Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom

“That’s the one.”

“I heard the dog bark like hell last night,” Lomax said. “I told my wife something must be wrong. The dog was really making a commotion.”

“Do you know what time it was?” Mason asked.

“I know exactly what time it was. That is, I don’t know exactly what time it started, but after the dog kept on barking for a while I thought there must be something wrong and got up and looked out of the window. My bedroom window looks right over towards the Hackley house.”

“Yes, yes,” Mason said eagerly, “and what happened?”

“Well, I looked at my watch. I thought something might be wrong over there. When I got up it was exactly twenty-four minutes past twelve.”

“And your clock is right?” Mason asked.

“Just about right. I set it by a radio program every day. It isn’t over a second or two off.”

“And it was just about twelve-twenty-five?”

“Exactly twelve-twenty-four,” Lomax said. “I made a note of the time.”

“And how long did the dog keep barking?”

“Just about as soon as I got to the window, I saw lights come on over there in that house this Hackley had bought — and then all of a sudden the dog quit barking as though someone had told him to shut up. I waited for a while. The lights stayed on and the dog quit barking so I figured everything was all right and went back to bed. The dog must have been barking three or four minutes before I got up.

“If you ask me, that dog’s a mean one, but I’m not saying anything — not yet, I’m trying to be neighborly. However, I’ve got chickens here and if he ever starts killing chickens I’m going to march right over there and tell Hackley that a dog like that is a city dog. He’s got no business being out here in the country. Never saw one of them yet that wasn’t a killer when you get ’em out in the country. Damned shame too. The people who had that house used to be nice people. They were rich but neighborly. They’d do anything. I guess they were city people all right but they sort of fitted into a country background.

“Now you take this here Hackley, he’s different. He’s city from the word ‘go’ and he’s one of these fellows that doesn’t want to have any neighbors. He treats me as though I wasn’t here. Just goes on by. Sometimes he’ll nod, sometimes he won’t. Never has stopped to pass the time of day.

“Out here in the country a man gets to depend on his neighbors and when you find a man who’s unsociable like that it bothers you.”

“It certainly would,” Mason said.

“So I’m not under any obligations to put up with any monkeyshines from that dog. Don’t like ’im. Had trouble with a dog like that once before.”

“And the dog only barked once that night?”

“Just that one time,” Lomax said.

“You didn’t happen to notice a car going in or out of the driveway?”

“I didn’t happen to notice any car,” Lomax said doggedly. “When I go to bed, I go to bed to sleep. I’ve got a thirty-acre ranch here and it’s a job working it. I’m pretty tired and ready for bed when it gets that time of day. I listen to the news broadcast at nine o’clock, and then I’m ready to roll in. I don’t usually wake up until daylight. I’m up just about daylight and starting work. What’s more, I’m not the sort that pries into the affairs of my neighbors and I don’t want my neighbors prying into my affairs. I want to live and let live. That’s the way we are down here.”

“And you didn’t see or hear any automobile?”

“I didn’t see or hear anything until I heard that dog barking and I got up then to see what it was all about. The way the dog sounded — well, it’s the way a dog sounds when he’s a little worked up over something. Pretty hysterical, if you ask me.”

“You think somebody was over there?”

“I think the dog was pretty much worked up over something.”

“You didn’t see anyone over there?”

“It’s just like I told you. I saw the lights were on in the house and after a while the dog quit barking. Then I went back to bed.”

“And how long before you went to sleep?” Mason asked.

“How long before what?”

“Before you went back to sleep.”

“I don’t know,” Lomax said. “I didn’t have any stop watch. It might have been — I don’t know. Hell, it might have been thirty seconds, maybe almost a minute.”

“Thank you,” Mason said, smiling. “Please don’t mention anything about our having been here. I don’t want Hackley to know we stopped in and I think that you and Hackley would get along better if he didn’t know you’d given us this information.”

“I don’t care what he knows,” Lomax said. “I hew to the line and the chips can fall where they want to.”

Mason wished him good night. The three trooped back to Mason’s car.

Della Street said, “I committed a little petit larceny out there at Hackley’s place.”

“How come?” Mason asked.

She laughed and said, “Just my woman’s eye. I don’t suppose either of you noticed the woman’s scarf that had been thrown in the corner back on top of the bookcase, did you?”

“A scarf?” Mason said, “Lord, no!”

Della Street reached inside of her blouse and pulled out a colored silken scarf, a scarf which was a blending of pastel shades starting with a strip of green and merging gradually into a strip of deep violet.

“Do you,” she asked Perry Mason, “smell anything?”

Mason raised the scarf to his nose, then gave a low whistle.

“Della! Is that the scent I think it is?”

“What is it?” Drake asked.

Mason said, “Unless I’m greatly mistaken, that is the perfume used by my friend Virginia Bynum.”

Della Street said, “It’s rather faint, probably nothing you could make stand up in court, but — well, it’s a thought, chief.”

“It’s more than a thought,” Mason said frowning. “It’s a problem.”

“And here,” said Della Street, “is something else.”

She pulled a flattened small woman’s hat out from under her coat. “The scarf and the hat were together on the bookshelf in the corner. You’ll remember Drake’s man said he remembered Ethel Garvin was wearing a hat when she left her apartment.”

Mason took the hat.

Drake emitted a low whistle. “Damn it, Perry, suppose both of those women were in love with Hackley!”

“And both here last night,” Mason said significantly.

Mason, the morning mail stacked unopened on his desk, paced the floor, from time to time tossing comments to Della Street.

“The thing doesn’t tie in,” Mason said. And then after a moment, “The gas tank on that car of Ethel Garvin’s was full... The windshield was dirty... She didn’t get that tank filled at a service station unless she was in too big a hurry to wait to have the windshield cleaned. That doesn’t sound reasonable.”

Again Mason paced the floor, then tossed out a few more comments.

“We know that someone was at Hackley’s at twelve-twenty-four in the morning. We think that Virginia Bynum may have been there but she couldn’t have been there at that time because she was out on the fire escape watching Denby.”

Della Street said, “Well, as far as I’m concerned, the one I would like to know about is Frank C. Livesey. I’ve known men just like him before. He’s conceited, vain and, if you ask me, he’s cruel.”

“What makes you think he’s cruel?”

“I know he’s cruel. It’s his way with women. He’s a man who’s been a playboy. He finds himself getting past the age of playing, but he’s in a job where a certain class of girl is absolutely dependent upon him. Not for her bread and butter perhaps, but for her gingerbread and cake, and with that type of girl gingerbread and cake is really more important than the bread and butter.”