Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Fenced-In Woman

“And when the coroner’s office gets here, explain that I’m very anxious indeed to get the exact time of death. I want to know just as much as we can about that — postmortem lividity, body temperature. Find out when food was last ingested, check the contents of stomach and the large intestine. In short, get me everything possible on the time of death... And now if you’re quite ready, Mr. Mason, I think we’ll go over and call on Mrs. Carson. I’ll let you perform the introductions and after that, I’ll thank you to refrain from any interruption until I have asked a few questions about your activities. Now, how do we go?”

“We go out the front door, down the driveway and around the big post with the wires anchored to it,” Mason said.

“We can’t get out around the swimming pool?” Tragg asked.

“Not around that way. It’s a very deep lot. The barbed-wire fence goes right across the patio, crosses the surface of the swimming pool, goes across the tiled sun deck on the other side, and then down the hill for at least a couple of hundred feet.”

“When she put up a fence, she put up a good one,” Tragg said.

“I have reason to believe the purpose of the fence was to subject Morley Eden to the greatest amount of annoyance possible,” Mason said.

“Well, it seems to have been rather effective,” Tragg said. “I can’t imagine someone living in a house with a taut, heavy-gauge barbed-wire fence running right through the middle of it... But come. Mason, we’re delaying matters, and somehow I have an idea that any delay is playing right into your hands. What did you tell Mrs. Carson?”

“I told her her husband had been murdered.”

“Did you indeed,” Tragg said. “Now that’s very unfortunate. You know, Mason, the police like to be the ones who make announcements of that sort, and then we can see from the expression of surprise, regret or otherwise, just how the person takes the news. Sometimes we get very valuable clues that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Mason said, “but I thought she should know.”

“You took it upon yourself to be a committee of one to tell her?”

“No,” Mason said, “I went in that side of the house just to see if the murderer might be hiding there and she came in and... well, she caught me by surprise.”

“By surprise, eh? What were you doing?”

“Just getting ready to look around. No, come to think of it, I believe I was using the phone.”

“Using the telephone?” Tragg said. “Well now, that’s interesting. Let’s see. The newspaper reporters were here. Evidently they came out to cover the story of the action for fraud on the house that was divided by a barbed-wire fence.

“When they saw that body lying there, that was a news dividend which must have made them think they’d hit the jackpot. I presume there was a brief period of inspection while photographers were messing around, and then the reporters dashed for the telephones and tied up every available telephone in sight. So you wanted to get to a telephone for reasons of your own, and all of the accessible telephones were taken... I wonder if Mrs. Carson heard any part of your conversation.”

“You’ll have to ask her,” Mason said.

“I certainly will,” Tragg said, his eyes twinkling. “Please don’t let me overlook that point, Mason. If it should slip my mind, just nudge me and call it to my attention, will you? And now if you’re quite ready, we’ll go across and meet Mrs. Carson.”

“May I ask if any of the keys on Carson’s key ring fit the doors of the house?”

“I can’t tell you about that until I’ve tried them carefully,” Tragg said, “but several of them seem to be identical. I think Mr. Carson probably did retain keys to the place. However, we’ll make a more thorough test of the keys a little later on. Right now, if you don’t mind, Mason, I’d like very much to have you introduce me to Mrs. Carson.”

Tragg cupped his hand under Mason’s elbow, kept pace with him as they walked back up the stairs and out of the front door.

“We have to go all around that fence at the end?” Tragg asked.

“That’s right,” Mason said.

“Well, I think we can make better time in a car. Here’s one blocking the driveway. Is that by any chance yours, Mason?”

“That’s mine.”

Tragg held open the car door. The group of reporters held in one place by the officer surged forward insistently. “Lieutenant, when are we going to have a chance to interview you?” one of the men called.

“In just a short time,” Tragg said reassuringly. “I’m going to ask you boys to be patient. You’ve already photographed the scene and telephoned in your stories. I’ll let you have news just as soon as there’s any news to give you — provided, of course, it doesn’t interfere with apprehending the murderer.”

“Any ideas?” one of the men asked.

“I don’t think I care to be interviewed at the present time.”

“Where are you taking Mason? What’s the idea?”

Tragg said in a low voice, “Come on, Mason, get that motor going. Let’s be moving along.”

The lawyer started the motor.

Tragg waved his hand reassuringly to the newspaper reporters. “You’ll have to wait there a few minutes, boys,” he said. “We don’t want to have you messing up the evidence.”

They drove around the fence post up the other side of the divided driveway.

“That fence certainly makes it inconvenient, doesn’t it?” Tragg said.

“Very.”

“If there hadn’t been a double driveway, one going to the front door and one going to the side door, it would have been very annoying.”

“I think it’s quite annoying even the way it is,” Mason volunteered.

“Yes, I dare say it is. Now, Mason, did you use this key to the side door?”

“I used it.”

“Did you have permission from the owner?”

“I had permission from the owner. Morley Eden is the owner.”

“Well now, that’s subject to question. I believe there’s a decree of some sort, you said?”

“An interlocutory judgment which is not a final disposition of the matter,” Mason said, “and then, of course, there’s always the right of appeal. I prefer to reach my own legal conclusions from all the facts.”

“Hmm-n,” Tragg said, “a typical lawyer’s answer.”

Mason parked the car in front of the side door.

“There was, I believe, a restraining order?” Tragg asked.

“I violated the restraining order,” Mason said, “there’s no question about that. That, however, is a matter between Judge Goodwin and me.”

“I see,” Tragg said. “I’m just getting the facts straight. Now if you don’t mind, Mason, we’ll first try this key to the door just so I can check on your story. It’s not that I doubt your word at all, but I may have to testify in court later on, and you have a most devastating type of cross-examination, you know.”

Tragg, keeping up a running fire of conversation, tried the key in the door, clicked back the lock, opened the door, then pulled it shut and pressed his finger against the bell.

Chimes sounded on the inside of the house.

A few moments later the door was opened by Vivian Carson.

“Mrs. Carson,” Mason said, “this is Lieutenant Tragg of Homicide. He would like to—”

Tragg interposed his shoulders between Mason and the woman.

“Would like to ask a few questions,” Tragg finished with his most engaging smile. “I must warn you that anything you say may be held against you and you do not have to answer without benefit of counsel. But I can assure you, Mrs. Carson, we sympathize with you and we’re going to make this just as painless as possible. Now just where were you at the time the murder was committed?”