The Case of the Spurious Spinster

Chapter 4

Sunday morning at eleven-thirty Mason’s unlisted phone rang and Paul Drake’s voice came over the wire.

“Okay, Perry, you win.”

“She’s here?”

“At the airport. My man’s getting things all lined up for her and he’s going to take her to the Arthenium in an agency car.”

“Okay, Paul, thanks,” Mason said. “I’m on my way.”

“You want me there?”

“No. Ring up Della’s apartment, ask her to get there as fast as she can. Tell her to bring a notebook and her feminine charm. Something seems to tell me this woman may be a little suspicious of men, but Della should be able to win her over. At least she can try.”

“Okay,” Drake said. “I’ll wish you luck, Perry.”

“I’ll need it,” the lawyer said.

Mason called Susan Fisher’s apartment. “I’m just alerting you,” he said.

“For what?”

“To be ready for action.”

“What sort of action?”

“I may want you to go someplace.”

“All right,” she told him, “I’ll be ready. Anything you say, Mr. Mason.”

“Keep near the telephone and be dressed to go out,” Mason said, and hung up. He got his car from the garage, drove to the Arthenium Hotel and waited for fifteen minutes before Drake’s detective showed up solicitously squiring an angular woman in a wheelchair, a woman who wore glasses with large blue lenses, who had high cheekbones, a prominent jaw, and a firm mouth.

Mason approached the woman. “Miss Corning?” he asked.

She raised her head and moved it from side to side, peering from behind the heavy blue glasses, trying to get some picture of the man whose voice she had heard.

Then, after a moment, she answered shortly, “I’m Miss Corning. What is it you want?”

“I’m Perry Mason,” the lawyer said. “I’m an attorney and I want to talk with you on a matter of the greatest importance, a matter concerning your holdings here. I think it’s quite important that you hear what I have to say before you get in touch with anyone.”

She hesitated a moment, then said, “Very well, I’ll be glad to hear what you have to say, Mr. Mason. I believe a suite has been arranged for me here. At least that’s the information I’ve been given by wire.”

“I understand your company is expecting you,” Mason said.

“Well, they did a better job of it than I thought they could. But I still don’t know how they found out when I was corning. I am not scheduled to appear officially until tomorrow. However, the trip up is a long, hard one and I decided I’d get here a day early, just stretch my weary bones out, and rest.”

Drake’s operative, who had approached the desk, came over to the wheelchair with a registration card and the desk clerk.

The operative glanced significantly at Mason and said, “The hotel wants Miss Corning’s personal signature on the registration card.”

“Certainly,” Mason said.

Miss Corning stretched out a bony hand, reached for the card which the clerk was handing her, but her fingers were some six or eight inches over the card.

The clerk tactfully withdrew the card, then pushed it right into her fingers.

“Just sign here,” the clerk said.

“Where?” Miss Corning asked, holding the pen.

“Right here.” The clerk put his hand over hers, touched the pen to the paper, and the woman immediately wrote “Amelia Corning” in an angular, cramped but legible handwriting.

A bellboy said, “Right this way, Miss Corning.”

“You only have the two suitcases and a handbag?” Mason asked.

“Good heavens, how much did you expect? Do you know what excess baggage costs on those planes corning up from South America? It’s highway robbery... I wish now I’d only brought the one bag... of course, comfort is something, but, after all, a dollar’s a dollar. Now, let’s go up and find out what it is you want, Mr... er...”

“Mason,” the lawyer prompted.

“Oh, yes, Mason. All right, I’m not much good at names but I’ll try and remember. You have a nice voice. I think I’m going to like you.”

The lawyer walked beside the wheelchair as they approached the elevators.

Colton C. Bailey, the house detective, who had evidently been alerted by the clerk, appeared on the scene, shook hands with Mason, said quietly, “Introduce me.”

Mason said, “Miss Corning, may I present Mr. Colton Bailey. He’s connected here with the hotel in an executive capacity and if there’s anything you want he’ll be only too glad to try and see that you are accommodated.”

“That’s very nice,” Miss Corning said. “I’ll go up and take a look around at that Presidential Suite. The probabilities are I’ll want to be moved into something more modest. There’s no need for me to be rattling around in a lot of room I don’t need, and those suites cost money.”

