Erle Gardner - The Case of the Runaway

“And Mr. Stanton didn’t ask for any long-distance service?”

“Not while I was here, and I’m certain he didn’t get any because there wasn’t any on the bill.”

“But he could have gone to the booths in the lobby and put through a call?”

“Oh yes.”

“And that wouldn’t have been noticed?”

“No, not at all.”

Mason said, “Well, I’ll put through a call myself. I guess.”

He was smiling cheerfully as he entered the telephone booth, dropped a coin, and asked to be connected with the sheriff’s office. After the connection had been made he insisted on talking to the person in charge and when he had the undersheriff on the line, said, “I’m Perry Mason, an attorney. I came up here to consult with my client, Mrs. Edward Davenport. You have her incarcerated. I want to talk with her.”

“You … you … you’re Perry Mason?”

“That’s right.”

The voice suddenly became suave. “And where are you now, Mr. Mason?”

Mason said, “I’m at the Welchburg Motel and I’m going to get a taxi to come to your office. I want to talk with my client.”

“Well, now. Mr. Mason, you don’t need to bother at all,” the voice said. “We try to be hospitable up here and we’ll provide you with transportation. You stay right where you are and you’ll have a car within five minutes.”

“Within five minutes?”

“Well, maybe less,” the voice told him. “Just a moment, please, I’ll see what I can do. Hold the line.”

There was some thirty seconds of silence, then the voice was back on the line. “We’ll have a car there for you, Mr. Mason. We’ve been looking for you.”

“Have you indeed?” Mason said.

“Yes. You went to Mr. Davenport’s house in Paradise, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“You didn’t?” the voice asked incredulously.

“No.” Mason said. “I went to Mrs . Davenport’s house, and in case you’re interested in finding out about the contents of the envelope I suggest that you interrogate Mabel Norge, Mr. Davenport’s secretary. Incidentally, in case you’re interested any further, Mr. Davenport stayed here the night before his death, at the Welchburg Motel. He was registered under the name of Frank L. Stanton.”

“You’re sure?” the officer asked.

“The description fits, also the license number of the car.”

“Why are you giving us that information?” the officer inquired.

“Good heavens!” Mason exclaimed in surprise. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?”

“No, I guess not. We felt you might be just as happy if we didn’t share your information.”

“What gave you that idea? There’s a car with a red light turning in the driveway. I suppose that’s my transportation. You got it here pretty fast.”

“We try to work fast, Mr. Mason,” the undersheriff said. “It just happened we had a radio car cruising in your neighborhood and just oddly enough they were making a canvass of the various motels trying to find where Mr. Davenport had stayed.”

“Well, I’m glad I saved you some trouble,” Mason said, and hung up as two broad-shouldered deputy sheriffs pushed their way into the lobby.

Chapter 8

The police car pulled in to the curb and as Mason was escorted into the building, a tall man with a good-natured grin came forward and extended his hand.

“Perry Mason?”

“That’s right.” Mason said, taking the proffered hand.

“I’m Talbert Vandling,” the man said. “I’m the district attorney here in Fresno. Looks as though I’m going to be trying a murder case with you on the other side.”

Mason sized the man up. The cool, steady eyes, the easy, relaxed affability which emanated from him.

“I think,” he said, “you might be rather a dangerous antagonist.”

“I’d try to be,” Vandling told him. “Now what’s all this about you opening a letter up in Butte County?”

“Am I supposed to have opened a letter?” Mason asked.

“The D.A. up there thinks you did.”

“Was it a crime?”

“Well,” Vandling said, “that depends on how you look at it.”

Mason smiled at him. “I take it you have troubles of your own down here in your county.”

“You can say that again.”

“Then I take it it won’t be necessary for you to borrow any problems from Butte County in order to keep yourself comfortably busy.”

Vandling threw back his head and laughed.

Mason said, “I understand you’re holding Mrs. Edward Davenport here. She’s my client. I want to talk with her and advise her as to her rights.”

The smile left Vandling’s face. “There are some things about that case I can’t understand, Mason. Now I don’t want to prosecute anyone who isn’t guilty. According to her story she knows nothing about the murder. In other words, she’s innocent.”

Mason nodded.

“Unfortunately,” Vandling said, “there are some circumstances which make it impossible for me to accept her story at face value.”

“How about the corpse climbing out of the window?” Mason asked.

“That’s one of the things I was coming to,” Vandling said. “I’m going to put my cards on the table and I’d like to have you put your cards on the table.”

“Well,” Mason said, “let’s not do it all at once. You put down one of your cards and I’ll see if I can match it.”

“All right,” Vandling said. “The police made an investigative blunder. I’ll be perfectly frank in telling you that.”

“How come?”

“The man who saw the figure, apparently clad in pajamas, climb out of the window and drive away has slipped through our fingers.”

“How did that happen?”

“He gave a fictitious address and presumably a false name to the officers.”

“And the officers let it go at that?”

Vandling said, “Figure it out for yourself. He was registered there at this motel. He wasn’t alone. The couple was registered as husband and wife. He told the officers about having seen the figure in pajamas getting out of the window and driving away in the automobile. The officers asked for his name and address. He gave them the name and the address under which he was registered. The officers checked that. They found that he’d registered the night before under that name and they let it go at that. They didn’t ask to see his driving license. They didn’t check the number of his car. They didn’t ask for any identification. It was a hell of a blunder. The only reason they were so lax was because at that time they felt certain there wasn’t any corpse, that a man who had been locked in was making a getaway from an unattractive wife.”

Mason’s eyes hardened. “Go on.” he said.

“Evidently this man started doing a lot of second thinking. He realized that if he was going to be a witness his real identity and perhaps that of his companion would come out. So he got away from there fast.”

“And the officers don’t know who he is?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea. They have the name that he gave them, but I’m pretty certain it isn’t his right name. The address is fictitious and the license number of the automobile that he put on his motel registration was false.”

“How do you know?”

“We’ve checked the owner of the automobile that’s registered under that license. He’s in the southern part of the state, he’s married, has a family, and there’s no question that he isn’t the man we want. Moreover, he hasn’t left his home in the past forty-eight hours and neither has his automobile. He hasn’t loaned the car to anyone and it couldn’t possibly have been up here in this part of the state.”

Mason said, “That man in the motel has become the most valuable witness for the defense.”