Erle Gardner - The Case of the Borrowed Brunette

“No, he didn’t. He got up and walked over to the window. He took a few steps up and down, walking restlessly around, and then he went over to the window. And do you remember what he did then?”

“Came back and— No, before he came back he turned the Venetian blind so that he could see out.”

“Or so that someone else could see in.”

“Well... yes,” Drake admitted.

“That someone else could have looked into the apartment, could have seen us there, could have telephoned, could have said, ‘You have a couple of men there. What do they want?’ And he could have said, ‘Information.’ ”

Drake gave a low whistle.

“Of course,” Mason said, “I’m just sticking my neck out. But it’s a logical deduction. Here we have Reedley, apparently a man of considerable means, with a restless, driving temperament that makes him turn from one thing to another and would naturally make him go from one woman to another. As he gets older, his changes will be made less frequently; but that type of man never celebrates a golden wedding anniversary.”

“And you think there’s someone there in the apartment house who—”

“Sure. The man’s nobody’s fool, Paul. His wife has been on his trail with private detectives. She’s had him shadowed for months. He knows it. She’s kept tabs on his visitors — those she knows about. But suppose he’s friendly with a woman in an adjoining apartment? Or suppose he puts the woman with whom he’s friendly in an adjoining apartment?”

“Gosh, Perry, it’s logical all right. It’s getting a lot of answers from just one or two clues — sure. But when you stop to think of it, it’s the only solution that fits the facts.”

“I’m not getting it as a solution,” Mason said. “I’m getting it as a clue on which we can work. See if you can’t find out who has the adjoining apartment, how long it’s been occupied. Get a floor plan of the building. It may not be the adjoining apartment; it may be one of those across the court. But the person must be someone who can see in through that window when Reedley fixes the Venetian blinds right.”

“I’ll get busy on it, Perry. Anything else?”

“Keep men on Reedley. I don’t suppose it will do very much good, but I’d like to know a little more about him.”

“Just who is the client in this case, Perry?”

Mason grinned. “Darned if I know. I guess it’s Eva Martell. I’d like to get just a little more information in order to protect her in case it becomes necessary. But I think the real truth is that in part I’m my own client. I have some healthy curiosity about what’s happening. It’s a mystery, and mysteries interest me. I’d like to find out just a little more about Reedley — particularly about how his apartment came to be furnished with such excellent taste.”

“Okay, I’ll get to work on it. We’re going back to your office?”

“That’s right. Della’s waiting.”

Drake turned in at the parking lot next to the office building, and he and Mason went up.

“Coming down to my place?” Mason asked.

“Not unless you want me, Perry. I’ve got quite a bit of stuff to check up on.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“You’ll let me know in case there’s anything you want?”

“That’s right.”

“Any other instructions?”

“Just keep working on the thing. Find out as much about the murder as you can. Get some men investigating that apartment house setup. Keep a shadow on Reedley.”

“How about the operatives from the Interstate Investigators?”

“Forget them. You can take your men off them and put them on Reedley.”

“Okay, Perry. How do you want your reports?”

“Usual way. If anything’s really important, get in touch with me no matter where I am.”

“Okay.”

Walking on down the corridor, Mason latch-keyed the door to his private office. Della Street looked up, then held up her finger to her lips as a sign for silence.

Mason raised his eyebrows. She gestured with her thumb toward the outer office.

Mason walked quietly over, sat down close to her, and asked in a half-whisper, “What is it?”

“Eva Martell and Adelle Winters are out there.”

“Anything new?”

“I don’t know. They only arrived about five minutes ago, and all I told them was that I didn’t know whether you’d be in any more this evening or not. Thought I’d park them and find out whether you wanted to see them.”

“Let’s see them,” Mason said.

“Now?”

“Uh-huh. Bring them in. Tell them I just came back.”

Della Street went out and a moment later returned with Eva Martell and Adelle Winters.

“Well,” Mason said, “you seem to have run into quite a bit of excitement.”

“I’ll say we did,” Eva said.

“Sit down and tell me about it.”

“Well, there isn’t much to tell. We went back to the apartment and let ourselves in with the key Mr. Hines had given us and started making ourselves at home. I had taken off my hat and coat and was just going into the bathroom when I saw him.”

“Where was he?”

“In a big chair in the bedroom. All slumped down. And that bullet hole in his forehead, and the blood down the side of his face and over the shoulder of his shirt — it was terrible!”

“What did you do?” Mason asked.

“Screamed her head off,” Adelle Winters said, interposing her competent personality as a barrier between Mason and further questioning of the girl. “I clapped my hand over her mouth and told her to be her age. I went over and took a look at him, saw he was dead, and told her to telephone you for instructions.”

“He was shot in the forehead?” Mason asked.

“Yes — right between the eyes.”

“Did you notice any powder burns?”

“I didn’t look for them, but I didn’t see any.”

“I understand he was shot with a .32 revolver.”

Mrs. Winters shrugged her shoulders.

“You had a .32 revolver, I believe, Mrs. Winters. You’d better—”

“Who? Me?”

“You did have one, didn’t you?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Good heavens, no!”

“Why, I thought you said that... ”

“Oh, that’s just one of my little ways of running a bluff, Mr. Mason. I’ve never yet seen the man that I had to be afraid of, but it doesn’t do any harm to let them think they’re dealing with a hellcat, so I always tell ‘em that I’m carrying a gun. It’s a good bluff.”

Mason frowned. “You told me you carried a gun and had no permit to do so. I told you to get rid of the gun or else get a permit to carry it.”

Her eyes twinkled at him. “And you remember I wasn’t a darn bit worried about not having a permit for it. That’s because I didn’t really have any gun — so naturally I wasn’t worried at all.”

Eva interrupted. “But I always thought you carried a gun. You told me you did, several times, Aunt Adelle.”

Mrs. Winters chuckled delightedly. “Well, it made you feel safer because I told you that, didn’t it? I’ll run a bluff, but when something like this comes up, there’s no percentage in sticking your neck out.”

Mason was watching her with a puzzled frown on his forehead. “Now, let’s be frank about this,” he said. “If you did have a gun, the police are pretty likely to find out you had it. Then-if you deny it... ”

“Good heavens, Mr. Mason, what a fuss you make over what was just a plain bluff! I never carried a gun in my life.”

“That’s your final answer?”

“Of course it is. It’s the truth.”

“How long had Hines been dead when you found him?”

“Well, I couldn’t say. The body was still warm, but... well, sort of lukewarm. It’s pretty hard to tell about the temperature of a body without putting your hand inside the clothes somewhere. I just touched his wrist. His coat was hung on the chair.”