Erle Gardner - The Case of the Moth-Eaten Mink

“What sort of a tangent?”

“Well, for a while there they had talked — oh, just casually. Alburg said, ‘I want you to tell him just what you told me. I want you to be frank with him. He’s my lawyer and everything is going to be all right. Now I’m telling you everything is going to be all right. You’ll be taken care of and all that.’ ”

“And then what?”

“Then Alburg began to worry and said that you might have gone back to sleep, so he told the girl to call you, and there was silence for a moment, and then the girl said in a low voice, ‘Call the police.’

“A second later the phone rang and the girl laughed and said, apparently into the telephone, ‘Of course not — just a gag. Forget it,’ and hung up.

“After that I heard sounds of motion. Someone would start to say something and stop suddenly in mid-sentence.”

“What sort of sounds of motion?” Mason asked.

“I can’t very well describe it.”

“Struggle?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that — peculiar sounds.”

“Then what?”

“I heard the woman say, ‘Just lipstick. You ruined my mouth,’ and then a little while later a door opened and closed.”

“Then what?”

“Then nothing else. There was five seconds of silence and then everything clicked off.”

“Then what?”

“Then after ten or fifteen minutes there were more voices, and these were different people. There was a man and a woman, and the woman said, ‘I tell you she left a message somewhere,’ and the man said, ‘We haven’t time to look for it. How did she leave it?’ and the woman said, ‘Probably written in lipstick,’ and the man said, ‘Give me your lipstick and I’ll fix that.’ ”

“Then what?”

“Then more sounds and again the equipment went silent.”

“And after that?”

“After that you came, Mr. Mason, and I guess you know as much about what happened then as anyone. When I heard you telephone for Paul Drake and tell him to get someone on the job, I decided it was time for me to get out. Things were getting a little bit too hot. It certainly wasn’t the ordinary kind of an assignment I was called in on, and I heard you mention things that disturbed me a lot. I — well, I felt that if I got out no one would know I’d been in there. They would feel that the equipment was registering all by itself.”

Mason nodded.

“It wasn’t until after I got home,” Fulda said, “that I realized what an utterly asinine thing I’d done. I’d taken the recorded discs with me.”

“You mean you’d filled up more than one record?”

“No, but, without thinking, I slipped in a fresh disc when I left so the machine would be loaded with a fresh one. We get to do that so it’s almost second nature. You want to have it so the machine is fully loaded at all times. There’s enough on there to cover a two-hour-and-thirty-minute recording when it’s full, and — well, I didn’t want to have any slip-ups.

“That’s one thing about the machine that they haven’t been able to lick as yet. Suppose it’s on automatic, and you come in and have a talk with someone at ten o’clock at night. You go out and close the door. Five seconds later the equipment clicks off. Then at three o’clock in the morning someone comes in and opens the door and starts talking. The sound even of people moving around in the room immediately actuates the relay switch and turns the machinery on and it starts recording... Now, when I play that disc back to a client, it will sound as though there was a continuing conversation except for a five-second pause. There’ll be nothing to show that one conversation took place at ten o’clock in the evening, and the next conversation, which apparently follows right along with it, took place at three o’clock in the morning. That’s one of the reasons why you should monitor the equipment... Well, that’s the story.”

“And what are you so frightened about?”

“I felt that if no one found out the room was wired I could go back and get my equipment out, but that if it should be discovered the room was wired — well, Morris had told me he was keeping under cover and — well, there were complications. Sometimes the police don’t like to have us move in and wire a hotel that way. It’s always advisable, wherever possible, to use a private office somewhere rather than a public hotel... And if it became a police case they’d know I had been there because they could listen back on the discs and find out when the conversation started.

“I assumed the police would know, for instance, that you entered that room, and about what time — and the night clerk saw me go out. If it became a police case I’d be in a mess.”

“All right,” Mason told him. “It’s a police case. You’re in a mess.”

The aroma of freshly made coffee came from the kitchen and penetrated to the living room.

Mason motioned to the telephone. “Call Police Headquarters.”

Fulda hesitated. “I’m in so deep now, I...”

“Call Police Headquarters. Ask for Homicide Squad. See if Lieutenant Tragg is still on the job. Tell him your story.”

“How should I explain the fact that I’m calling Homicide?”

“Tell them I told you to,” Mason said.

Fulda hesitated.

From the door between the kitchen and the dining room his wife’s voice said sharply, “You heard what Mr. Mason said, Arthur. He knows best.”

Fulda glanced at Paul Drake. Drake’s countenance was completely wooden.

“Well—” Fulda said reluctantly, and walked over to the telephone.

He called Police Headquarters, asked for Lieutenant Tragg, learned that Tragg was not in and left his name and telephone number. “Tell Lieutenant Tragg to call me as soon as he comes in,” he said. “He— Well, I prefer to talk with Lieutenant Tragg. It’s about some sound equipment and... That’s right, that’s the place. The Keymont Hotel... That’s right, I’ll be right here. Tell him to call me. I’ll be waiting right by the phone.”

He hung up, and said to Mason, “I hope that was the right thing to do.”

Mason, who had been standing at the front window, turned and said over his shoulder, “I’ve just saved your license for you, you damn fool. Lieutenant Tragg is just parking his police car at the curb. That call will save your life.”

“Lieutenant Tragg!” Fulda exclaimed. “How in the world did he get here this soon?”

“He probably located you the way I told you he would,” Mason said.

Steps pounded on the porch. The chimes sounded on the door. Mason turned the knob and pulled the door open. “Walk right in, Lieutenant,” he said. “You’re just in time for coffee.”

Tragg’s face darkened. “What the hell are you doing here, Mason?”

“Asking questions.”

“All right,” Tragg said, “you’ve asked the questions. I’ll get the answers... Your name Fulda?” he asked the man back of Mason.

“That’s right,” Fulda said.

“You wired 721 and 725 in the Keymont Hotel?”

Fulda nodded. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, Lieutenant. I called Homicide Squad and left a message.”

Tragg’s mouth was grim. “Let’s hope,” he said, “for your sake, that you did, because it’s going to mean all the difference in the world in the way you get treated.”

“You can ring up and find out that I did,” Fulda said.

“In that case, that’s the one only really smart move you’ve made so far,” Tragg said.

Mrs. Fulda appeared from the kitchen, smiling somewhat nervously. “Good morning, Lieutenant. I’m Mrs. Fulda. I’m just making some coffee for the gentlemen, and perhaps if you’d...”

“I’ll drink all of it,” Tragg said. “The gentlemen are leaving. They can get their coffee at a restaurant.”