Erie Gardner - The Case of the Lazy Lover

“You get your siren going good and loud,” Mason said, “and don’t look behind you. She’ll have the radiator pushed right up against the rear wheel of your motorcycle.”

“Let’s go!” the officer said.

Gertie slammed the car door shut. Fleetwood settled back into sullen silence, between Mason and Gertie.

The officer kicked on his red spotlight and the siren. Della Street threw the car into second gear and then after the second block, slammed it back into high.

They screamed their way through the frozen night traffic of the city, until, within a matter of minutes, the officer flagged them to a stop in front of police headquarters.

He walked back to the car, said to Fleetwood, “Okay, buddy, you come with me!”

Fleetwood opened the door of the car, crowded past Mason.

“Right this way,” the officer said to Fleetwood.

Fleetwood gave Mason a venomous look, turned and followed the officer.

Mason waited until the officer and Fleetwood had entered police headquarters, and then he, himself, entered the building and found a telephone booth, dialed the number of Paul Drake’s office and said to Drake’s night secretary, “Perry Mason talking. I have to get in touch with Paul immediately. Where can I locate him?”

“He’s home, getting some shut-eye,” she said.

“Okay. I’ll call him there.”

Mason hung up, dialed the number of Drake’s apartment, and after a few moments heard Drake’s voice, thick with sleep, on the wire.

“Wake up, Paul,” Mason said. “We’re in the middle of a mess!”

“Oh, Lord,” Drake groaned. “I should have known it. You spend all day sleeping in Gertie’s apartment, and then...”

“Sleeping, hell!” Mason interrupted. “Playing cards, trying to keep awake sitting in a chair, and dozing. A more unsatisfactory day’s sleep I’ve never had!”

“All right, all right!” Drake said. “What’s wrong now?”

“We got Fleetwood,” Mason said. “I got him to police headquarters. He didn’t know who I was. Then I suddenly sprung it on him in front of some witnesses. That trapped him. He started cussing me for being Mrs. Allred’s lawyer, and then realized he’d trapped himself into a betrayal of the amnesia business. So he clapped his hand to his head and said his memory had come back with a rush.”

“Good stuff!” Drake said.

“A lot depends on what happens in the next sixty minutes,” Mason said. “Have you got someone you can use here at headquarters to...”

“That’s easy,” Drake said. “One of the men I use is accredited as a special correspondent and has the privileges of the pressroom. Unless there’s quite a hush-hush...”

“Get him on the job quick,” Mason said. “I’m going to need some co-operation. And get dressed and get up to your office, Paul. We’re going to have to do something fast.”

“How come?”

“I think this fellow, Fleetwood, may be half smart,” Mason said, “and we may either win or lose this case, as far as my client is concerned, within the next sixty minutes.”

“Okay,” Drake said, “I’ll get my man on the job and have him up there. Anything else?”

“That’s all for now,” Mason said. “Well, wait a minute! This rancher, Overbrook, looks like a big, good-natured, rugged individual, but I’d like to find out something about him.”

“Didn’t you talk with him, Perry?”

“Sure, but I couldn’t talk with him the way I wanted to because of Fleetwood being there and because I had to pretend Fleetwood was Gertie’s husband.”

“I see. Okay, I’ll try and get everything I can lined up. I’ll start working on the telephone from here, and then I’ll be up at the office in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fine,” Mason said. “I’ll be seeing you there.”

Mason left the phone booth, walked to the office of the homicide squad, said to the officer who was at the switchboard, “How about Lieutenant Tragg? Is he in?”

“Fortunately, he is,” the man said. “A big break in the Allred case found Tragg in his office.”

“Tell him Perry Mason wants to see him.”

“He won’t see anyone for a while. He’s interviewing a witness and...”

“You get the word to him that Perry Mason is out here and wants to see him for about two minutes. Tell him it may make a difference in the way he questions Fleetwood.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him,” the officer said, got up from the switchboard, and walked down to Tragg’s private office.

A minute later he came out and said, “Stick around for a few minutes, Mr. Mason. Tragg will come out just as soon as he gets a chance.”

Mason nodded, took a cigarette and settled back in one of the uncushioned oak chairs.

The cigarette was half gone when the door was pushed open explosively, and Lieutenant Tragg came bustling out.

“Hello, Mason. What’s on your mind?”

Mason walked over, took Tragg’s arm, led him to one corner of the room, said, “You’re always telling me I don’t co-operate. This is one you can put on the credit side of the ledger.”

“Damned if it isn’t!” Tragg said. “How did you find him?”

“I knew he was supposed to be suffering from amnesia.”

“Okay. What’s the rest of it?”

Mason said, “He didn’t get his memory back until just before he entered headquarters.”

“That’s what the traffic officer was telling me.”

Mason said, “As soon as he got his memory back, of course he forgot everything that had happened during the time he had amnesia. He remembers walking along a hedge in the Allred patio, and then something hit him, he went blooey, and he doesn’t know a thing until he came to in front of headquarters.”

“I’m wrestling with this amnesia business,” Tragg said grimly, “and I think I’m going to cure it.”

Mason said, “Perhaps I can help you on that. You see, we know pretty much what happened to him during the last two or three days.”

“Okay, what was it?”

“There’s a price for it.”

“The hell there is!”

“That’s right.”

“What?”

“I want to see Mrs. Allred now.”

“This is no time for visitors.”

Mason said, “Phooey. In the first place, I’m her attorney, and in the second place, you haven’t put her under formal arrest and charged her with anything. You’ve simply placed her where you can hold her.”

Tragg said, “I should have known there was a catch in this thing somewhere.”

“What the hell,” Mason told him. “Do you want to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“You’re damn right, I do!” Tragg said. “Any time you give me a horse, I’m going to look in his mouth.”

“All right,” Mason said. “Go ahead and look in his mouth if you want to. All you’ll find will be his teeth. He won’t talk and tell you how old he is. Play it my way and the horse will do the talking.”

“He might do the laughing,” Tragg said suspiciously.

Mason shrugged his shoulders.

“What’s going to happen after you see Mrs. Allred?”

“Then,” Mason said, “she’s going to make a statement to you. She’s going to tell you her story, exactly what happened.”

Tragg scribbled out a pass. “Okay, take this to the matron,” he said.

“And you can phone her,” Mason pointed out. “That will facilitate matters. They’ll have Mrs. Allred all dressed and...”

“Okay, okay,” Tragg said, but then added, “she’s going to have to talk, though. Remember that!”

“She’ll talk,” Mason said.

“When?”

“At eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Not before?”

“Not before.”

“Why the delay?”

“I want her to have her breakfast,” Mason said. “It might give her ulcers to talk on an empty stomach.”