The Case of the Sleepwalker's Niece

Chapter 20

MASON, pacing back and forth across his office, looked frowningly at Della Street. The indirect lights failed to soften the scowl lines which were furrowed across the lawyer’s forehead. “Damn it, Della,” he said, “the thing doesn’t click.”

“Why doesn’t it click?”

“I can’t understand what’s wrong with Mrs. Kent.”

“You haven’t heard anything from her?”

“Not a thing. You’re certain that Pritchard met her?”

“Absolutely. He was making a rush play for me, but he dropped me like a hot potato when I told him about Mrs. Kent’s money.”

“Good looking?”

“I’ll say.”

“Make your heart go pittypat?” he asked.

“Not mine, but he’s a swell looker. He looks like a Venus de Hollywood.”

“Hair?”

“Wonderful, dark rich brown, beautifully marcelled. Lights in it. And they match his eyes. Boyish face, without a line in it. A little trick mustache. He wears his clothes nicely and his lips are fascinating, particularly when he talks. You can see them forming every word so distinctly. And when he dances, he makes you feel like thistledown.”

“She seemed to be falling?”

“Falling is right. She was looking at him with her heart in her eyes.”

“How the devil can a woman get her heart in her eyes?”

“Want me to show you?” she challenged. He took a quick step toward her. Her eyes studied his face appraisingly, “Strictly for the sake of the business?” she added.

His arm was reaching for her when knuckles made a gentle tapping motion on the corridor door. Mason froze into rigid immobility. The knock was repeated. “Bet you five bucks that’s Doris Sully Kent,” he said.

Della Street started for the law library. “I knew something would happen,” she remarked, jerking the door open. “Be sure to switch on the loud speaker, Chief. I’ve got pencils and notebook in there.” She closed the door behind her with a slam.

Mason stepped to the corridor door. Doris Sully Kent smiled up at him. “I knew I’d find you here, Mr. Mason.”

“Come in,” he invited.

She entered the room, smiled sweetly at him, placed herself in a chair so that her blonde hair showed to advantage against the black leather. “Working hard?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted you, but I thought you might be interested.”

“You have a lawyer?”

“Not me. Not now.”

“Well?” he asked.

She extended a glove forefinger and traced little curving lines along the skirt where it was stretched tightly over her leg. Her eyes followed the moving tip of her forefinger. While she spoke she did not once glance at him. “I’ve been thinking things over. I’m willing to admit I started that Santa Barbara action because I knew Pete was going to get married again, and I didn’t see any reason why I should let him dissipate his property on some golddigger. I understand the woman is a nurse. Think of it, Peter Kent marrying a nurse!”

“What’s wrong with a nurse?” Mason asked.

“Everything,” she replied, “so far as Peter Kent is concerned. She has to work for a living.”

“And a mighty fine thing,” Mason said. “I like women who work for a living.”

“It isn’t that. It’s not that I’m snobbish. It’s the fact that she’s after Peter Kent’s money.”

“I don’t agree with you.”

“We don’t need to discuss it, do we?”

“You brought it up.”

“Well, I was just trying to explain to you why I had a change of heart.”

“Do I understand you’re trying to tell me you’ve experienced a change of heart?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I suddenly decided that, even if Peter is a little off mentally, and wants to squander his money, I shouldn’t stop him. If that’s what it takes to make him happy, I want him to be happy.”

“So what?” Mason asked skeptically.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” she said wearily, “you think I’m coldblooded and mercenary. I do wish I could do something to convince you I wasn’t. I value your good opinion very much indeed, Mr. Mason; more, perhaps, than you realize. I have met lots of attorneys, but I have never met anyone who seemed to be as straightforward, as vigorous, and as… as ruggedly honest as you are. And I could see you didn’t like me. Men usually like me. I want very much to have you like me.”

Mason opened his cigarette case, extended it to her. She took a cigarette, suddenly lifted her eyes to his, smiled and said, “Say ‘thank you.’“

“Thank you,” Mason said, tonelessly. He gave her a light, then transferred the flaming match to the tip of his own cigarette and regarded her quizzically through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Well?”

