Erle Gardner - The Case of the Runaway

“Why did we?” Della Street asked.

“We did because of that telephone call, which, incidentally, must have been received some time after Davenport’s death. Let’s have a look at the detective’s report.”

She handed him the typewritten sheet.

Pursuant to instructions received over the telephone at approximately nine-fifteen on the evening of the eleventh from Edward Davenport who telephoned from Fresno, California, identified himself and arranged for the employment, I drove to San Bernardino on the evening of the twelfth to cover unit thirteen of the Pacific Palisades Motor Court.I arrived at San Bernardino at approximately 1:00 A.M. on the morning of the thirteenth. The Pacific Palisades Motor Court had a sign announcing that there were no vacancies. I parked my automobile in such a position that I could watch the entrance to unit thirteen and kept watch until approximately ten-thirty in the morning, during which time I was on the job personally making absolutely certain that anyone who entered or left unit thirteen would be under surveillance.At approximately ten-thirty on the morning of the thirteenth I noticed a maid enter the unit with a passkey, after first knocking. The maid had a portable unit containing bed linens, towels, etc., and had been previously engaged in making up units which had been vacated.I immediately left my automobile, approached unit thirteen, and knocked on the door which had been left ajar. The maid answered the knock and I pushed my way into the unit and stated that I wanted to talk with the maid who had just made up unit ten. Inasmuch as I had seen the same maid emerge from unit ten I knew she was the one I wanted.She seemed somewhat alarmed and wanted to know my business. I pretended that I was an officer without actually telling her I was, and asked her to describe the condition in which she had found unit ten, how many people had occupied it, whether there was anything that indicated that these people had been using drugs or were engaged in the drug traffic. The maid fell for this story and talked with me at some length. I was able during the conversation to size up unit thirteen. It had not been occupied during the night. By discreet inquiries I learned that the unit had been engaged by telephone the night before and that remittance had been transmitted by telegraph. The maid did not know the name of the person engaging the unit.Cautioning the maid that under no circumstances was she to mention my visit to anyone—either her employer, her fellow employees or any occupant of the premises—I returned to my automobile and kept unit thirteen under surveillance until six o’clock that evening. I had not been instructed as to what I should do in case the unit was unoccupied, as Mr. Davenport seemed certain it would be occupied on the evening of the twelfth. My instructions were to see who called on the party early on the morning of the thirteenth, and to be on the safe side I decided to go on duty at 1:00 A.M. During this time I convinced myself that no one had checked into the unit. I had provided myself with sandwiches and thermos containers of coffee so that I did not interrupt my surveillance for eating. A conveniently located service station enabled me to keep an almost continuous watch on the unit, and during brief periods when it was out of my observation I assured myself each time that no one had entered the premises.At about six o’clock on the evening of the thirteenth, while listening to a radio newscast, I learned that Ed Davenport had died the day before, that his widow was being held on suspicion of murder, and that Mr. Perry Mason was her lawyer.Under the circumstances and since the unit was unoccupied, I determined to try another angle. I went to the telegraph office and insisted that a telegram which I had sent to the Pacific Palisades Motor Court , sending money to reserve a unit, had not been delivered. The person in charge looked up the records, asked me if I was Mr. Stanton and I assured her that I was. The employee then brought a duplicate copy, showing me that a telegraphic remittance sent by Frank L. Stanton of Fresno had been duly delivered. I apologized and left.If I can be of further service I will hold myself in readiness. I am quite certain that the unit thirteen was unoccupied during the night of the twelfth and thirteenth. Information elicited from the maid was to the effect that if anyone had occupied the cabin during the first part of the evening of the twelfth, or, in fact, at any time after four o’clock in the afternoon, the necessary service work with towels, bedding, etc., would have waited until the maids came on duty at eight-thirty the next morning.Beckemeyer Detective Service.By Jason L. Beckemeyer. “Well.” Della Street said, “that checks in with Paul Drake’s information.”

Mason nodded, said, “Now why the devil would Ed Davenport have been so anxious to find out who occupied that unit, and why did he wire funds to reserve the cabin and then hire a detective to see who occupied the place?”

“It must have been someone that he wanted to trap in some way,” Della Street said. “Or someone whose loyalty he suspected.”

“But who?”

“Looks like another job for Paul Drake.”

“It sure does.”

“Mr. Beckemeyer seems anxious to co-operate,” she said.

“Most anxious,” Mason agreed.

“And in a hurry for his money.”

“He sounds hungry. Tell you what you do, Della, send him a check. That will put him under obligations to our side.”

“Do I say anything about his offer to be of service?”

“Tell him we may call on him—later.”

“Do you want to sign the letter?”

“No, you do it. Pretend you’re sending the remittance on your own responsibility. You sign the check on the special account.”

She nodded.

“What else is in the mail? Anything?”

“Nothing too important.”

“Ring Paul Drake,” Mason said. “Ask him to come down right away if he can.”

Mason busied himself at reading the mail until Drake’s code knock sounded on the door.

Della Street admitted the detective.

Mason said, “Take a look at this, Paul.” and handed him the report of the Beckemeyer Detective Service.

Paul Drake gave the matter frowning and careful consideration.

“Well?” Mason asked.

Drake said. “You can search me. Perry.”

Mason said, “It becomes very important to find out whether Ed Davenport was actually the one who wired the money to the Pacific Palisades Motor Court. Suppose you can find out, Paul?”

“Under the circumstances it may be a little difficult. There may be a little red tape. In view of the fact that Fresno has decided it has a murder case against Myrna Davenport the authorities won’t take kindly to anyone who is digging up information having to do with Davenport. Are you absolutely certain that Frank L. Stanton and Ed Davenport are one and the same?”

“I’m not absolutely certain,” Mason said. “But I’m morally certain. The description checks and the license number of the automobile checks, but we’d better get the registration and have an expert on handwriting make a report.”

“You stopped in at that motel in Fresno?”

“That’s right. Stanton checked in early in the evening. He had two heavy suitcases with him. Presumably they contained ore from a mine and he was working on some sort of a mining deal. He was very anxious to see that the suitcases remained in his possession. He took them into the motel with him. He had also purchased a brand new traveling bag and he unwrapped that in the motel.”

“What about the suitcases?”

Mason said, “If they were in his car or in the motel at Crampton the authorities haven’t said anything about them.”