Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Long-Legged Models

Garvin opened the outer door of the apartment house with a key and went in.

Three or four minutes later Garvin came back out, got in his car and had some trouble extricating himself from his parking place because of another car which had moved in ahead of him.

Mason pressed the button on his horn twice but Garvin, wrestling with the steering wheel, seemed too preoccupied to hear Mason’s signal.

It was just as Garvin moved out of the parking place that Stephanie Falkner drove up. She evidently saw Garvin as he drove out ahead of her car but did nothing to attract his attention. She did not see Mason but parked her car and went at once to the door of the apartment house.

Just as she was on the point of pressing Casselman’s bell, the door opened and a rather portly woman in the late forties emerged, then obligingly paused to hold the door open for Stephanie.

During the interval Mason had been waiting, only Homer Garvin and Stephanie Falkner had passed through the front door of the apartment house, and except for Garvin, the portly woman had been the only one to leave.

Mason waited a minute or two longer, then started his car and slowly circled the block.

It was quite dark. The only street illumination came from the lights at the corner. As Mason reached the front of the house again, he saw that Stephanie Falkner’s car was still parked in the place where she had left it.

The fourth time, Mason was halfway around when he saw the figure of a woman running down the service stairs at the back of the apartment house.

The lawyer slowed his car.

The woman ran to the alley, emerged on the lighted street and reluctantly slowed her pace to a walk.

Mason brought his car to a stop. “Want a ride, Miss Falkner?” She jumped back with a short half scream, then caught herself.

“Oh, you startled me!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Everything all right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Get in. I’ll drive you to your car. Did you get an offer?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Thirty thousand. He said it was all he could pay.”

“Cash?”

“Yes. How long have you been out here?”

“Oh, for a while.”

“What are you doing?”

“I saw Casselman.”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He didn’t say anything about it. Did he make you an offer?”

“How much?”

“I’d prefer to have Homer Garvin tell you about that. As a lawyer I’m in a position to get information but not to give out any.”

“I see,” she said.

“Did you accept his offer?” Mason asked, slowing his car to a crawl.

“Certainly not. I told you I wouldn’t. I told him I’d call back and let him know.”

“Get along all right?” Mason asked.

“Certainly.”

“Any threats?”

“Of course not.”

“Any trouble?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then why didn’t you come out the front door?”

She caught her breath sharply. “Where were you?”

“Out back.”

She said, “I... he was talking over the telephone, and... well, I wanted to hear what he was saying. I sneaked out into the kitchen. It sounded as though the conversation might go on for a long time, then all of a sudden he hung up. I was trapped. He went back to the front room and, of course, saw I wasn’t there. So I sneaked out the back door and ran down the steps. In that way he won’t know I was listening. Later on I’ll tell him I got tired waiting and went out the front door while he was talking.”

“To whom was he talking?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. The conversation wasn’t long enough for me to find out.”

Mason regarded her sharply. “You had some very compelling reason for trying to listen in on that conversation?”

She looked at him for a moment, then said, “Yes. I heard him use the name Garvin, and at first I thought it was... well, it might have been Homer Garvin calling.”

“Was it?”

“No. Apparently it was a woman.”

“You don’t know who this person was?”

“No.”

“Any idea?”

“It could have been Junior’s new wife. He was married in Chicago.”

“Could you gather from his tone whether it was a business deal or perhaps something involving a romantic attachment?”

“No.”

“Yet you heard some of the conversation?”

“Not enough to do any good.”

“You could hear the tone of his voice?”

“Yes.”

“And couldn’t tell from that what the conversation was about?”

“No.”

Mason regarded her thoughtfully.

“Well, here’s my car,” she said. “I’m living at the Lodestar Apartments. You can call me there after you get in touch with Mr. Garvin.”

There was a definite note of dismissal in her voice. She jumped out of Mason’s car, slid in behind the wheel of her car, turned the ignition key. The motor throbbed to life.

“I probably don’t sound like it,” she said, “but I’m very grateful to you.”

The car eased away from the curb.

Mason drove back to his office.

“Did you see Casselman?” Della Street asked.

Mason nodded.

“How is he? Dangerous?”

“If you had your back turned.”

She said, “Homer Garvin phoned to say he’d be up here in about half an hour. He said he had just got in from Las Vegas.”

“When did he phone, Della?”

“Five minutes ago.”

Mason said, “Don’t let me forget to congratulate him on his new daughter-in-law, Della.”

Della Street laughed. “There was a certain urgency about his voice,” Della Street said. “I think perhaps he has other matters on his mind.”

They worked on letters until there was a tap at the door of Mason’s office. Della Street opened the door. Homer Garvin who, Mason’s records showed, was fifty-one years old yet who looked no older than forty, said, “Hello, Della,” surveyed her with pinpointed gray eyes and patted her shoulder. Then he came across to shake hands with Mason, looked at his watch and said, “We’re going to have to work fast, Perry. Have you seen Casselman?”

“Yes.”

“What did he offer?”

“Thirty thousand dollars for the fifteen per cent interest you own.”

“What did he offer Stephanie?”

“Thirty thousand dollars for the forty per cent interest.”

“That can’t be right, Mason! He surely wouldn’t offer the same price for fifteen per cent as for forty per cent.”

“Both represent a controlling interest.”

“Why... that just isn’t right. He... Let’s go see Stephanie. I have something to tell her. What did you think of Casselman, Mason?”

“He’s a cold-blooded crook, but I think he’d wilt in a face-to-face fight.”

Garvin said, “From information I have now acquired, I have every reason to believe he’s the man who murdered Glenn Falkner, Stephanie’s father.”

“Evidence you can take to the police?” Mason asked sharply.

“I think so, Perry. A few hours before his death, Glenn Falkner told a friend of his he had a business matter to discuss with Casselman. I have finally managed to track down the car Casselman was driving at the time of Glenn Falkner’s death. Casselman sold it within three days after the murder. He traded it in on a new car.

“Now you’ll remember Glenn Falkner was riding in a car with somebody at the time he was murdered. The car was seen to come down the street at pretty good speed. The door on the right-hand side was flung open, and a body was pushed out of the car. It hung half in and half out of the car for about half a block, then hit the pavement with a thud and rolled over and over. The car sped away.

“Horrified pedestrians ran up to the man and found that he was dead as a mackerel. He had been shot once in the head, twice through the body. One of the bullets was still in the body.