“The district attorney wants to put me on the witness stand.”

“To prove what?”

“To prove that Peter tried to kill me with a carving knife.”

“Does he think he can use your testimony?”

“He said, to use his exact words, ‘Somewhere along the line Mason will open the door so I can use you on rebuttal.’“

“Anything else?”

“You’re not making it particularly easy for me.”

“If I knew just what you had in mind,” he told her, “I might make it easier.”

“I want to let Peter have his divorce.”

“Why?”

“Because I think that’s the best thing for him.”

“And just how do you propose to go about it?” he asked.

“I want to dismiss all of my actions. That would clear everything up. The final decree has already been granted, and, if I dismiss everything, that would give Peter a clean slate, wouldn’t it?”

Mason didn’t answer her question directly but said, “Just how much did you expect in return?”

“What made you think I expected anything?”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m not mercenary. I don’t want any of Peter’s money, but I’m untrained, I haven’t any profession, I haven’t any skill nor any calling. I can’t even run a typewriter or take shorthand.”

“How much?” he asked.

Some swift emotion flamed in her eyes, then died. “How much would you suggest?” she asked demurely.

“I couldn’t make any suggestion.”

“You could suggest what Peter would be willing to pay, couldn’t you?”

“No.”

“I’d take two hundred thousand dollars in cash. That would enable me to keep on living in the style to which Peter accustomed me.”

“Don’t do it,” Mason told her; “it isn’t worth it.”

“Isn’t worth what?”

“Going on living at that price.”

“You’re trying to tell me how I should live?” she flared.

He shook his head and said, “No, I’m trying to tell you what you can’t get.”

“What can’t I get?”

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“I don’t see,” she told him, her finger now making rapid excursions over the dress material, “how I could get along on any less.”

“Oh, well,” Mason said, “you’re getting fifteen hundred a month. Suppose you go ahead and keep on taking that. That would be a lot better than a lump sum. You’ll have a fixed monthly income and, if anything should happen, you’d be taken care of.”

“How long would that continue?”

“Indefinitely,” he told her, “unless, of course, you got married.”

“No,” she said, “I don’t want to be a drain on Peter that way. I would prefer just taking some little settlement and getting out.”

“What do you mean by a little settlement?”

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

Mason shook his head gravely. “No, I wouldn’t suggest that my client pay you a lump sum. You’ve been so fair all the way through that I really think you’d better keep that fifteen hundred a month. I’d say that, in the long run, you’d be a lot better off than if you had a large sum of money.”

“Suppose I came down?”

“How much?”

“Suppose I told you exactly what my lowest price is, Mr. Mason? One hundred thousand dollars.” Mason yawned, covered the yawn with polite fingers, shook his head. “You’re very difficult to deal with.”

“Oh, well,” Mason told her, “go ahead and get an attorney, if you feel that way about it, and I’ll deal through him.”

“I don’t want to split with any lawyer.” Mason shrugged his shoulders. She suddenly dashed her cigarette to the floor, jumped to her feet and said, “Well, make me an offer! Don’t sit there like a bump on a log. I’ve got things to do.”

“What?” he asked her, raising his eyebrows.

“None of your damn business. Make me an offer.”

“For what?”

“For a complete cleanup all the way along the line.”

“You’ll get out?”

“I’ll say I’ll get out.”

“Without bothering Peter Kent or seeing him again?”

“If I never see him again, that’s six months too soon.”

Mason shook his head and said slowly, “No, I think my client has changed his mind about getting married. Only yesterday he mentioned how beautiful you were. Frankly, I think it might be possible to effect a reconciliation.”

“I don’t want a reconciliation.” Mason shrugged his shoulders. “Look here,” she said, still standing, her eyes glittering, cheeks flushed, “I read the newspaper accounts of the trial today.”

“Well?” he asked.

“Well, Maddox was asked about a telephone call.”

“Well?”

“Suppose you could prove he was lying?”

“That,” Mason said, “would be most advantageous.”

