said, “that’s just a little unusual. Ordinarily they’d give a wife a little reassurance and wait for a while before they did anything, or simply put out a bulletin on missing persons. Sending a detective to a man’s office isn’t exactly routine procedure. Did he say why he was there?”

“Simply that Mr. Theilman seemed to have disappeared between Bakersfield and his home last night, and they wanted to know something about him.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed. “A plain-clothes officer?”

“That’s right.”

“A detective?”

“That’s what he said.”

“And you haven’t heard anything from Theilman?” Mason asked.

“No.”

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

“Two-thirty yesterday afternoon.”

“And what happened then?”

“He phoned that he wouldn’t be back in the office any more, that he had to drive to Bakersfield, that he was going to be in conference with Cole Troy, that I could reach him there if anything of any great importance turned up, but he didn’t think it would. He thought everything was under control.”

“He’d asked you about the suitcase?”

“Oh, yes, as soon as I got back to the office.”

“And about you leaving it in the locker?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“And he seemed to be somewhat relieved after he found out what you had done?”

“Yes.”

“Now, you didn’t tell him anything about stopping here, or anything about that?”

“Heavens, no! I wouldn’t let him know that for worlds — I can try to protect him, Mr. Mason, but I... well, I simply couldn’t interfere in his business affairs.”

“All right,” Mason said, “be very, very careful that you don’t lie to any officers who ask you questions. Now, that doesn’t mean you have to tell them everything you know. Simply be careful that you don’t lie. Say that you are not in a position to discuss Mr. Theilman’s business affairs, that he left the office early yesterday, and that was the last you saw of him.

“Now, if they ask you if anything unusual happened yesterday, tell them that Mr. Theilman’s business was frequently unusual and there were all sorts of things that happened yesterday, but they are things that you don’t feel free to discuss without his consent.

“Now, remember that. Leave yourself a margin of safety so that if anything happens and you have to testify as to exactly what happened, you don’t make yourself out a liar. Keep in the role of a confidential secretary who is protecting the interests of her employer. You understand that?”

“I understand, Mr. Mason.”

“All right,” Mason told her. “If you hear anything more, ring me up, and if it’s after office hours and this office is closed, ring up the Drake Detective Agency. They have offices here in the building and Paul Drake does my work. Leave a message for Paul Drake.”

“The Drake Detective Agency?”

“That’s right. They have a twenty-four-hour service.”

“Heavens, Mr. Mason, they don’t know anything about... about my coming to see you, do they?”

“No,” Mason said. “They are doing some investigative work for me, that’s all. Now, let me ask you one more thing. Had you ever heard of A. B. Vidal before his name came up in connection with this mysterious business deal?”

“No.”

“Mr. Theilman had never had any dealings with him that you know of?”

“No.”

“All right,” Mason said. “Sit tight and be careful you don’t lie. Where are you now? The number we called isn’t the office number.”

“I know it isn’t. After the officer called, I became panic-stricken. I was afraid to stay there in the office until I’d talked with you. So I closed up the office and hurried back to my apartment.”

“Go back to the office,” Mason instructed. “Act as naturally as possible. Don’t lie to the police. On the other hand, don’t tell them anything about this suitcase or the letter. Tell the police you’ll need specific authorization from your boss before you tell them anything.”

“This detective said Mrs. Theilman had said it would be all right for me to tell them anything I knew — in a business way.”

“Are you working for Mrs. Theilman?”

“No.”

“All right, then. Do as I’ve told you.”

“Yes, Mr. Mason.”

“But don’t lie,” Mason warned again.

Mason dropped the telephone back in the cradle, looked at Della Street thoughtfully, said, “Get Paul Drake for me, Della.”

A few moments later Drake’s code knock sounded on the office door.

“How’s everything coming, Paul?” Mason asked.

“So-so,” Drake said. “We’re sitting on the deal at the post office. There’s a letter there for A. B. Vidal. I guess Della told you. I reported to her.”

“All right,” Mason said. “What do you know about the locker system down at the Union Depot?”

“Quite a bit,” Drake said. “Why?”

“I want to look in a locker.”

“That can be arranged very easily, if all you want to do is look. If you want to search anything that’s on the inside, the situation is different.”

“You know the people that run the lockers?”

“That’s right. They have a troubleshooter and I’ve done him a favor once or twice before.”

“Let’s go take a look,” Mason said, “and I think you’d better come along, Della.”

“What locker do you want to look into?”

“I’ll tell them when I get there,” Mason said. “I just wouldn’t be too surprised, Paul, if— Well, I’m not going to commit myself now. Let’s go.”

“My car or yours?” Drake asked.

