Erie Gardner - The Case of the Lazy Lover

Mason shook his head and laughed.

“What’s wrong with that?” Keith asked.

“Everything’s wrong with it,” Mason said. “You want me to act as a sort of a coach for Fleetwood.”

“I don’t see what you mean.”

“The hell you don’t. You’ll give me a certain, rather modest, amount for putting you in touch with Fleetwood. You’ll give me quite a bit more money in the event he answers questions the way you’ll want them answered. You’ll leave me the list of the questions and a list of the answers you want Fleetwood to give. I’d be a damn poor lawyer if I didn’t realize that it was to my advantage to have Fleetwood answer the questions just that way, and it would be quite a temptation in running over the list with him to try and see that he did answer them that way.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that? It’s done every day. Whenever any lawyer takes a suit, he knows what answers the witnesses are supposed to give if he’s going to win that suit.”

Mason said, “The discussion is academic, anyway, because when I get hold of Fleetwood, I’m going to take him to the police myself. That’s in case the police want him.”

“You can get one thousand dollars by turning him over to me.”

“Okay,” Mason said grinning. “The line forms at the right.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. He studied Mason thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, “That should have occurred to me earlier. Mason, I want to be sure that if there’s any line that forms at the right, I’m standing at the head of it.”

“So I gathered.”

“All right, just so you know. I’ll top any other bid,” Keith said and walked out.

Mason got up and started pacing the office floor, swinging rhythmically back and forth, his thumbs pushed into the armholes of his vest, his head bowed in concentration.

Della Street was watching him silently when the phone on Mason’s desk rang. She picked up the instrument.

“Hello... yes, Paul... okay... All right, hang on to the line; I’ll tell him.” Della looked over at Mason, “Drake says there are detectives watching the office here. He says he thinks they are employed by Dixon Keith and that the idea is that if you should start out of here in a hurry, the detectives will figure you’re going to get Fleetwood and will tag along behind.”

Mason laughed, “I’d already anticipated that. Let me talk with Paul.” Mason picked up the telephone, said, “Hello, Paul. I’m going to leave the office. I’ll shake the shadows and establish headquarters where the shadows can’t pick me up.

“You stick in your office and wait for my call. I think this man Fleetwood is a lot more important than anyone realizes.”

“Okay,” Drake said, “but what are you going to do if you locate him, Perry? Think you can make him talk?”

“I’ll try to make him talk,” Mason said, “but I’ll sew him up first.”

“Suppose he doesn’t want to go with you?”

“I’ll make him. I think I know how it can be done.”

“Well, that’s your funeral,” Drake said. “There are penalties for kidnaping, you know.”

“I know,” Mason said. “I read a law book once.”

Drake laughed, “Watch your step, Perry. This is going to get pretty hot.”

Mason hung up the phone and said to Della Street, “I want to ditch those detectives, Della, and I want to do it in such a way it will never occur to them that I deliberately ditched them. Get Gertie in here, will you? Tell her to lock the outer door. We’ll close up the office.”

Della Street nodded, glided out of the office, and a few moments later returned with Gertie, the big, affable, somewhat overweight receptionist.

Mason said, “I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” she said.

“How would you like to act the part of a married woman for a while?”

Gertie grinned. “What is this, Mr. Mason, a proposal or a proposition?”

“A proposition.”

“They all are,” Gertie said. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“I’m hoping we can locate a man by the name of Fleetwood. He either is an amnesia victim or he’s pretending to be an amnesia victim. I’m rather anxious to find out which.”

Gertie nodded.

“The police are looking for Fleetwood, and at least one other private detective agency is looking for him. The man is hotter than a stovelid.

“Now then, the play is to get Fleetwood where he is entirely in our control. That isn’t going to be easy. Fleetwood isn’t going to want to play. If it really is amnesia, he’s going to need convincing. If he has been faking, he’s not going to like any part of it. But a man who is pretending amnesia is exceedingly vulnerable.”

“How?” Della asked.

“If you tell him anything about his past life, he isn’t in any position to contradict you.”

Della Street’s face lit up as Mason’s idea impressed itself upon her. “Then you mean that Gertie...”

Mason grinned.

“What’s the bird like?” Gertie demanded.

“I think he’s quite a wolf, Gertie. Long eyelashes, dark wavy hair, the romantic type...”

“Sold,” Gertie announced, and then added with a laugh, “and, I’ll either crack that alibi of his or I’ll prove that he has genuine amnesia. One or the other.”

Mason said, “I’ll bet you will! But first, detectives are watching the office. I want to ditch them once and for all, but I don’t want them to know that I am trying to ditch them or they will realize we’ve got something important on.

“Here’s what we’ll do. We leave the office together. Downstairs in the lobby we stop and chat for a minute or so. Then I leave you two as though I were starting for court.

“You go into the department store across the street. I’ll take the car, drive two blocks down the street and park in front of a fire plug. At this time of day cars will be parked solid everywhere else. Now, the shadows, if they’re clever, will be following along behind. There will be two of them, one to stay in the automobile and the other to follow me in case I should leave my car. They won’t be able to park anywhere near me, and they won’t dare to double-park. That will take care of the car and the driver. He’ll just have to keep going. The second man will have to jump out and follow me on foot. I won’t try and ditch him at all. I’ll go to the nearest telephone, call up Paul Drake, give him some instructions, leave the phone and start walking down the street as though, after my conversation with Drake, I’d thought of something else I had to do.

“You girls leave the department store, walk down the street and you’ll find my automobile parked in front of a fire plug on the right-hand side two blocks down. I’ll pick the first fire plug I can find. Della, you have the keys to my car. There’ll probably be a parking tag on it. You may even find the cop in the act of putting on the tag and he’ll start bawling you out. Don’t pay any attention to that. Just get in and drive off. I’ll go into the interurban station. My man will be following me, of course, but by that time his partner and his car will be out of the running. Now you synchronize your watches with mine. I’ll take the first interurban car that leaves after an interval of exactly twenty minutes to the second from the time I say good-by to you girls. I’ll be back in the car in a seat on the right-hand side, next to the window. For all my shadow can tell, I’ll be going all the way on the interurban.

“You girls drive on out Seventh Street, park the car at a point that’s far enough out so that my shadow can’t pick up a taxicab. You keep watch on the red interurban cars. I’ll be watching for you. When my car passes, I’ll signal you and you fall in behind the car. I’ll ride out to a point that’s sufficiently isolated, then get off. My shadow will, of course, be right behind me. But you’ll be there with the car. I’ll step into the automobile, and as I do so, I’ll tell you all about exactly how many minutes it took me to go from the terminal to the point where I got off. The shadow will think I was making some sort of a test to check up on the story of a witness and he’ll be left there twiddling his thumbs, hoping for a taxi, perhaps trying to stop some passing motorist and offer him five bucks to follow us.