“Well, suppose I got on the witness stand and admitted receiving a telephone call from him. What would that be worth to you?”

“Not a damn cent,” Mason said. “We’re not going to buy perjured testimony from anyone.”

“But suppose it was the truth?”

“Is it the truth?”

“I’m not going to answer the question just yet.”

“When you get on the witness stand,” Mason said, “you’ll answer the question.”

“And I’ll answer it any way I damn please,” she told him, coming over to the corner of the desk and pounding it with her fist. “Don’t think you’re going to bully me, Mr. Perry Mason.”

“You don’t mean you’d commit perjury, do you?”

“Certainly I’d commit perjury! Men make me sick. They lie to women up one side and down the other and, if a woman lies back, they think she’s deceitful… Give me fifty thousand!”

Mason shook his head. She clenched her fists. “I’d recommend twentyfive thousand to my client,” Mason said slowly.

“He’d pay it, if you recommended it.”

“I’d recommend it, if you’d tell the absolute truth.”

“A bargain?” she asked. He nodded. “Damn you,” she told him, “I hate you! If Pete hadn’t been in jail over this thing, I could have gone to him and got two hundred thousand as easy as not. Perhaps more.”

“Go ahead and hate me,” Mason said, smiling.

“I do,” she told him, “but, if I ever get into a jam, you’re going to be my lawyer.”

“Meaning you’re thinking of shooting a husband some day?” he asked.

Slowly the anger died in her eyes. She perched herself on the arm of the big overstuffed leather chair and said, “Don’t be silly, do I look like a fool? I should kill the geese that lay the golden eggs.”

“All right,” Mason said, “I’ll get you twentyfive thousand dollars.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning. The check to be delivered to you before you go on the witness stand so there won’t be any question about a pending settlement between you and your husband when you testify.”

“Make it thirty thousand.”

“Twentyfive,” he said with finality. She sighed. “What about your conversations with Maddox?” he asked.

“You want the whole story?”

“Yes.”

“ Duncan got in touch with me first. He said he was Maddox’s lawyer. He called me around eleven o’clock and said he wanted a conference and suggested they meet in my lawyer’s office. Then at three o’clock in the morning Maddox telephoned and I explained to him that I’d already discussed the matter with his lawyer.”

“Did you have the conference?”

“Yes.”

“What did they suggest?”

“They must have thought I was a fool. They wanted me to sign a written agreement that they’d help me have Pete declared incompetent and that then I was going to make a complete release of all of Pete’s rights in the Maddox Manufacturing Company and give them one hundred thousand dollars in cash as soon as I got control of Pete’s property.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them I’d have to think it over.”

“Did you say how long you were going to take thinking it over?

“No.”

“Did they try to rush you?”

“Of course.”

“Can you tell exactly when Duncan called you?”

“No, it was some time around eleven o’clock, between ten and eleven.”

“Exactly when Maddox called you?”

“That was three o’clock in the morning. I looked at my watch. It made me so damn mad to be wakened at that hour, because I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Mason took some typewritten notes from his desk. “Did you,” he asked, “say over the telephone, in answer to Maddox’s call, words to this effect?” and Mason read slowly from his notes, “‘Hello… Yes, this is Mrs. Kent… Yes, Mrs. Doris Sully Kent of Santa Barbara… What’s that name again, please?… Maddox… I don’t understand your calling at this hour… Why, I thought that was all fixed… Your lawyer has arranged a conference, and I’ll meet you, as agreed… You can get in touch with Mr. Sam Hettley, of the firm of Hettley and Hettley, if you want any more information. Goodby.”

“Why, yes!” she exclaimed. “Those must have been my exact words! How did you know?”

Mason shook his head, went on with his questioning. “Then what did you do?”

“Tried to sleep for an hour or so and then got in my car and drove to Los Angeles.”

“Where was your car?”

“It happened that it was in a neighbor’s garage, about half a block down the street.”

“Did you make any attempt to sneak out of your house?”