“Yours,” Mason said. “I want to think while you drive.”

“I’ll make a phone call first and have this man meet us there,” Drake said. “He’s a good egg.”

“He’ll be there by the time we are?”

“Sure. He’s on the job off and on all the time. He’s a troubleshooter and serviceman.”

“They have a master key that enables them to get into any of those lockers?” Mason asked.

Drake said, “I know they do, but I’ve never gone into details of the modus operandi. I know I can get you a look, however.”

“You do your telephoning,” Mason said, “and we’ll meet you down in the lobby.”

Mason and Della Street took the elevator to the lobby, waited some three minutes before Drake showed up with the announcement that everything was all fixed, that a man by the name of Smith would be waiting for them when they drove up.

They walked through to the parking lot, got in Drake’s car, and Mason was thoughtfully silent during the entire ride to the station.

They parked their car and as they walked toward the main entrance an unobtrusive individual in a gray business suit, whose keen eyes were masked under bushy eyebrows, stepped forward and shook hands with Paul Drake.

Drake said to Mason, “Meet Smitty, Perry. And this is Miss Street, Perry Mason’s confidential secretary.”

Smith shook hands, said, “What numbered locker did you want to look into?”

“FO82,” Mason said.

“Can you tell me why?”

Mason looked the man in the eyes and said, “No.”

Smith grinned, said, “Well, at least that makes it simple. Now, I’ll open that particular locker and look inside, but we’re not going to touch anything that’s in there. Understand?”

“That’s all right,” Mason said. “I want to look, that’s all.”

Smith said, “Wait here a moment. I’ll get the key.”

“They have an office here someplace,” Drake said, as Smith moved away. “Let’s go locate this locker.”

Della Street said, “I can—”

Mason nudged her into silence. “We can look around,” he said, “and get the thing located.”

They walked around the banks of lockers. Della Street, putting her hand on Mason’s arm, exerted an almost imperceptible pressure guiding him to the proper bank.

“Well, here it is, first rattle out of the box,” Mason said, “FO82.”

“The key’s gone,” Drake said. “That means somebody has put a coin in the slot, put something in, taken the key and—”

“Here comes Mr. Smith now,” Della Street said.

Smith said, “Well, I see you folks found it all right. Now, you’ll have to stand back. I have to be sure that you don’t touch anything.”

Mason said, “Mr. Smith, I wonder if you can tell me how these things work. I observe you have a notice on these lockers stating that the storage is only for twenty-four hours and that at the end of that time articles left in the lockers will be removed. Now, how do you measure that twenty-four hours in time?”

“We don’t,” Smith said, grinning.

“Well, what do you do?” Drake asked.

“We approximate it,” Smith said. “What the average person doesn’t notice is this little meter that’s up here. Now, for instance, the number two-eight-four is on that meter. It’s very small and cunningly concealed so you wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking for it.

“That number two-eight-four means that two hundred and eighty-four quarters have been dropped into this slot since this particular lock was put on.

“Every night around eleven o’clock an attendant comes down here and checks the number of the locker and the number on the meter and writes the numbers down.

“Now, tomorrow night at eleven o’clock, if this man comes down and notices that the number is still two-eight-four, he’ll know that somebody has kept that locker inactive for twenty-four hours, that he’s put something in it and has walked away with the key.

“Quite naturally the company doesn’t want to have people use these as a permanent storage place for articles. We get quite a turnover on these. Some of them are used a good many times a day. It costs money to rent the space, it costs money to keep the lockers up.”

“Go on,” Mason said. “What happens?”

“Well, if this man checks this number and finds that the same number is on here that was on twenty-four hours previously, he opens the locker.”

“How does he do that?” Mason asked.

“He takes the entire lock off.”

“While the locker is closed and locked?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“How can he do that?”

Smith said to Paul Drake, “I take it you folks want to look in here.”

“That’s right, Smitty.”

“Well, I’m going to take a look in but I don’t want anybody touching anything. Understand?”

Drake nodded.

Smith turned to Mason inquiringly.

“That’s okay with me,” Mason said.

“Now,” Smith said, “here’s the way we change the lock.”

He took a passkey from his pocket, turned up a circular metal shield which was at the top end of the lock, inserted the passkey, and said, “This removes the entire lock. Now, if we find that someone has used these lockers more than twenty-four hours, of course that person has the key with him and we want to put this locker back into operation. So we simply remove the entire lock and put in a new lock with the key in it. We take the baggage out and leave it where the applicant can claim it by properly identifying it. Then the locker is back in service because there’s a new lock and the key is in it, and whoever wants to use it can do so by simply depositing twenty-five cents, putting his baggage in, taking the key out, and his baggage is reasonably safe until he wants to come back.”

