Erie Gardner - The Case of the Lazy Lover

“So then what happened?”

“We brought him into the house. I started to telephone for a doctor, but Mr. Allred said we could put him in his car and he could get him to a hospital a lot quicker than we could wait for a doctor or an ambulance.

“Bob regained consciousness while we were talking. He opened his eyes and muttered something that was unintelligible, then closed his eyes again and then after a moment wanted to know where he was and wanted to know who he was.

“Of course, at the time, we felt that it was merely the fact that he was dazed. Apparently he’d struck his head on a curb when... when my fender had hit him.”

“There’s a walk on the inside of the hedge by the patio?” Mason asked.

“That’s right. There’s the public sidewalk along the street on the outside of the hedge, and then there’s a walk along the inside, flagstones set into the lawn, but there’s a cement curb, a sort of retaining wall running along the edge of the flagstone walk, with the lawn about eighteen inches higher than the flag walk.”

“All right,” Mason said. “Go on. What happened?”

“Well, it was obvious that the injury to Bob’s head had given him amnesia. He didn’t know who he was or where he was, or what it was all about.”

“And then what happened?”

She said, “I don’t know all of the details. I know that Mr. Allred and Mother had a whispered consultation and then went in the other room and talked for a while. You see, Bob Fleetwood is Mr. Allred’s right-hand man. He knows a lot about the business, and right at the present time there are some very important matters pending.”

“Such as what?” Mason asked.

“Well, for one thing, Mr. Jerome and Mr. Allred are having some trouble. I think they’re ready to dissolve the partnership. It’s a question of who pays the money and how much is taken. I think Fleetwood knows something there.

“Then there’s the lawsuit with Dixon Keith. I think Fleetwood is the key witness there, and if people should know that Fleetwood had lost his memory — well, even if he got it back, you know what a lawyer would do. He’d get Bob on the stand and ask him if such and such wasn’t the case, and if Fleetwood said ‘No,’ he’d ask him if it wasn’t true he’d lost his memory for a while and ask him how he knew he had made a complete recovery. He’d make things pretty tough for Bob.”

“So what?”

“So Mr. Allred decided that my mother had better tell Fleetwood she was his married sister, that Bertrand Allred was his brother-in-law, and I was his niece.

“And that’s absolutely everything there was to it, Mr. Mason. My mother and my stepfather took Bob Fleetwood...”

“Wait a minute,” Mason interrupted. “You mean your stepfather went with them?”

“Of course.”

“Where did they go?”

“They intended to go to some outlying suburb where no one would ever think to look for Bob. They intended to register somewhere and keep him very, very quiet. They knew that’s what a doctor would prescribe, to keep him quiet so as to avoid the aftereffects of concussion.”

“You don’t know where they went?”

“No.”

“You do know that Bertrand Allred went with them?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

Mason got up from the chair and began pacing the floor, hands pushed down deep in his pockets, his head thrust slightly forward.

“What is it, Mr. Mason?” she asked.

Mason said, “Then your mother didn’t have any romantic attachment for Fleetwood whatever?”

“Of course not. Certainly not.”

“She simply took him to some motel or auto camp where he could be quiet for a while?”

“Yes.”

“And Bertrand Allred knew about it?”

“He’s the one who suggested it. He went with them.”

Mason shook his head and said, “It doesn’t make sense. Wait a minute. Yes, it does, too.”

“What do you mean?”

Mason looked at his watch and said, “Where’s your mother now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Any way of finding out?”

“She was going to communicate with me.”

“What,” Mason asked, “is the idea of all this buildup?” and he included the apartment with a gesture of his hand.

She said, “I feel like a heel about this, Mr. Mason, but it was Mother’s idea. She thought that if — well, if anything happened and there should be any complications—”

“Go ahead.”

“She thought that — well, in case anything happened, that it would be a lot better if I could adopt the position that I’d loaned the car on Saturday evening to some friend. So we created the identity of Maurine Milford and decided to build her up a bit. We decided to let her live here in Las Olitas, take Patricia Faxon’s automobile in to have it repaired, tell a story about having hit something, try to keep the whole thing secret and...”

“And then as soon as any investigator started checking on the thing, he’d find that your description agreed with that of Patricia Faxon and would have discovered the whole scheme without any difficulty.”

“It wasn’t going to be that simple, Mr. Mason. I didn’t think people would identify me. But they were never going to have a chance to do it, except from a general description. Whenever I’ve been out as Maurine Milford, I’ve had a special make-up on that changed the shape of my mouth and everything. A superficial description would have been the same, but — well, I don’t think they could have proven anything. Within reasonable limits, we gals all look alike nowadays, except for details.”

“Reasonable limits is right,” Mason said.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

“It was a damn fool thing to have done,” Mason said.

“But at the time we didn’t know — well, we didn’t know whether it would turn out Bob was seriously injured. Of course, if he had been, Mother was going to call a doctor, but the way things were, Mr. Allred thought it would be better for them to simply — well, to go to some motel where they could be quiet and pretend they were traveling places.”

“And where was Allred all this time?”

“Right there with them in the motel.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.”

“Allred spent that night with your mother and Bob Fleetwood?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“And last night?”

She nodded.

“Where is he today?”

“Back at his office carrying on his business. He doesn’t want anyone to suspect that Fleetwood isn’t...”

Mason said, “Pat, I think it’s up to you and me to find your mother without delay.”

“Why?”

“Because it was Bertrand Allred who told me your mother was eloping with Bob Fleetwood.”

She thought that over for a space of almost a minute, then went to the coat closet, got her hat and coat and said, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“After a little while,” Mason said. “There’s no use rushing our heads off right now. I have a force of detectives combing every auto camp and motel looking for them.”

“You think Mother is in some danger?”

“I’ll put it this way. I don’t think it was your car that hit Bob Fleetwood. I think things were fixed so it would be easy for you to clip the corner of the hedge. I think that the person who really hit Fleetwood thought he was dead and left the body where you’d get the blame. Now add to that the fact that Bertrand told me your mother had eloped with Fleetwood. Do you get the picture?”

She watched him with wide, startled eyes. “Do you mean... what I think you mean?”

Mason nodded.

She said, “I saw him taking a revolver out of his desk drawer. Mr. Mason, we must do something.”