“We’ll go up right now and take a look, Miss Corning,” Bailey said. “We want to be certain you’re satisfied.”

The little entourage went up to the Presidential Suite. The bellboy opened the door and Bailey, Mason, and Drake’s operative wheeled Miss Corning into the main room.

She looked around and sniffed. “I’ll bet this costs a hundred dollars a day,” she said.

“A hundred and thirty-five,” Bailey said apologetically.

“All right, I want to move out and get into something smaller.”

“The rental has been arranged, I believe,” Bailey said.

She sniffed. “That’s Endicott Campbell for you. Spending company funds on a luxury that I don’t need, trying to impress me. By the way, where is he?”

Bailey looked at Mason inquiringly.

Mason glanced at his watch and said, “Apparently he hasn’t arrived yet, Miss Corning, but you can probably expect him.”

Bailey said, “Now, Miss Corning, there’s a certain formality that we have to go through on account of security reasons. You’ll probably be wanting to cash checks here at the hotel and we’d like to establish a line of credit. Of course, the financial end of it is all taken care of; all we need is a complete check on identity. I’m wondering if you’d mind letting me see your passport.”

“Humph!” she said. “I haven’t asked you for anything yet except smaller quarters.”

“But,” he said, “if it’s all the same to you, we’d like to see your passport, Miss Corning.”

“Well, of all things!” she said. “I’ve been showing that damn passport... I was hoping that when I got to my own country I wouldn’t need to wear it on my sleeve and keep showing it to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that would ask for it.”

Suddenly she realized how her remark sounded and gave a frosty smile. “Not that you’re Tom or Dick or Harry... or are you?”

“No, Miss Corning,” Bailey said. “I’m Colton. Colton Bailey.”

“Oh, all right,” she said. “I’m glad you took it in good part. I guess my nerves are a little frayed.”

She opened her purse and took out a passport.

Bailey carefully inspected the passport, then nodded to Mason as he returned the passport to Miss Corning.

“Well,” he said, with a voice that plainly showed his relief, “there’s nothing more I can do here, Miss Corning; at least at the moment. I’ll withdraw and leave you and Mr. Mason to talk things over.”

Drake’s operative said, “And I have discharged my duties, Miss Corning. I guess there is nothing else you need of me.”

As they opened the door, Della Street, neatly tailored, calmly efficient, came walking into the room.

She sized up the situation, moved over to the chair and said, “How do you do, Miss Corning? I’m Della Street. I’m Mr. Mason’s executive secretary and Mr. Mason asked me to come here so that I could be of any assistance possible. In case there’s anything that’s in the feminine department I want to do all I can to make you comfortable.”

Miss Corning twisted her head with a distinctive birdlike gesture, tilting it from one side to the other as though hoping to get a better view through the heavy lenses.

“Well, my dear,” she said, “I can’t see you very clearly, but I can see you have a very trim figure and your voice is wonderful. As my eyes get worse, I depend more on my ears. I rely a great deal on voices. I certainly like yours.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much indeed,” Della Street said.

“Not at all. Now, Mr. Mason, you’re a lawyer. If your time isn’t valuable you aren’t a very good lawyer. If you’re a very good lawyer your time is worth a lot of money. Neither of us wants to waste it. So let’s get to the point.”

“Wouldn’t you like to freshen up first?” Mason asked.

“You go right ahead, young man,” she snapped. “You’ll find I’m fresh enough. Now, just what is it you want?”

“It’s not what I want,” Mason said. “It’s something one of my clients wants.”

“Well it’s the same thing,” she told him. “Now, go on. Start talking. Sit down, make yourself comfortable and have that delightful secretary of yours make herself comfortable.”

“You’re all right in the wheelchair?” Della Street asked. “You don’t want to move into a more comfortable chair?”

“I’m all right, right here,” Miss Corning said.

Mason said, “I’m not going to take the time to try to be diplomatic, Miss Corning. In a matter of this sort, I have only one approach and that is to put the cards right on the table.”

“Face up,” Miss Corning said.

“Face up,” Mason said, smiling. “Now, the first thing that I have to tell you, and which may come as something of a shock to you, is that yesterday a woman who claimed to be you appeared at the airport and telephoned the offices of the Corning Mining, Smelting & Investment Company.”

“What!” she exclaimed.

Mason nodded.

