Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Lucky Legs

"Well?" she asked, and her voice contained just the right amount of polite disinterest.

"Well," said Perry Mason, "what I want to know is whether you met that cop as you walked along."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, "you looked guilty. When you looked at me and saw I was looking at you, you turned your head the other way and acted as though you were afraid I was going to nab you and charge you with the theft of a thousand dollars."

Perry Mason watched her with his eyes slitted in shrewd contemplation.

The girl bit her lip.

"Yes," she said slowly, "I saw the officer."

"How far from the Holliday Apartments?"

"Quite a way; perhaps two or three blocks."

"You were walking?"

"Yes, I was walking. I wanted to…"

She broke off.

"Wanted to what?" asked Perry Mason.

"Wanted to walk," she said.

"Go ahead," he told her.

"That's all there was to it."

"You saw the officer. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Did he look at you?"

"Yes."

"What did you do? Did you walk rapidly?"

"No," she said.

"Think again," Perry Mason told her. "You were almost running when I saw you. You were walking as though you were trying to win a walking race. Now, are you sure you didn't do that when the officer saw you?"

"Yes."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I wasn't walking at all."

"Oh, you stopped then?"

"Yes."

Perry Mason stared steadily at her and then said slowly and not unkindly, "You mean that when you suddenly saw the officer you turned faint. You stopped, perhaps put your hand to your throat, or something of that sort. Then you turned to look into a store window. Is that it?"

She nodded her head.

Thelma Bell slipped an arm around Marjorie Clune's shoulder.

"Lay off the kid," she said.

"What I'm doing," Perry Mason told Thelma Bell, "is for her own good. You understand that, Marjorie. You must understand that. I'm your friend. I'm here to represent you. There's a possibility that the officers may come here even before I've finished talking with you. Therefore, it's important to know just exactly what happened, and to have you tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth."

"You're telling the truth about not getting into that apartment?"

"Of course. I went to the apartment and couldn't get in."

"Did you hear any one moving around in there? Did you hear any one screaming? Any one having hysterics? Any one making reference to lucky legs?"

"No," she said.

"Then you came back down the elevator and out to the sidewalk?"

"Yes."

"And you're positive you didn't get in that apartment?"

"Positive."

Perry Mason sighed and turned to Thelma Bell.

"How about you, Thelma?" he said.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Me?" she asked in a tone of polite surprise.

"Sure, you," Perry Mason said, with a savage drive to his voice.

"Well," Thelma Bell said, "I'll bite. What about me?"

"You know what I mean," Perry Mason said. "Were you at the apartment tonight?"

"You mean Frank Patton's apartment?"

"Yes."

"Certainly not."

Perry Mason regarded her with calm appraisal, as though considering just what sort of an impression she would make on the witness stand.

"Tell me some more, Thelma," he said.

"I was out with a boy friend," she told him.

Perry Mason raised his eyebrows.

"Good girl," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"For coming home so early."

"That's my business," she told him.

Perry Mason regarded the toes of his shoes with casual interest.

"Yes," he said, "it's your business."

There was a period of silence. Perry Mason suddenly faced Marjorie Clune.

"Did you girls have an appointment with Frank Patton tonight?" he asked.

They looked at each other and raised their eyebrows.

"An appointment with Frank Patton?" said Marjorie Clune, as though it was a physical impossibility for her to believe her ears.

Perry Mason nodded.

The young women exchanged glances, then laughed in highpitched, patronizing amusement.

"Don't be silly," said Marjorie Clune.

Perry Mason settled back in the chair. His features were utterly without expression. His eyes were calm and tranquil.

"All right," he said, "I was trying to give you a break. If you don't want to take it, there's nothing I can do except sit here with you and wait for the police."

He lapsed into a calm, meditative silence.

"Why should the police come here?" asked Thelma Bell.

"Because they will know Margy is here."

"How will they know?"

"They'll find out the same way I did."

"How did you find out?"

He yawned, stifled the yawn with four fingers gently patting his lips, and, as he yawned, shook his head, but made no audible comment.

Marjorie Clune's glance toward Thelma Bell was distinctly uneasy.

"What will the police do?" said Marjorie Clune.

"Plenty," said Perry Mason grimly.

"Look here," said Thelma Bell suddenly, "you can't put this kid in a spot like that."

"What kind of a spot?" Perry Mason asked.

"Get her involved in a murder and stand by and not do anything to protect her."

The mask of patient tranquillity dropped from Perry Mason. He flexed his muscles. His eyes became hard, like the eyes of a cat slumbering in the sun who suddenly sees a bird hop unwarily to an overhanging branch.

"How did you know it was a murder, Thelma?" he asked, straightening in the chair and swinging about so that his hard eyes bored steadily into hers.

She gasped, recoiled slightly, and said with quivering lips, "Why, why you acted that way. From something you said, I guess."

He laughed grimly.

"Now listen," he said, "you can either take this from me or you can take it from the police. You girls had an appointment with Frank Patton tonight. Marjorie called up and left her telephone number. It was this number. The police will trace the number and come out here. Also, Margy telephoned a message Patton got just before he arrived at the Holliday Apartments, telling him to tell Thelma that she would be about twenty minutes late.

"Both of you girls have won contests that Frank Patton put on; both of you have been chosen as having the most beautiful legs in a small town. One of you, at any rate, has been referred to in the newspapers as having lucky legs—probably both of you. It's a line of publicity that Patton hands out to the local press.

"Now, there was a girl in the bathroom at Frank Patton's apartment who was having hysterics about her legs. She kept using the word 'lucky legs.

"I saw Marjorie Clune leaving Frank Patton's apartment house. She says she didn't see him. That's what she says. Perhaps she did and perhaps she didn't. The police are going to be very interested in finding out. Their methods of finding out are going to be quite direct and not very pleasant.

"I'm the only friend you kids have got in the whole world so far as this business is concerned. I'm trying to help you. I've had the experience and I have the knowledge. You won't accept my help. You sit there and arch your eyebrows at each other and exclaim, 'What? Us go to see Frank Patton? Ha, ha, ha! Don't be silly.

"Then I come up to the apartment and find both of you girls in a lather of cleanliness. You've got bathtub hysteria. You can't get into the bathtub quick enough. You've drawn two baths, and one of you has hardly jumped out of the bathtub before the other jumps in."

"What's wrong with that?" demanded Marjorie Clune aggressively. "I guess we can take baths if we want them."

"Oh, certainly," Mason remarked. "Except that the police will see the evidences of those baths this early in the evening and wonder if you didn't have some reason for taking them."

"What reason could we possibly have for taking a bath that the police would be interested in?" Marjorie Clune demanded in that same haughty tone she had used previously.