Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Sleepwalker's Niece

“Maddox, from Chicago,” he said; “you know, the Maddox Manufacturing Company.”

“Oh, that was something my lawyer discovered about my husband’s property. He said that the Maddox Manufacturing Company had patents that were worth millions and Peter had deliberately concealed the information from me, so he wouldn’t appear to be so wealthy when my divorce action was filed. But that’s all passed now.”

“But don’t you know Maddox personally?” Mason asked.

She looked at him with wide, astonished eyes, and said, “Certainly not.”

“Nor Duncan, his attorney?”

She shook her head, her face the picture of surprise.

“I thought you talked with Maddox over the telephone.”

“Why, whatever gave you that idea?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Skip it.”

“No, but I want to know. I really am interested, Mr. Mason, because I feel that someone has been lying about me. Perhaps that’s why Peter feels about me as he does.”

The door from the law library silently opened. Della Street, attired in a fur coat, gloved hands holding a black purse, a closefitting hat tilted rakishly at an angle, raised inquiring eyebrows at Mason. He nodded. She took a dubious step into the room. Mason strode toward her, “Why, Miss Street,” he exclaimed, “Why, my dear Miss Street.” Doris Kent stared frigidly. “Why, how did you get in here?” Mason asked, coming toward her. “I’m busy. I wasn’t to be interrupted; I haven’t forgotten about your appointment… I…”

Della Street came breezily toward him, gave him her gloved hand. “I’m sorry, if I intruded, Mr. Mason,” she said, “but I knew what a stickler you were for accuracy in appointments. Some girl in the outer office told me to go in the law library and wait because you were busy. Since I had a most definite appointment, and knowing how important my matter was, I simply couldn’t believe her. Therefore, after I’d waited a few minutes, I opened the door. I’m very, very sorry.”

“It just happened,” Mason explained, “that another matter interfered…” He broke off and motioned toward Doris Kent, who got slowly to her feet.

“I’m afraid,” Della Street said, watching Mason’s face, “that I must insist upon my appointment, however, Mr. Mason. I have only a very few minutes. You remember, you told me over the telephone that I wouldn’t have to wait. I know it was wrong for me to break in, but, after all, an appointment is an appointment.”

Mason’s manner was embarrassed. He turned to Doris Kent and said, “I’m very sorry. You’ll remember, I told you I could only give you a few minutes. I’ve had this appointment with Miss Street…”

“It’s quite all right,” Doris Kent said, throwing up her chin. “I’ll come back.”

Mason caught Della Street’s eye, jerked his head toward Doris Kent. Della moved toward her.

“I’m sure you’ll excuse me, won’t you, my dear, but I have only a few minutes available.”

Mrs. Kent smiled graciously. “Not at all,” she said, “don’t mention it. I realize how busy Mr. Mason is. After all, I think he understands my position and…”

“Where can I get in touch with you?” Mason asked.

“At the Lafitte Hotel. I’ll be there for the next two or three days.”

Mason gave a start of surprise and said, “Why, that’s your hotel, isn’t it, Miss Street?”

“Yes, I’m staying there. It’s very nice,” Della Street remarked amiably.

Mason escorted Doris Kent to the corridor. “I’m very sorry,” he said, “that this happened. She really shouldn’t have opened the door to my private office. But she had the appointment. She’s rather wealthy and quite impulsive…

“I understand perfectly,” Doris Kent said, and, turning, gave him her hand. “After all,” she said, “we can be friends, can’t we?” and her eyes were filled with promise.

Mason patted her hand, turned and reentered his office. Della Street, looking up at him anxiously, said, “Did I muff it?”

“No,” he told her, “you did nobly. Just exactly what I wanted.”

“What was the big idea?”

“Get a bunch of glad rags and move into the Lafitte Hotel. Keep sticking around until you see Doris Kent. Go over and get acquainted with her. Tell her how sorry you were that you interrupted her conference; that you realized afterward you had no right to bust in on her and that you don’t know what made you do it. Tell her I’m usually so careful about appointments, that you felt there’d been a mistake made by someone in the office; that you were in a hurry and simply had to see me.”

“Then what?” she asked. “Surely, Chief, you don’t think she’d become confidential and tell me anything which would damage her side of the case? Particularly when she knows that I know you, and…”

He chuckled. “What’s the name of the girl who got gypped in the love racket?”

She frowned at him and asked, “What the devil are you talking about, Chief?”

“You know, the girl that wanted me to handle her case? She got gypped for five thousand dollars…”

“Oh, you mean Myrna Duchene.”

“That’s the one,” he told her. “Where’s her boyfriend?”

“He’s at the Palace Hotel. Going under the name of George Pritchard.”

“Okay,” Mason said, “now you go to the Lafitte Hotel. Cultivate a speaking acquaintanceship with Mrs. Kent. Get Myrna Duchene to point out this love pirate to you. I presume he’s the type that makes a girl’s heart go pittypat, isn’t he?”

“I gather that he is,” Della Street said, puzzled. “I saw a photograph of him. He certainly looked like the answer to a maiden’s prayer.”

Mason said, “Scrape an acquaintance with him. Hand him a hard luck story about having lost your money but don’t do that until after he’s called on you at your hotel. Keep him calling there until you have an opportunity to point out Mrs. Kent to him as a very wealthy widow. And, if you can possibly work it, you’ll introduce him to Mrs. Kent and…”

Her eyes showed swift comprehension. “And let nature take its course?” she interrupted.

Mason bowed and smiled. “Exactly,” he said.

The sign which stretched across the front of the store was relatively new. Peasley Hardware Co.it read. the rest of the store was old. In the dusty, drab show windows an attempt had been made to put new wine into old bottles. Various tools had been arranged in geometric designs. Wooden steps had been covered with green cloth and used to display stock to advantage, but, for the most part, that stock gave unmistakable evidences of having been on display for some time. Perry Mason pushed his way through the door. Obviously new electric fixtures showered brilliant illumination over the counters; but the gloomy walls drank up the light and left only drab dregs for the eye.

Bob Peasley came walking briskly forward from a little office in the rear. When he was close enough to recognize Mason his step faltered appreciably, then he squared his shoulders and came up, giving Mason a forced smile of greeting. “How do you do, Mr. Mason? This is indeed a pleasure!”

“Hello, Peasley. Nice place you have here.”

“Think so? Glad you like it.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Not so long. I picked it up cheap at a receiver’s sale. I’m trying to get rid of some of the old stock now. Then I either want to move or else have the whole interior done over.

“A lease?” Mason asked.

“Yes, and it’s rather an advantageous lease. But I can’t get the landlord to do anything toward fixing up. I have the right to make changes and improvements at my own expense, however.”