Erle Gardner: The Case of the Borrowed Brunette

“Oh, hello!” Della Street said. “The boss is waiting in here. We only have a minute.” And she took Cora back through the door to Mason’s private office.

Mason, still pacing the floor, looked up as they entered.

“Hello, Cora,” he said. “Sit down. Tell me what it is.”

“Mr. Mason, I just don’t know. I’ve completely lost confidence in Aunt Adelle. I can’t understand why she would do a thing like that.”

“What does she say now?”

“Well, she says she picked up the wallet and then wondered why Mr. Hines had left it there. Then she walked into the other room and found the body, and her first thought was that now perhaps nobody would know the wallet was missing and she could keep what was in it. She didn’t know how much that was, but she could see that the wallet was pretty well filled with money. When she had a chance to look at it — while Eva was telephoning you and then the police — she saw the big bills and made up her mind she just wouldn’t give it up. She’s always had to fight her way through the world, and the world hasn’t given her a square deal. People have done all sorts of mean things to her, and—”

“Never mind the justification,” Mason said. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“Well, when the police nabbed her and asked her where and when she’d got this wallet, she was frightened and lied because she thought that the only thing to do was to claim she’d found it before Mr. Hines was murdered. She says that at that time she didn’t know Hines had been killed with her gun. That meant that the murder must have been committed while she was downstairs; she thought then that it had happened some time later — after she’d left the apartment.”

Mason asked, “Any particular reason why she should have told you all that?”

“Yes, there was. The police had someone in a cell with her, a cellmate thrown in on a charge of murdering her husband. The woman was sweet and sympathetic, and she and Adelle started exchanging confidences. She told Aunt Adelle all about her case, and Aunt Adelle loosened up and told her quite a bit. Well, when Aunt Adelle was being taken out of the cell to go through some formality, one of the other prisoners waited until the matron had moved off a little way, and then she whispered some underworld jargon to Aunt Adelle — about buttoning her lips because they’d thrown a ‘stoolie’ in with her. For a moment it didn’t register, and then Aunt Adelle got what it was all about, and now she’s panic-stricken.”

“She ought to be,” Mason said grimly. “What a sweet mess this is!”

Della had been watching the time, and now she said, “You’ll have to be leaving, Chief.”

Mason nodded, picked up his brief case and hat.

“Does this make much difference, Mr. Mason?” Cora asked nervously.

“Does it make much difference!” Mason’s tone was rough with sarcasm. “It only kicks her case out of the window. Once she admits falsifying that last sworn statement she made—” He broke off as the phone rang.

Della Street scooped up the receiver. “Hello. Yes — wait a minute, Paul. He’s just leaving.”

Mason quickly took the receiver from Della and said, “Hello, Paul. Anything new?”

Drake’s voice was excited. “Anything new! Listen, Perry. We’ve got it! The guy fell for it like a ton of bricks. My man had a grip full of washers, and—”

“Never mind that,” Mason cut in. “Give me the answer quick.”

“The bird rummaged around in the drawers and sold him fifteen keys, and one of them had stamped on it ‘Siglet Manor Apartments.’ ”

“You haven’t fitted it to Helen Reedley’s apartment?”

“Not yet, Perry. Have a heart — gosh, my man just got it. But we’re on our way down there now.”

“Okay,” Mason said. “That’s a load off my mind. It looks as though we were beginning to get somewhere. You can see what happened. He told Helen Reedley what Hines had said, and Helen Reedley recognized it at once as a blackmailing approach... Okay, Paul, I’ve got it now. It may be a way out. If anything turns up, call me in the anteroom of the Grand Jury — I’ll arrange things so I can take phone calls there. I’ll have Della come along to hand me messages in case I can’t go to the phone. Keep working on it. So long. I’m on my way.”

Mason hung up and nodded to Della.

As she gave him his hat and brief case she said demurely, “I happened to see Mae in the hall, Chief. She’s nice, isn’t she?”

Mason stopped and looked at his secretary with a steady scrutiny. She met his eyes, her own all wide-eyed innocence.

“I mean she’s just a good kid,” Della added.

Mason circled her with his arm and drew her to him. “So are you!”

Mason caught Mae Bagley just outside the Grand Jury anteroom. He nodded his head with a slight inclination toward a bend in the corridor and Mae Bagley followed him around the corner.

“Who’s in there?” Mason asked.

“Just about everybody.”

“Can you remember names?”

She smiled. “I got all the names — that’s why I’m out here waiting for you. I thought you’d like to know before you went in.”

“Good girl!”

She said, “There’s a man by the name of Clovis who I think has to testify about some numbers on some bills. He’s a banker.”

“I know him.”

“And Sam Dixon— You know him all right. And Tom Folsom, and the woman Carlotta Tipton, who I think is going to testify about some phone calls, and Helen Reedley and Orville Reedley. Those last two are staging a typical husband-and-wife act, sitting on opposite sides of the room and glaring across at each other.”

“All right. Now let me tell you something. You must have confidence in me and get this straight and do exactly as I tell you.”

“Anything in the world you say, Mr. Mason.”

“Did Della Street stop you in the corridor and tell you to disregard what I had said about—”

“Della Street?”

“My secretary.”

“Heavens, no, Mr. Mason! She must have gone down to the ladies’ room — I heard someone come out of your door, but I didn’t... ”

“Look here,” Mason said, “you’re lying. You can’t afford to lie to me.”

“No matter who asks me,” she said, “I’d swear, and will always swear, that Della Street never said a word to me.”

“All right,” Mason said. “We’ll let that go. But if she did, don’t pay any attention to what she said. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go to Gulling and tell him that you’ve changed your mind; that you’re going to tell the truth if you can get an agreement giving you complete immunity from perjury, from being an accessory, from everything — but that you want that agreement in writing, and you want it signed by him. Now go to him right away and get that.”

“But what shall I tell him when I once get the agreement?”

“Then,” Mason said, “tell him the absolute truth, every single bit of it. Do you understand? Don’t hide anything, except — well, of course, you don’t need to tell him about any conversation you may have had in the corridor outside my office.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mason — I wouldn’t admit that conversation if Saint Peter himself asked me about it.”

“Good girl!” Mason said. “Now go and get Gulling. I’ll come in a minute or two after you so that it won’t look suspicious.”

“Oh, I’ve been in and out, smoking and walking around. They’ve got me tabbed as the nervous type. That’ll make it look all the more convincing when I go to Gulling. He’ll think I’m cracking under the strain. You’re sure it’s all right? That you want me to do it, Mr. Mason?”