Erle Gardner - The Case of the Substitute Face

“Committed suicide?” Mason asked.

She nodded.

“What do you think?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m afraid... That would leave Belle in the clear, wouldn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“They couldn’t do anything about that embezzlement, could they?”

“They can’t arrest a dead man, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, that’s what I meant.”

“If Carl left any money, they could go after that.”

“How about the insurance? Could they touch it?”

“How much insurance?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“In whose favor?”

“Mine.”

“Taken out when?”

“Two months ago.”

Mason said, “Look here, Mrs. Newberry, if it should appear your husband had embezzled money, would you want to make reimbursement to the company out of the insurance?”

“No, not unless I had to.”

“I asked the question,” Mason said drily, “to get your viewpoint. The policy doubtless contains a clause making it void if suicide takes place within one year from the date of the policy.”

There was dismay in her eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, Mr. Mason, let’s go up on deck. Please stay with me.”

Mason opened the-stateroom door. They started down the corridor and were nearing the stairs when Della Street swung around the corner and almost ran into them. A cloak over her shoulders dripped rivulets of water. Beneath the edge of a beret, tendrils of hair were plastered to the sides of her head.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Chief,” she said.

“I was up on deck,” he told her, “but a man fell overboard and I came...”

“I know,” she interrupted. “Good Lord, I was frightened! You said you’d be up on the promenade deck, and I couldn’t find you. I suppose you dashed down to Mrs. Newberry?”

“Yes,” he said.

She raised her eyes to his significantly. “I wanted to see you first , Chief.”

An officer came running along the corridor. “Will the passengers kindly go to their cabins at once,” he called out, “and stay there until you’re summoned. A man’s overboard. We’re doing everything that can be done. Passengers will simply be in the way. The purser is making a roll call, to find out who’s missing.”

Mason took Mrs. Newberry’s arm and turned her back toward the cabin. “After all,” he said, “that’s probably the best thing to do.”

“But I can’t stand this suspense,” she told him. “I can’t simply wait in the cabin.”

Mason lowered his voice and said, “You don’t want Belle to be known as the daughter of an embezzler, do you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“How would you like it,” Mason asked, “if she were the daughter of a murderer?”

“But I don’t understand...”

“Can’t you see?” Mason interrupted. “You don’t dare do anything which would attract attention to Carl. So far as you’re concerned, you’re going to act just like any other passenger.”

She hesitated a moment, then turned and started back toward the cabin. Della Street crowded close to Perry Mason. “Are you going to represent her?” she asked. “If she’s mixed up in what happened on deck?”

Mason nodded. “ She isn’t mixed up in anything. I won’t represent her husband, but I’ll see her through.”

“I wish you hadn’t told her that,” Della said.

Mrs. Newberry paused at the sound of their whispered voices. “Is there,” she asked, turning toward them anxiously, “anything I should know? Anything you’re keeping from me?”

Della Street smiled reassuringly and said, “No.”

Mason held the cabin door open and was about to go in the room after them, when he heard running steps, and Belle Newberry, holding the skirt of her evening dress up over her arm, came running into the corridor, staggered, swayed, was flung against the wall as the ship rolled, pushed herself upright, and came running once more.

“Oh, Mr. Mason!” she called. “Is Mother in there?”

Mason nodded, held the door open for her, and, when she had entered, closed it. “Oh, Moms,” Belle said, “someone’s overboard! I was so frightened. I thought perhaps... Where’s Pops, Mumsy?... I’m sopping wet, I ran out looking for him and couldn’t find him!”

“Oh, he’ll be along in a minute,” Mrs. Newberry said.

“Where is he now ?”

“He went up to see someone — at the bar probably”

“But, Mumsy, someone’s overboard. He went upstairs, and I’ve dashed madly all over the ship, out on deck, and...”

Mrs. Newberry said, “Now, don’t be a foolish little girl, Belle. You know your father wouldn’t go out on deck in this weather, and, if he did, he’d be far too careful to fall overboard. It’s probably someone from the second class or the steerage, someone who’d been drinking too much.”

“Well, where is Pops? He should be here. They’re sending all passengers back to their staterooms.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Newberry remarked, taking a carved ivory cigarette case from her purse. “And Carl is lost in the jam of people on the stairways. You know perfectly well he’s not one to elbow his way. No, thank you, Mr. Mason, I have a match. Don’t bother.”

She scratched a match with a deft motion and held it to the cigarette. Her hand trembled slightly.

Belle Newberry, standing in the doorway, said, “I wish Pops would come... Good Lord, where’s Roy?”

“In his stateroom, probably,” Mason said.

“I’ll be back,” she told them, and dashed out into the corridor.

Mrs. Newberry came over to join Mason and Della Street in front of the porthole. Searchlights sent beams crisscrossing out over the water. Floating flares tossed up and down on the angry waves. Mrs. Newberry put her hand on Mason’s shoulder. “I can’t bear to think of any human being out in that awful ocean. I... ” She broke off, choked back a sob and walked away.

Mason continued to stand at the porthole, staring moodily out at the tossing water. His legs, spread wide apart, braced his body against the motion of the ship.

With the slowing engines, sounds had been intensified, the creak of the ship, the rush of waves against the sides, the pound of feet running along the decks.

Della Street walked across the stateroom, to look down the corridor, and said, “The captain and the purser are coming this way, Chief... Here’s Belle... Was he all right, Belle?”

Belle Newberry nodded breathlessly. “... Lord, what a scare!... Yes... He’s sitting in his stateroom... Where’s Dad, Moms? ”

Her mother said, “He’ll be along any minute, Belle.”

The captain and the purser pushed past Della Street and into the cabin.

“I’m sorry,” the captain said, “I’m Performing an unpleasant duty. You people know why we’ve turned around, don’t you?”

“We’d heard there was a man overboard, ” Mrs. Newberry said.

“Yes,” the captain said. “When did you last see your husband, Mrs. Newberry?”

“Why, I left him right after dinner.”

“Where?”

“He came to the stateroom with me, then left almost immediately. Why, Captain? Tell me, you don’t... Have you... That is...”

The captain said grimly, “We think your husband’s missing. Do you know anything about it?”

“Why, what do you mean?”

The captain glanced at the purser. “Mrs. Newberry, are you absolutely certain you haven’t seen your husband since he left this stateroom?”

“Why, yes, of course.”

“And you came directly here to your stateroom after you left the dining saloon?”

“That’s right.”