“Well, go on,” Miss Corning said. “What happened?”

“There,” Mason said, “we get into the realm of speculation. I can’t tell you exactly what happened. However, I can tell you this much. This woman telephoned the company offices. A young woman by the name of Susan Fisher, who acts as confidential secretary to Endicott Campbell, the manager, and who was called up by Mr. Campbell to get certain things in readiness for your arrival, was working overtime there and answered the telephone.

“Upon being advised that Miss Corning was at the airport, that a telegram had been sent announcing an earlier date of arrival and upon being unable to get in touch with Mr. Campbell, she dashed out to the airport.

“There she found a woman who apparently had a very striking physical resemblance to you seated in a wheelchair, surrounded by baggage bearing the labels of South American hotels and South American airlines. She escorted this woman to this suite of rooms and the woman insisted on going almost immediately to the office in order to check into certain things.”

“What happened?” Miss Corning asked.

“This woman showed a surprising familiarity with the business. She inquired about various details, then she sent Susan Fisher down to buy some suitcases and put certain vouchers and books of account in those suitcases and then vanished. There is a possibility that she took with her a fairly large sum of money from the safe. We can’t be certain about that.”

“Why can’t you be certain about it?”

“Because the origin of that money is shrouded in a certain amount of mystery.”

“All right,” Miss Corning said, “where do you come in?”

“I’m representing Susan Fisher.”

“Does she need an attorney?”

“She may need an attorney.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Mason said, “she may have let an impostor into the office; she may have been the victim of an impersonation and turned over certain vouchers and books of account and permitted them to leave the office.”

“Why all that hurried activity on a Saturday?” Miss Corning asked.

“Frankly,” Mason said, “because there is some reason to believe that there may have been irregularities in the operation of the company. Take, for instance, the mine in the Mojave Desert known as the Mojave Monarch. That mine—”

“That mine,” Miss Corning interrupted firmly, “needs looking into. You don’t need to go on to tell me any more about that, Mr. Mason. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. Now then, where’s Endicott Campbell?”

“I don’t know,” Mason said. “Frankly, I was somewhat anticipating your arrival at the airport and the man who met you was one who is in my employ rather than in the employ of the company.”

“And you think somebody is going to make trouble for this young woman client of yours?”

“Mr. Campbell has indicated as much.”

“All right,” Miss Corning said, “let’s get hold of Mr. Campbell and let’s get hold of this young woman. Where’s this very efficient secretary of yours? Is she here?”

“Right here,” Della Street said.

“All right,” Miss Corning said. “I presume you know the number of your client’s telephone. Here are some numbers that Mr. Campbell gave me where he can be reached in case he’s not at home. However, this is his home number and you can try that first. Now, let’s get both of them up here.”

Della Street started putting through the telephone calls.

Mason said, “Of course, Miss Corning, in view of your large holdings in the company, regardless of what Mr. Campbell may feel should be done, the ultimate fate of Susan Fisher rests very largely in your hands.”

“That’s right,” Miss Corning said. “You don’t need to waste time pointing out the obvious to me, Mr. Mason. That’s why I want to get her up here. My eyes aren’t too good, but I’m a pretty good judge of voices. Now that I can’t see so well, I have to make up for it by listening. After I hear a person talk I can tell whether I want to trust that person or not. My judgment isn’t infallible but it suits me all right.

“And I’ll tell you something else. The reason I’m here is that I called up Endicott Campbell on international long-distance telephone and I didn’t like the sound of his voice. There was a certain equivocation in his voice that I didn’t like. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect himself or someone else, but... well, I’m here to find out.”

Della Street reported, “Endicott Campbell isn’t at home. The housekeeper who is there doesn’t know where he is. She’s there alone. Elizabeth Dow, the governess, Carleton Campbell, the young son, and Endicott Campbell are all out somewhere.”

“Together?” Mason asked.

“She doesn’t know,” Della Street said.

“What about Susan Fisher, Della?”

“I got Miss Fisher on the line and told her to get up here right away She’s corning up immediately.”

