Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Reluctant Model

“To give you money?”

“That’s right.”

“As a bribe?”

“No, no. As traveling expenses. I was to get started and I was to go down to Mexico and just disappear.”

“And he was going to give you your traveling expenses?”

“That’s right.”

“When?”

“Well, he came there about six o’clock and told me that he’d be back within an hour with money if he could get it. If he wasn’t back in an hour with the money, I was to leave the apartment, go to the bus terminal and wait for him there. He said he’d be there if he missed me at the apartment.”

“He didn’t come back to the apartment?”

“He never came.”

“So what did you do?”

“I waited for a good hour and then left the place and went to the bus terminal, just as he had told me to. I was in a panic. I didn’t really have money enough to travel, but Collin had told me to get out — and he meant it.”

“He told you he wanted you to be where I couldn’t find you?”

“Yes. He said you’d try to take my deposition and he couldn’t have that happen.”

“Yet in spite of that you got in touch with me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you see? I couldn’t call you from my apartment or from anyplace where he’d know I was calling. But you’d been so nice... I hated to let you down. So I went to the bus terminal. I was to meet him there if he didn’t get to the apartment in an hour. He said to wait there at the terminal until eight o’clock.”

“And you decided to risk a call to me?”

“Yes. I wanted to let you know I was leaving — I felt you were entitled to that much. I remembered what you’d told me about getting in touch with the Drake Detective Agency after office hours and I called them and told them I simply had to get in touch with you.

“I felt you’d protect my confidence and Durant would never know I had called you... Well, then it got past eight o’clock and he didn’t show up at the terminal as he had promised. I was desperate. I left the number there — and then you called. I just wanted to tell you I was leaving — but you wanted to see me — and by that time I’d made up my mind Durant wasn’t going to meet me or give me any money and that I’d have to get out on my own... So I decided to meet you and explain as much as I dared, and then drive up to my sister’s place. I knew Durant could locate me there if he really wanted... and give me the money to go to Mexico.”

Mason said, “Maxine, I’m not your attorney, but I do feel that I should tell you one thing in fairness to you.”

“What?”

“The police are going to look at things in an entirely different manner than you do.”

“Oh, I suppose so,” she said wearily.

“Now, wait a minute,” Mason said, “pay attention. The police are going to think that Durant had some hold on you, that he was trying to get you to do something that you didn’t want to do.”

“Well, they’re right. I told you that, Mr. Mason. I’d admit it.”

“And,” Mason went on, “that Durant told you he was coming back to your place with money — not at six-thirty, not at seven-thirty, but at about eight o’clock. That he came up there at eight o’clock. That you had an argument. That he was telling you what you had to do and you didn’t want to do it. That he was a shrewd chiseler who was holding something over you and he had an idea that perhaps you had a detective concealed in the apartment somewhere so he decided to reassure himself as to that before he committed himself by making any statements.

“He looked in the kitchenette, then he looked in the bathroom, jerked the curtains of the shower aside to see if you had someone planted there, and that as he stood there with his back to you, you whipped a gun out of your purse and shot him in the back. Then you dashed out, tried to communicate with me, made up all this story about what he was doing, and all this song and dance about the canary and gave Della Street the key to your apartment with the idea that she was to go and get the canary; that you did all this simply so you could get out of the state and have a head-start; and that when Della Street went to the apartment and discovered Durant’s body and notified the police, you’d have a story to tell and an alibi of sorts.”

“Good heavens, Mr. Mason, I didn’t kill him. I—”

“I’m telling you what the police are going to think,” Mason said, “and the assumption on which they’re going to work.”

“They could never prove anything like that,” she said, “because it isn’t so, not any of it. I didn’t kill him.”

“Can you prove you didn’t?” Mason asked.

She looked at him with dawning apprehension on her face.

“After all,” Mason said, “he was killed in your apartment and while they haven’t found the murder weapon yet, there’s always a chance that...”

The lawyer broke off at the look on her face.

“I see I’m beginning to register now,” he said.

“The gun that killed him. What kind of a gun was it?”

“Apparently a small-caliber revolver,” Mason said.

“I... I—”

“Go on,” Mason told her.

“I had such a gun in the apartment. I kept it right in the dresser drawer — for protection.”

Mason’s smile was skeptical.

“You must believe me, Mr. Mason, you simply must! ”

“I’d like to,” Mason said. “You make a good impression. But after all, Maxine, this is your first attempt at concocting a story. Remember, I’ve heard hundreds of them.”

“But this isn’t a story that I’m concocting. It’s the truth.”

Mason said, “I know, Maxine. You go ahead and handle it the way you want to. I just felt that it was my duty to point out to you that the police were going to build a case against you.”

“But what can I do?”

“I don’t know,” Mason told her, “and remember this, Maxine. I am not your lawyer. I would suggest that you go from here to the best lawyer in Redding; that you use the twenty-five dollars you have received as a retainer, and that you tell him you understand a man has been found murdered in your apartment in Los Angeles. You ask him to get in touch with the police and see if they want to interrogate you.”

She said, “Collin Durant was playing his cards close to his chest. He told me that Mr. Olney’s picture was a fake; to tell Rankin. Then, after I’d told Mr. Rankin, he said that was exactly what he’d wanted me to do.”

“Did he tell you why he wanted you to tell Rankin?”

“He said he was laying for Mr. Rankin.”

“And that he wanted Rankin to sue him?”

“Not in so many words. He just said he was laying for Rankin.”

“Not Olney?”

“No, just Rankin. Then he came to me and told me that I had to get out fast. He said I had an hour but that I was to walk out casually without taking even so much as a toothbrush. He said he’d meet me at the bus terminal before eight o’clock if he didn’t get back to the apartment before I left. He said I was to go to Mexico, that I could stay in Acapulco if I wanted, but that I had to take the bus to El Paso, and then go on down to Mexico City.”

“Did he have a key to your apartment?”

“Not that way. He had one last night. He made me give him one of mine.”

“Last night?”

“Yes. I had two keys. I gave him one and then later I gave Miss Street the other.”

“Why did he want one of your keys if you were leaving?”

“He said he was going to check the apartment and make certain I hadn’t left any notes or made it seem I’d skipped out. He said I was to take just the clothes I was wearing, no suitcase, nothing. I was just to walk out — casually.