She shook her head. “Not consciously. There’d been someone hanging around in front of the house. I thought perhaps Peter had decided to put a detective on me, which would have been foolish because I’d never have left a back trail he could have followed. I’ve had detectives on my trail before.”

“So you tried to sneak out?”

“Well, I didn’t go out with a brass band.”

“Went out the back door?”

“Yes.”

“And along the cement walk?”

“No, I kept to the grassy stretch on the side.”

“So your feet wouldn’t make any noise?”

“Yes.”

“And you weren’t followed when you came to Los Angeles?”

“No, but I met a man in the hallway of the office building where my lawyer has his office, who looked like a detective. I was a little bit frightened. I told my lawyer to be careful and fix things so Maddox and Duncan didn’t leave the office for an hour after I left.”

“One more question,” Mason said. “Where were you on the thirteenth?”

“The day before the murder?”

“Yes.”

“In Los Angeles.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping and consulting with my lawyers.”

“Anything else?”

She thought a minute, then laughed and said, “I saw Pete on the street and followed him for a while.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know—just curiosity, I guess. I followed him here and knew he’d been consulting with you. I’d fired my Santa Barbara lawyers, and when I saw Pete come here I knew things were coming to a head, so then was when I went to see Hettley.”

“How far did you follow Mr. Kent?”

“Until he started for Hollywood. I thought some of stopping him and talking settlement. I wish I’d done it now.”

“That,” Mason said, “is better. Inasmuch as your appearance in court has been made through Hettley and Hettley, you’ll have to have them sign the releases. You get those releases and I’ll have a check for twentyfive thousand dollars all ready for you.”

“That’s okay,” she said, “I made Hettley and Hettley sign the request for dismissal and all of that a couple of days ago. I have all of the necessary papers with me.”

“How did you get them to do that?”

“Do we have to go into that?” she asked.

“I’d like to get a complete picture of the situation.”

“It was simple,” she told him, her lips curving in a smile, “I told them that I’d made some perjured allegations in my complaint and asked them if they wanted to go ahead with the case in view of that fact. I told them that I’d made some very damaging admissions to a very attractive young woman who, it turned out, was a detective, and the other side knew of my perjury. Naturally, they were so anxious to get out they told me never to darken their doors again. I paid them five hundred dollars for drawing up the papers and they washed their hands of the entire case.”

“Do you always play both ends against the middle?” he asked her.

“Sure. I’m attractive. Men never married me for love—not the kind I married. They were old buzzards with money… If I ever marry again, it’ll be for love. I’m tired of golddigging.”

“Thinking of getting married?” he asked her.

“No, of course not.”

“Very well,” he told her, “I’ll have your money in the morning.”

He escorted her to the door. She turned in the corridor and said, “You won’t tell Hettley and Hettley about the trick I’ve pulled on them, will you?”

“Not me,” Mason told her. “All I want is to have the releases and dismissals in proper form and you’ll get your twentyfive thousand dollars. You’ll also be subpoenaed as a witness for the defense.”

“Swell,” she told him.

“And don’t make the mistake of trying to change your story after I get you on the stand,” he told her.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I know enough about men to know when I’m monkeying with a buzz saw. I’ll play ball with you, Mr. Mason.”

He bowed, smiled and closed the door. Della Street emerged from the law library, carrying a notebook and pencils. “The damn little doublecrosser,” she said. “I could snatch her hair out. What a little tramp she is!”

Mason chuckled and said, “Anyone who can slip one over on Hettley and Hettley is entitled to it. It was a case of diamond cut diamond. They thought they were going to stick her plenty. She just beat them to it.”

“I hated to see you give her twentyfive thousand dollars,” Della Street said. “I’ll bet she’d have dismissed her case anyway. She’s crazy over Pritchard.”

“Don’t worry,” Mason told her; “your friend, George Pritchard will get most of it. And he needs the money to pay off Myrna Duchene. You might get Myrna on the telephone and suggest that now would be a good time to drop into Pritchard’s hotel and threaten to have him arrested unless he kicks through with the money by tomorrow morning.”

Della Street reached for the telephone. “And will that give me pleasure,” she exclaimed.