“Sounds interesting,” Mason said. “You’re now going to remove this lock?”

“I’m going to remove the lock,” Smith said.

He turned the passkey. There was an audible click, and Smith lifted out the entire lock, sliding it off the catch on the door as he did so and letting the door swing free.

“Well, you see,” he said, “we have here an unusual situation. Usually when a person has left with the key, there’s baggage in here, but this time someone has gone away with the key and the locker is empty.”

“Empty!” Mason exclaimed.

“That’s right,” Smith said, pulling the door all the way back.

Mason, Paul Drake and Della Street peered inside.

“Now, how could that have happened?” Mason asked.

“Only one way,” Smith said. “The man had the key. He came back, put the key in the locker, opened it, took out whatever was inside, then put in another quarter, locked the thing up and took the key with him.”

“Why would he do that?” Mason asked.

“All right,” Smith said, grinning, “I’ll counter with another question. Why are you interested in this particular locker?”

Mason smiled. “I guess you’ve established your point, Smith.”

“Looks like I have,” Smith said. “I’ll just put a new lock on here and we’ll put this locker back into operation. When this man shows up with his key, he’ll find that it doesn’t fit the lock that’s on the door. He’ll fool around for four or five minutes trying to make the key fit. He’ll look at the number on the key and the number on the locker and scratch his head and walk around and try it a couple more times, then he’ll go to the station-master to try and find out what’s wrong.”

“Not this man,” Mason said. “I think that key is permanently out of circulation.”

“Well, it’s okay with me,” Smith said. “We’ve got a duplicate key. We’ll put that lock back in service on another locker.”

Mason said, “You’ve been of great service to us. Would a little folding compensation by way of thanks be out of place?”

“Forget it,” Smith said. “I’m glad to do it as an accommodation to Paul Drake. He’s helped us out a time or two. Anything else I can do for you people?”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

Smith shook hands. “Mighty glad to have met you, Mr. Mason. Any time I can do you any good down here, let me know.”

He turned to Drake, said, “Okay, Paul, be seeing you.”

“Thanks, Smitty,” Paul said, and led the way toward the parking lot where he had left his car.

On the way back to the office Drake said, “Now I suppose that this A. B. Vidal becomes very important and you’ll want to have me take extra precautions to—”

“On the contrary,” Mason said, “A. B. Vidal is out of the picture as far as we’re concerned.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never existed,” Mason said.

“There’s a letter for him there,” Drake reminded the lawyer.

“I know there is,” Mason said, “but you can see what happened. This man, whoever he was — and we’ll call him Vidal for want of a better name — went to this row of lockers. He put twenty-five cents in each of five lockers, took the keys out and had duplicates made. Then he came back and put the keys in the locks and left them.

“He waited somewhere in the station until he saw someone put the package that he wanted in that particular locker. He had instructed that person to take the key out and mail it to A. B. Vidal at General Delivery. That was just a blind, something to throw people off the track.

“Just as soon as this person was out of the station, Mr. Vidal walked up to the locker, fitted his duplicate key, opened it, took the package out, then put in another quarter and closed the door and locked it. In that way he was able to take his key with him. He’s got possession of the package he wanted, and left no trace.”

“But what would have happened if some innocent traveler had come up and put a suitcase in that particular locker?” Drake asked.

“Vidal had thought of that. He had keys to the four adjacent lockers. He gave his party instructions to go to FO82 if it was unoccupied. Otherwise, to take any unoccupied locker to the left on the same tier... You can see what happened. He had keys to all of those.”

“I take it,” Drake said, “there’s quite a story here and you’re dealing with someone who has a lot of brains and a carefully worked-out plan.”

“You’re right on everything except there being quite a story,” Mason said. “There isn’t any story. So far there’s only a chapter.”

“And I’m to call off my men at the post office?”

“That’s right.”

“Remember this,” Drake said, “the postal inspector knows that we were interested in a letter sent to A. B. Vidal at General Delivery.”

Mason thoughtfully digested that information, then said, “Well, we can’t help it now, Paul. Just call your men off and tell the postal inspector that you’ve changed your mind about being interested in the Vidal letter.”

Della Street said, “It seems a shame, since Mr. Smith was so nice, that we can’t tell him that all he needs to do is to go to the post office and ask for a letter addressed to A. B. Vidal at General Delivery. He can tell them he’s Mr. Vidal and they’ll give him the letter and then he’ll have his key back.”

“That’s right,” Mason said.

“What’s right?” Paul asked, glancing suspiciously at Perry Mason.

“It’s a shame that we can’t tell him,” Mason said dryly.