“All right,” Miss Corning said. “Now, I’m going to do this freshening up you were talking about. If this secretary of yours, Mr. Mason, wouldn’t mind assisting a somewhat helpless old woman, we’ll retire to one of the bedrooms. You can sit here in the room which I believe is still known as a parlor in hotel lingo. I don’t want to have anyone else around. Just sit here and wait, Mr. Mason, and I’ll be out shortly. In the meantime, if that young woman client of yours comes in, just tell her to sit down and be comfortable, and that we’ll be out before too very long.

“Now then,” she said, turning to Della, “your name is Della Street?”

“That’s right,” Della said.

“Would you mind corning in the bedroom with me and helping me unpack? My eyes are just no good at all and it’s difficult to unpack by feeling... Oh, I can see outlines and get a vague impression of faces, but bright light bothers me and I can’t see anything in a half-light. I’m getting worse all the time. I have to rely more and more on a sense of touch.”

“I’ll be glad to do anything I can to help,” Della Street said.

“You have loyalty and efficiency,” Miss Corning announced, “and unless I’m very much mistaken, you have a great deal of ability. Come along now.”

The women retired to the bedroom. Mason settled back in one of the comfortable chairs, tried to relax but couldn’t, then got up and started thoughtfully pacing the floor.

The lawyer was still pacing when knuckles tapped gently on the outer door. Mason opened it and a frightened Susan Fisher stood in the hallway.

“Come in,” Mason said.

She entered the room, looking around apprehensively.

“They’re in the bedroom unpacking and Miss Corning is freshening up,” Mason said.

“How bad is it?” Sue Fisher asked.

“Not bad at all — at least not so far. Miss Corning is a very well-balanced, unemotional woman who gives the impression of being most considerate.”

“Has Mr. Campbell got hold of her yet?”

“No,” Mason said. “As far as I know, Campbell has no idea that she is in the city. He’s expecting her tomorrow.”

“How did you know she was here?”

Mason grinned and said, “I anticipated it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Mason said, “I knew she was due to arrive tomorrow and I thought she might arrive a day ahead of time. So Paul Drake had men at the airport waiting for her to arrive. When she showed up, Drake’s man stepped forward and met her and told her he’d take charge of her baggage and promptly proceeded to notify Paul Drake, who, in turn, notified me. And here we are.”

“You mean you thought all that out in advance?”

“There wasn’t anything much to think out in advance,” Mason said. “We knew that Miss Corning was going to show up at the airport and I wanted to have an opportunity to tell her your side of the story before Endicott Campbell told her his side of the story. That’s all there was to it.”

Susan Fisher impulsively took Mason’s hand in both of hers. “I think you’re absolutely wonderful,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”

“I was afraid you might worry,” Mason said. “I wanted you to get a good night’s sleep. Did you?”

“I slept off and on,” she said, “but it wasn’t what you’d call a good night’s sleep. Do I look a wreck?”

“You look wonderful,” Mason told her. “But Miss Corning doesn’t depend too much on her eyes. She depends a great deal on her ears. She likes to listen to persons’ voices when they talk and makes an appraisal of character from those voices. She—”

The bedroom door opened and Della Street pushed Miss Corning’s wheelchair out into the room.

“Hello, Susan,” Della Street said. “This is Miss Corning. Miss Corning, Susan Fisher is here.”

“Where are you, child?” Miss Corning asked.

“Right here,” Sue said, corning forward to the chair. “Oh, Miss Corning, I feel so terrible about what happened yesterday. Mr. Mason says he’s told you the facts.”

“Sit down here close to me,” Miss Corning said, “and tell me what happened.”

Della Street said, “I’ll wheel Miss Corning over here by this chair, Susan, then you can talk with her on one side and Mr. Mason will be on the other.”

Miss Corning said, “I suppose this isn’t very ethical, Mr. Mason, but I would like to steal your secretary. I don’t know what Mr. Mason is paying you, Miss Street, but I’ll double it.”

“Now just a minute,” Mason interposed. “This is criminal conspiracy, grand larceny, and treason.”

“No such thing,” Miss Corning said. “It’s a business proposition and there’s no treason involved because I don’t owe you any loyalty and she wouldn’t even consider such a proposition. Would you, Della?”

“I’m afraid not,” Della Street said, laughing.

“Well, let’s get down to business. Now then, young lady... what’s your name — Fisher?”

“That’s right, Susan Fisher.”

“How old are you, Susan?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Good figure?”

Susan laughed in an embarrassed manner and Della Street said, “Very good, Miss Corning.”

