Erie Gardner: The Case of the Lazy Lover

“That’s a hell of a way for a man who’s running away with a married woman to act,” Mason said. “He didn’t show any interest in the accommodations?”

“No, while the woman made all the arrangements, he just sat there, slumped down in the seat.”

Mason said, “All right. Keep plugging on this car rental business. I want to get this girl located. I have a hunch the car was rented this morning, probably around nine o’clock, and there’s just a chance it hasn’t been turned in yet. Sprinkle enough operatives around so that when she returns the car, you can put a shadow on her.”

“Okay, Perry. I’ll get some men on the job.”

“And start covering hotels, tourist camps, motels and all the rest of it to try and find a trace of this couple,” Mason said.

Drake said irritably, “What the hell do you think we’re doing, Perry?”

“Probably thinking up some new way to pad expense accounts,” Mason said, and hung up.

It was three-thirty when Mason’s unlisted telephone rang sharply. This unlisted telephone was on Mason’s desk. Only Della Street and Paul Drake held that number, and the lawyer, scooping up the telephone, said, “Yes, Paul. What is it?”

Drake’s voice, sharp with urgency, said, “We’ve located the girl who rented the car from the drive-yourself agency, Perry!”

“Great stuff!” Mason said. “What about her?”

“She took it out about nine o’clock this morning, giving the name of Jane Smith, and a phony address in Denver,” Drake said. “She put up a large cash deposit and said she’d return the car about two this afternoon. We had that much uncovered about an hour after my men started work. I didn’t notify you because there wasn’t anything particular to go on at that time. I simply put operatives around to tail her when she drove back.”

“Go ahead,” Mason said.

“She came back a little over an hour ago,” Drake said, “and wanted to make a deal by which she could rent a car by the week. She said she was going to be living in one of the suburbs, and there wouldn’t be any great amount of mileage run up on the car, that she wanted to use it just for running back and forth. The drive-yourself agency worked out the deal with her and, of course, my men picked up her trail as soon as she left.”

“Did she have any idea she was being tailed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know yet, Perry. My men are shadowing her. I’ve got a couple of damn good men on the job and they’ll run her to earth. I just wanted to be sure you’d be standing by.”

“The same woman?”

“No question about it. The description fits to a T. It’s the only Chrysler that’s been rented to a woman who comes anywhere near answering your description. It looks like pay dirt to me.”

“It does to me too,” Mason said.

“Okay, I’ll have something most any minute now.”

The lawyer hung up and Della Street said, “Gertie says George Jerome is in the office waiting.”

“Jerome?” Mason asked, frowning.

“Mr. Allred’s partner in some mining deals. He wants to see you, but won’t say what it’s about. He says it’s highly confidential.”

Mason said, “All right. Hold everything open for that call that’s coming in from Paul Drake. As soon as we get that woman in the Chrysler located, I want to get in touch with her. Send Jerome in.”

Della Street went out to the reception room to usher Jerome into Mason’s private office.

George Jerome was plainly impatient, a man who was not accustomed to waiting anywhere for anyone. He was tall, barrel-chested, rawboned with high cheek bones and from under shaggy brows gray eyes looked out upon the world in cold appraisal.

He was perhaps fifty-five or sixty, and the man radiated awkward strength as he lumbered across the office to shake hands with Mason.

“Sit down,” the lawyer invited. “I’ve been wanting to see you.”

“What about?”

Mason smiled. “About the thing you want to see me about.”

Jerome returned the lawyer’s smile. “If you’re a mind reader, then there’s no point of my saying anything.”

Jerome settled himself in the big client’s chair and the size of the man made the chair shrink in proportion until it seemed to lose its atmosphere of deep comfort.

“What’s Allred up to?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you on that,” Mason said.

“Are you Allred’s lawyer?”

“No.”

“Whose?”

Mason said, “At this time I feel there is no need to make further concealment of the name of my client. I am Mrs. Allred’s attorney.”

“Have you actually seen Lola Allred?”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know.”

“You’ve talked with Allred?” Mason asked.

“I’ve listened to him.”

“You’re his partner?”

“In a way, yes. That is, I’m his partner in some things. We’re in process of settling up our affairs. We were supposed to have settled them Saturday. He was to have made a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. I didn’t want to act until after I’d talked with Fleetwood.”

“May I ask why?”

“He’s a bright boy. He’s been Allred’s right-hand man — but if I bought Allred out, I think Bob Fleetwood would come over to work with me. I think he would. I’d want to make certain.”

“Is he that valuable?”

“He knows lots of details no one else does.”

“Then your intention is to buy Allred out?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I might imply lots of things. Have you talked with Lola Allred personally?”

“Why do you keep coming back to that question?”

“Because you keep avoiding it.”

Mason laughed.

Jerome said, “You’re a deep one, Mason.”

The lawyer shook his head. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Jerome.”

“What will?”

“Candor.”

Jerome said, “All right, I’ll try that. I want you to get hold of Fleetwood. I want to have a secret conference with him. I want to see whether he will come over to me, pull with me, play the game my way. When I go into a business deal, I try to drive the best bargain I can. But when I make a deal, I stand by it. I’m not like Allred. He’s always squirming around. You make an agreement with him and he remembers it some other way, and he never will put anything in writing. He always says that’s up to his lawyer and his lawyer stalls along just as much as he does.

“Bob Fleetwood is a good kid. Allred says Bob ran away with his wife. If you ask me, I think it was something that was wished off on Bob. I think that Mrs. Allred may have gone for him pretty strong and, the first thing the kid knew, he was being taken for a ride. I’m not saying so, you understand, but that’s one explanation.”

“Is there another?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“The other explanation is that Mrs. Allred isn’t alive at all, and Bert is trying to account for her disappearance. You’re a lawyer. I don’t need to dot the i’ s or cross the t’ s with you, Mason. I’m giving you an idea.”

“And in that event, where would Fleetwood be?”

“Now then,” Jerome said, “you’re beginning to talk the way I want to hear you talk.”

“Yes?” Mason asked.

Jerome said, “I’m making you a proposition, Mason. If you can get me a chance to talk with Bob Fleetwood before Allred sees him, I’ll pay you a thousand dollars. And if Fleetwood sees things my way, and I’m satisfied he will, you get two thousand dollars. You hire detectives if you have to. I’ll stand their charges, anything up to a thousand dollars.”