Erle Gardner: The Case of the Borrowed Brunette

“Can you describe him?” Mason asked.

“He’s somewhere around thirty, with dark hair and sort of pop eyes and glasses. Tall, and sort of milk-custardy.”

“Evidently the one who showed up later and paid the women off.”

“That’s right. That’s what Cora said when I described him to her.”

“And so Eva Martell was installed in this apartment as Helen Reedley. Was there anything in the apartment?”

“Was there anything in the apartment!” Adelle Winters echoed. “I’ll say there was something in the apartment! There was everything in there. Clothes, underwear, nylon stockings, lotions, creams — absolutely everything that a body could want. And this representative of Mr. Hines... ”

“Did he ever give you his name?” Mason asked.

“What do you take me for?” she snorted. “That man was Mr. Hines himself! He was the one who {nit the ad in the paper and was behind the whole business. I’m sure of it.”

“But he didn’t ever give you his name?”

“No, he just kept saying he was ‘Mr. Hines’s representative.’ And he certainly was a fast worker. He took us up to that apartment and told us to stay there until he got back — just make ourselves at home. Then he went dashing out, I suppose to tell the other girls the job had been filled. And then he came back maybe an hour and a half later to tell us the details.”

“And what were the details?” Mason asked.

“Well in the first place, he told us we must break off completely from our past lives; we were to live in that apartment without having any connection with the outside world except such as he approved of. We were not to call any of our friends on the telephone, not to write any letters, not to try to communicate with them in any way.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. That was part of the job, he said — that we would have to do it that way because it was part of the job. Eva Martell was to be Helen Reedley. I was to go by my own name and be there as a companion and nurse. Because the idea was to create the impression this Miss Reedley was sick and might get worse. She was to keep inside most of the time, and if people came to see her I was to tell ‘em she was nervous and had given instructions that she couldn’t see anyone; or, if they seemed to be old friends, I’d say she was out. If anyone called up on the telephone and asked to speak with Miss Reedley, I was to answer the phone, get the name and the number, and say that Miss Reedley would call back later. Then I was to call Mr. Hines and tell him about it. And that was all.

“What’s more, Hines said that whenever we went out, Eva was to wear the clothes that were there in the apartment — she wasn’t to wear anything of her own. You can see now why the man wanted a girl of a certain height and certain other measurements — the whole job was to be one of impersonation.”

Mason’s eyes showed that he was interested. “How about you? How about your clothes?”

“Humph!” Adelle Winters snorted. “He said I didn’t matter. He said I could wear what I had on no matter where I went. And I certainly gave him a piece of my mind about that. I told him he could see that I had some clothes or we’d walk off the job, both of us.”

“So then?”

“Well, he finally gave me permission to go and get some of my clothes. But he insisted on going with me. He said he would take the clothes and see that they were delivered to the apartment. And do you know how he intends to deliver them?”

“How?”

“He’s going to pay a dry-cleaning establishment to bring them in on hangers as though they were some clothes we’d sent out! He’s terribly particular about not having baggage of any sort moved into the apartment or out of it.”

“About the real Helen Reedley’s intimate friends? How are they to be handled?”

“Apparently the same way other calls are handled. If they ring up I’m supposed to get their names and tell them Miss Reedley is out, or sleeping, or something. Then I’m to call him.”

“You’ve done that?”

“Twice, yes.”

“And does he tell you to have Eva call them later?”

“No.”

“And do the friends ring up again and ask why they weren’t called?”

“So far they haven’t. In case that ever happens, Mr. Hines says, I’m to tell them I gave Miss Reedley the message, but that she was rushing out to see her doctor and that she probably intends to call them from the doctor’s office.”

“Then Hines has given you a telephone number?”

“That’s right. The same one that was in that ad.”

“Have you checked up to see if he’s listed in the phone book?”

“Yes, but it’s evidently an unlisted number.”

“But if he’s holding you there incommunicado,” Mason said, “how does it happen that you have talked with Cora Felton and now have come here?”

“Humph! D’you think I’d let him pull anything like that on me? He and I went out for my clothes, and after I’d got them he took them and called a taxi. When I was inside it, he took the driver off a little way and gave him quite a talking to, and then handed him a bill. Then he raised his hat and said he’d see me at the apartment, that the cab driver knew where to go.

“Well, as soon as the driver started off, I asked him where he was going. He gave me the address all right. So then I told him I wanted to stop at a telephone and he smiled and said no, that the rate he had agreed to didn’t allow for any stop, that he’d have to keep right on going. Well, one thing led to another, and finally I found out that Hines had told him I was a little simple-minded and forgetful and that if I ever got out on the street I wouldn’t be able to find my way back home alone; that two or three times lately I’ve had to be located through the police. While I was perfectly harmless and didn’t have any hallucinations or anything, I’d just lost part of my mind, and under no circumstances was he to trust me out of the car until he got to that address. Then he was to see that I went right upstairs into the apartment.”

“So what did you do?” Mason asked.

“I proceeded to tell that cabby where he got off at! I explained that the man was my son-in-law who was always playing practical jokes on me and that I’d pin his ears back when I got home. And I went on to show the driver that I knew my way perfectly well around the city by telling him every street and every turn we’d made since I got into the cab. Well, that convinced him all right, so pretty soon he agreed to stop and let me out — and I could telephone Cora. Sure enough, she was home. I told her the whole story over the telephone and she said that, just in case what I was thinking was true, I’d better go straight to you. She felt sure you’d know what to do because you were acquainted with the case already.”

“And what were you thinking?” asked Mason.

Her glance was almost pitying. “Good heavens, Mr. Mason, you’re a lawyer. Don’t you know what it is — yet?”

Mason shook his head.

She snorted again. “Why, that man is no more Hines than I am! He’s Helen Reedley’s husband. He’s killed her and disposed of the body, and now he’s working up some sort of scheme to prevent this from being known. So he’s got Eva and me living there and pretending that everything’s hunky-dory. Then after a while he’ll tell us to say we’re going away, and we’ll pack up and get out, telling everybody we’re going to Mexico City or some place.”

“Who’s everybody?”

“Why, all of the Reedley girl’s friends.”

“But don’t you think that if any of her friends saw Eva Martell they’d know she wasn’t Helen Reedley?”

“Of course they would, but evidently the kind of friends she has wouldn’t come to her apartment without ringing up first. That’s where all this sick business comes in. He can give out that his wife got worse in Mexico City and died there!”