“In love?” Miss Corning asked.

“Not at the moment.”

“How long have you been working in the office there?”

“More than a year.”

“Did you start in as Mr. Campbell’s secretary?”

“No. I started in as a stenographer.”

“He picked you out to become his secretary?”

“Yes.”

“How good are you at typing?”

“I’m quite good.”

“Shorthand?”

“I think I’m rather good.”

“Did Mr. Campbell pick you out because of your ability or because of your figure?”

Susan Fisher laughed in an embarrassed manner.

“Go ahead,” Miss Corning said, “answer the question.”

“Frankly, Miss Corning, I think he picked me out because of my figure. But after he had tried out my shorthand and typing, I think he kept me because of my ability.”

“Ever make passes at you?”

Susan hesitated, then said, quietly, “Yes.”

“Ever get anywhere?”

“No.”

“What kind of passes?”

“Just the ordinary kind, just sort of exploring to see where the ‘No Trespassing’ signs were.”

“Can’t blame him for that,” Miss Corning said. “Any normal man will do that with a good-looking girl who’s working with him. All right now, is Mr. Campbell crooked or not?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know, Miss Corning, and I wish I did. There are some things going on there that bother me very much. I’m not in the auditing department. I simply type up statements and—”

“You ran an adding machine?”

“Oh, yes.”

“All right, go on. You type up statements and then what?”

“Well, I get the statements primarily from the auditing department or Mr. Campbell gives me the statements... I will say this, the business is so departmentalized that, frankly, I doubt if anyone other than Mr. Campbell has a general comprehensive picture of what goes on. And I’ve been concerned about this Mojave Monarch mine.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing,” Susan said, “I went out there to Mojave on a drive. I didn’t have any idea of looking at the mine; in fact, I’d forgotten all about the mine being in that part of the country. I was just out there driving around and I saw a sign on a road, a rather weather-beaten piece of wood nailed to a stake. It said on this sign, ‘Mojave Monarch.’ So I turned in there just out of curiosity.”

“And what did you find?”

“I found a mine, but there certainly was no one working there. I went to one of the service stations and asked if there was any other Mojave Monarch around there and the service station man said he’d never heard of any, that the only Mojave Monarch he knew had been closed ever since one of the veins had faulted out.”

“The monthly reports show that the mine is operating, but operating at a heavy loss,” Miss Corning said.

“I’m quite familiar with the monthly reports,” Susan Fisher said. “I do the typing.”

“But you don’t think the mine is working?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then if the reports are false, Mr. Campbell is crooked?”

“I wouldn’t say that. The reports come in from a manager in Mojave and—”

“Endicott Campbell has never been out to Mojave to look the mine over?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if he’s going to manage my business he should know what’s going on in a mine that’s almost in his back yard.”

Susan Fisher said nothing.

“Well,” Miss Corning snapped, “say something! Should he or shouldn’t he?”

Susan said, “Mr. Campbell is very, very busy around the office. He’s making out reports and correlating affairs and he’s had quite a bit of trouble with the income-tax people. Frankly, I don’t think he’s ever gone to Mojave. I think he feels the mine is somewhat out of his jurisdiction. I don’t know where he—”

The door opened and Endicott Campbell, standing in the doorway, said, “Who says I’ve never gone to Mojave? What’s going on here? What are you folks trying to do, get behind my back and tear my business reputation to shreds?”

“I suppose,” Miss Corning said, “that irate, rasping voice belongs to my manager, Endicott Campbell. Come in, Mr. Campbell, and sit down. It’s customary to knock before entering.”

“I don’t care whether it’s customary or not,” Campbell said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, and, despite the fact that I’m working for you, Miss Corning, I resent the idea of you corning here and gathering my employees around you to discuss the efficiency of my management before you have even taken the matter up with me or let me know that you were here.”

“Now just a minute, Campbell,” Mason said. “We tried to get in touch with you on the telephone.”

“How did you know Miss Corning was here?” Campbell demanded.

“I anticipated her arrival,” Mason said.

“She wasn’t due until tomorrow.”

“I know she wasn’t,” Mason told him, “but in case you want to know, I had men watching the airport so that we could pick her up on her arrival. That was something that you could have done if you’d wanted to — or if you’d thought of it.”

