Erle Gardner - The Case of the Substitute Face

Mason shook his head. “You’re all wet, Eves.”

Eves said, “I may be all wet, but I’m telling you what happened. That’s the God’s truth.”

“How do you know?” Mason asked.

“I’ve put two and two together. Don’t forget that Fell woman saw the whole business.”

“I don’t think she saw as much as she thinks she did,” Mason said. “Your wife’s testimony will put my client in the clear. The question is, do I get it?”

Eves said, “You get it. But I’ll tell you something else. You’re going to run into a surprise on this case, and they’re going to convict your client. I’m giving it to you straight. He would have croaked himself if his wife had let him alone, but she beat him to the punch.”

“I’ll take my chance on that,” Mason said.

“You’re going to run up against some surprise testimony,” Eves insisted.

“What testimony?” Mason asked.

Eves glanced across at his wife. “Think we’d better tell him?” he asked.

She shook her head and said, “Not if he doesn’t know.”

“Okay,” Eves said, “you don’t know, so we don’t tell you.”

“You tell your story on the witness stand,” Mason said to the nurse, “and I’ll guarantee no jury is ever going to convict Mrs. Moar, no matter how much surprise testimony they bring in.”

“You don’t know what this surprise testimony is,” Eves said.

“That’s right, I don’t, do I?” Mason grinned.

“How about it?” Eves asked his wife.

She shook her head.

Eves said, “All right, that’s twice I got the red signal. We’ll quit talking about it.”

Mason said, “There are a couple of things I want to clean up. Did you send a note to Moar telling him to come on deck?”

“Me?” Evelyn asked.

Mason nodded.

“Good heavens, no,” she said. “I did leave an envelope on the purser’s desk. I was paying the chits I’d signed on shipboard.”

“That’s probably it,” Mason said. “One of the room stewards saw you leaving an envelope. So much for that. Now, how about the patient you brought over with you? What happened to him?”

She flashed Eves a swift glance.

Eves said, “He doesn’t enter into it. He didn’t hear the conversation. He had a broken neck and paid Evelyn for bringing him over. She ran into a little trouble. He wanted to hold out some of the money, but she brought him up to my place. His relatives were to come up there and get him. I sent Evelyn up here so it wouldn’t cramp my style. After the cheap chiselers saw they were dealing with someone who knew the ropes they didn’t make any more trouble. They paid up nice and sweet.”

“Where’s Cartman now?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know,” Eves said, “and what’s more I don’t give a damn. His friends took him. I do know they’d never have moved him if they hadn’t kicked through and lived up to the agreement they made with Evelyn.”

Mason took a folded, blank subpoena from his pocket. “All right,” he said, “I’m going to subpoena you. How do you want the subpoena made — to Evelyn Whiting or Evelyn Eves?”

“Better make it Evelyn Whiting,” Eves said. “My interlocutory ain’t final yet. I suppose they could punch the marriage full of holes if they wanted to, and the D.A.’d probably like to get something on me. It’ll help your case a lot more if I don’t enter into it. I’ve got a record a yard and a half long, in case you don’t know it.

“I know it,” Mason said.

“Okay,” Eves told him. “Remember this, Mason, we could have closed up on you like a clam and you’d have been out on the end of a limb. I’m giving you a break. Don’t forget it.”

Mason filled in the subpoena.

“And don’t think this is going to be a downhill pull,” Eves said. “If the D.A. uses his head you’re up against the toughest proposition you ever tackled.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Mason told him. “I’ll take a chance. Evelyn Whiting, you’re subpoenaed to appear tomorrow morning at ten o’clock A.M., or as soon thereafter as Counsel can be heard, as a witness for the Defense in the preliminary hearing in the case of the People of the State of California vs. Anna Moar.”

“Okay,” Eves said. “That’s all in due and regular form. Now you guys get to hell out of here. I’m on my honeymoon.”

As Mason entered the lobby of the hotel, he said to Paul Drake, “Paul, I’ve been doing a little thinking. I’m uneasy about this Eves business.”

“Why?” Drake asked. “Eves is a crook. He respects you because you’re a mouthpiece. He’ll go the limit for you. Moar’s statement to Evelyn Whiting gives you everything you need in front of a jury. Even if his wife did beat the gun and bump him off, you’re never going to get a jury to bring in a verdict against her — not after Evelyn Whiting tells her story.”

Mason said, “Just the same, Paul, I want you to look up Roger P. Cartman, find out all about the automobile accident in which he was injured over on the Islands, find out who his friends were, and find out where he is now.”

“Okay,” Drake said, “I’ll get busy on it right away.”

Mason paused at the desk for his key. The clerk handed him a key and several messages. Looking them over, Mason found they were messages of his calls to Della Street.

“Hasn’t Miss Street come in yet ?” he asked the clerk.

The clerk said, “I don’t think so.

Mason strode toward the elevator. “Come on, boy,” he said to the operator, “shake a leg. See how quickly you can get this crate to the fifth floor.”

They emerged on the fifth floor. Mason strode down the corridor, fitted the key to the lock, flung the door open. “She hasn’t been here since morning,” he said. “Look here, Paul, something’s happened to her.”

“She left under her own power,” Drake pointed out.

“But she’d have come back or left a message,” Mason said. “For God’s sake, do something. Don’t stand there gawking at me.”

“What do you want me to do?” Drake asked.

“Get on the phone,” Mason said. “Start your men covering the city. Check the automobile accidents. Cover the ambulance calls. Check through the hospitals. Give me some action .”

Drake nodded, ran through the connecting door to his room and started putting through calls.

Mason’s telephone rang. The lawyer scooped it up, placed the receiver to his ear, said, “Hello,” and heard Belle Newberry’s voice saying, “Is that you, Mr. Mason?”

“Yes. Where are you, Belle?”

“At my hotel. I’ve been calling you all afternoon. They let me out when they knew you were getting a writ of habeas corpus .”

“Have you heard anything from Della?” Mason asked.

“No. I’ve been ringing the hotel every half hour. No one’s answered. I didn’t want to leave any message because I was afraid some newspaper reporters might get hold of it, and I’m dodging them.”

“Jump in a cab and come on up here,” Mason said. “I want to talk with you.”

He hung up the receiver, walked through the suite of rooms to Della Street’s bedroom, then retraced his steps and went through to Drake’s room. Drake had just finished putting through telephone calls.

“Okay, Perry,” Drake said. “If anything’s happened to her, I’ll have a report within half an hour.”

“If anything’s happened to her,” Mason said, “half an hour’s too long.”

“Well, I’ll get it just as soon as the information’s available. I told the office to put on as many extra men as they needed. It’ll take a little while to get them all working, but we’ll cover the city with a fine-tooth comb. We’ll know within five minutes if there’s been any accident reported of if she’s in the emergency hospital.”