“I’m afraid my mind doesn’t work in these somewhat devious channels,” Campbell said. And then to Miss Corning, “I’m sorry, Miss Corning, that I’m acting in this manner, but, frankly, I’m angry.”

“Go ahead, go ahead,” Miss Corning said. “Get angry. I like to hear two men fight.”

“Well, I don’t like the idea of Mr. Mason homing in on this thing and trying to get around behind my back.”

“Now, just a minute,” Mason told him. “In the first place, I don’t give a damn whether you like it or not. In the second place, nobody is going behind your back. We’re out in front of you and scooping up the ball that you’d fumbled. Now, just remember one thing. I’m representing Susan Fisher. She’s my client. I have an idea that you’re intending to make her some sort of a football that you can kick around in order to disguise your own shortcornings. I don’t intend to let you do it. I wanted Miss Corning to know the facts as they were before you had a chance to garble them.”

“Well,” Campbell said, “I would have liked to have had Miss Corning know the facts as they were before you got to her and garbled them.”

“We’re talking facts,” Mason said.

“You were talking about the intimate affairs of the company.”

“We were answering Miss Corning’s questions about the Mojave Monarch, and I think that perhaps Miss Corning can well ask you about the Mojave Monarch. If you think we’ve garbled the facts, I’d like to hear what you have to say about them.”

“And so would I,” Miss Corning said.

Much of the belligerence left Campbell’s manner. “All right,” he said, “as far as the Mojave Monarch is concerned, the only thing I can say to Miss Corning is that apparently I was victimized by a man who was in charge of the property at Mojave, a man who apparently made false reports to me in person, in writing, and over the telephone.”

“Have you ever been out there?” Miss Corning demanded.

“I’ve been out there,” Campbell said. “I’ve just returned from there. I was out there yesterday. I’m not a mining man, Miss Corning. I’m an executive. I specialize in the supervision of real-estate investments. The mine activities were entirely out of my line. I told you that when you hired me.

“As far as the real-estate activities are concerned, you’ll find that you have made a tidy profit under my management. As far as the Mojave Monarch is concerned, I’ve been victimized and you have incurred a very substantial loss because of that. I’m sorry, but I was so busy with real estate that I had to delegate the mining activities to the manager, Ken Lowry. The mine was in a field about which I knew virtually nothing.

“The profits on the real estate which I have handled for you have been very substantial, and have more than offset any losses on the Mojave Monarch. I would like to discuss that matter with you in detail and not in front of an audience.

“And as far as this young woman is concerned, this woman who was so anxious to get to your ears before I had an opportunity to say anything, I am very much afraid the books show that she has embezzled something over a hundred and sixty-one thousand dollars in cash. I have had the auditing department working all night and a very serious cash shortage has shown up. It shows a devilish ingenuity, as well as quite a familiarity with the affairs of the company.”

“All right,” Mason said, “now it comes out in the open. You’re accusing Susan Fisher of embezzling money from the corporation?”

“I’m not making any accusations at the present time. I’m simply reporting confidentially to my employer what the auditing department has uncovered as a result of all-night activity.”

“You consider yourself blameless in the matter?” Mason asked.

“Certainly.”

“You’re the executive manager of the business, you think that you have been working efficiently and yet it is only within the last twenty-four hours you have found out there is a shortage of something over a hundred and sixty thousand dollars in the company, and that the Mojave Monarch has been operated in such a way that Miss Corning has been swindled out of many thousands of dollars?”

“I don’t have to answer those questions. I don’t like the way you phrase them and I don’t have to submit to cross-examination by you,” Campbell said. “For your information, my business management has netted something over three-quarters of a million dollars for Miss Corning. A man can’t make profits in a business of that magnitude without having some areas of the business which are not given his undivided personal attention.”

“And in these areas of the business which have not been given your undivided personal attention, there have been shortages and swindles?” Mason asked.

“I’ve told you I don’t have to submit to your cross-examination.”

Mason said, “You accuse my client of embezzling and you’ll be submitting to my cross-examination, either here or in court.”

“By the time we get to court,” Campbell said, “I’ll have the facts and figures so well established that even you can’t alibi your client into the clear.”

Mason said, “For your information, Miss Corning, Mr. Campbell evidently kept a shoe box in his closet. This shoe box was crammed full of one-hundred-dollar bills. His seven-year-old son inadvertently picked up this shoe box and—”

“And for your information, Miss Corning,” Campbell interrupted, his voice raised in anger, “that’s a dastardly lie!”

“We can prove what I’m saying,” Mason said.

“Only by the unsubstantiated word of your client,” Campbell charged. “That shoe box full of hundred-dollar bills was never seen by anybody except Susan Fisher.”

Susan said, “Your son brought the box in, Mr. Campbell. Where’s Carleton now?”

Endicott Campbell said, “Get this thing straight once and for all, all of you. My son is not going to be dragged into this. I am not going to have his emotions twisted and distorted against his father. We’re going to leave my son out of this. He is not going to be interrogated by anyone.”

“I take it,” Mason said, “by that you mean you have taken steps to see that he can’t be found.”

“I am acting in accordance with my conscientious convictions as his father. I am performing my duties as a parent.”

“In other words,” Mason said, “after we strip your speech of all its high-sounding talk about your duties as a parent, it comes down to the fact that Susan Fisher says your son gave her a shoe box belonging to you and that this shoe box was full of hundred-dollar bills. You say that that is a complete lie, that no one has seen the shoe box except Susan Fisher, and in order to establish your point you have put your son somewhere in hiding so that he can’t be interrogated.”

“You are a lawyer,” Campbell said. “You can twist things around to suit your own purpose. I made the statement which I think Miss Corning will accept at face value.”

“All right,” Amelia Corning said, “I think I’ve heard enough to get a pretty good picture of the situation. I’ve given you and your client a chance to talk, Mr. Mason, and now I’m going to give Mr. Campbell a chance to talk.”

“I will say that,” Endicott Campbell said, “I tried to humor my son yesterday morning. He had a shoe box which contained some of his treasures. I had a shoe box containing some dress shoes. I made some joking remark about a trade. He evidently took the shoe box containing the patent-leather shoes. He told me that he gave that shoe box to Susan Fisher. He said she put it in the safe, that he didn’t get it back. That is the complete story of the shoe box. I know what was in that shoe box. It was a pair of dress shoes. I can show you the sales slip where they were purchased. Now if Miss Fisher will kindly produce the shoe box she claims was filled with money we’ll see what’s in it.”

Amelia Corning said, “The situation is quite clear. Somebody is lying. Now if you folks will retire I’ll sit down and talk things over with Mr. Campbell. I take it, Mr. Campbell, you feel that you’re able to substantiate some of the charges you’ve made?”

“Unfortunately,” Campbell said, “Sue Fisher has disposed of much of the documentary evidence. She says she turned it over to a woman who arrived here yesterday and impersonated you. If Miss Fisher had simply refrained from doing all of these things until I could have been given an opportunity as manager of the business to okay what she was doing, I feel that we would—”

“I tried and tried to get you,” Sue interrupted.

“Well, you didn’t try hard enough or in the right place,” Campbell said. “For your information I canceled a golf game in order to make a hurried trip to Mojave to check up on what was being done at that mine. You took it on yourself to turn over confidential company records to a perfect stranger. This is all very, very convenient for you, Miss Fisher. For my part, I think this impersonator was someone you dug up in a last-minute effort to so confuse the issues that you couldn’t be convicted of the embezzlement.”

“All right,” Mason said, “you’ve made that as an accusation. Now let me ask you this, Mr. Campbell. Is there any reason why any person who was responsible for the embezzlement, whether it was Susan Fisher, John Doe, or Endicott Campbell, couldn’t have very cleverly arranged this entire impersonation so that the documentary evidence of the embezzlement would disappear and the money would also disappear?”

Campbell smiled frostily. “So that’s going to be the angle you use in your defense; a counter-offensive, eh? Well, I’ll meet you on those grounds, Mr. Perry Mason, at the proper time and in the proper place. And right now I’m going to make a confidential report to my employer and believe me, it’s going to be confidential.

“You call up Miss Corning in an hour and you’ll find out your client wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. I’ve managed to get enough evidence in my hands to establish her duplicity.”

Miss Corning said, “You folks have all had a chance to let off steam. I’ve heard Susan Fisher’s side of the case. Now I’ll hear yours, Mr. Campbell. The rest of you, clear out!”