Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Reluctant Model

“In which event,” Mason said, “we’ll demand that she be taken at once before the nearest and most accessible magistrate. Now then, if you have a warrant and want to serve it—”

“I don’t have a warrant,” Tragg said. “I want to question her.”

“Go on and question her,” Mason said.

“There’s not much use doing that if she won’t answer.”

“I’ll answer.”

“I don’t want your answers, I want hers.”

“Then go ahead and arrest her and we’ll go to the nearest and most accessible magistrate. Give me just a minute. I want to look up some good fighting trial attorney in Redding who will know the local ropes and who will back my play.”

“Now, wait a minute, wait a minute,” Tragg said, “you’re getting all out of line here. We don’t want to go off half-cocked on this thing. Let’s be reasonable about it.”

“How did you come up?” Mason asked. “Chartered plane?”

“A plane that is available to us on police work of this sort,” Tragg said.

“How big a plane?”

“A twin-motored five-place plane.”

“All right,” Mason said, “I’ll make you this proposition. We’ll agree to get in the plane and return to Los Angeles. I’ll make statements to you on the plane as to what I know about the aspects of the case in which you’re legitimately interested. When you get to Los Angeles, you can do as you see fit. You can have her indicted by the grand jury or do anything you want to, but she’s not going to talk. I’m going to do the talking.”

“What’s she going to do?” Tragg asked.

Mason smiled wryly and said, “All the way back on the airplane this poor kid is going to get some sleep.”

Tragg pursed his lips. “You want to telephone Rankin and get permission to represent her?” he asked.

“That’s right,” Mason said. “I want to be assured there will be no conflicting interests.”

“All right,” Tragg said. “I want to put in a call to Hamilton Burger, the district attorney at Los Angeles, and see how he reacts to this proposition of yours. I don’t think he wants to have an arrest made as yet; that is, I don’t think he wants to have her definitely charged with murder and I’m damned sure he doesn’t want to have her brought before a magistrate in Redding.”

“Okay,” Mason said, “we’ll declare a truce. We’ll leave her with Cole Arlington provided Arlington will agree that he won’t try to question her, and you and I will go put our phone calls through.”

“Let’s go,” Tragg said.

They went to the phone booth. Mason called Lattimer Rankin in Los Angeles. “Rankin,” he said, “I’ve been representing you in regard to that picture of Otto Olney’s. Durant has been murdered. I think they’re going to charge Maxine Lindsay with the murder and I’d like to represent her if you feel there’ll be no conflict of interests. But if I represent her, I’m going to be fighting for her tooth and nail.”

“Go ahead and fight for her,” Rankin said. “She’s a good kid. You say Durant was murdered?”

“That’s right.”

“I hope they find the person that did it,” Rankin said, “because he should have a medal. He—”

“Shut up!” Mason snapped. “Someone may ask you on the witness stand what you said when you heard that Durant had been murdered.”

“Oh, in that case,” Rankin said, “I will testify that I said what a shame it was and how I hoped they got the person who did the killing, and that’s all I’ll say. However, if you want to go ahead and read my mind, Mr. Mason, you’re at perfect liberty to do so. And by all means, represent Maxine.”

Mason hung up, opened the door of the phone booth, grinned at Lt. Tragg and said, “Go ahead and put through your call, Lieutenant, I’ll meet you at the table in the restaurant. I’m going over to see that this deputy sheriff doesn’t start asking too many questions.”

It was nearly ten o’clock that night when Perry Mason sat down opposite Lattimer Rankin in the latter’s house.

Rankin, tall, ungainly, seemed somehow ill at ease.

“I wanted to thank you for giving your consent so readily over the telephone this afternoon,” Mason said, “permitting me to represent Maxine Lindsay.”

“I certainly see no reason why I should stand in the way,” Rankin said, “if you want to represent her. It came as rather a surprise to me, and of course I was completely bowled over with the news of Durant’s death.”

“You seemed to be able to bear up under it,” Mason said dryly.

“Well,” Rankin said, “I’ve been thinking that over and I’m a little ashamed of myself, Mason. I suppose a man shouldn’t speak ill of the dead who can’t defend themselves. However, the man was a terrific bounder.”

“I want to find out what you know about him,” Mason said.

“It isn’t very much. He started buying and selling paintings on some kind of a commission basis and gradually pushed himself forward as an expert on art. I’ll say one thing for the man, he certainly was a worker. He’d study and he’d listen, and he never seemed to forget anything he ever heard. He had the most remarkable memory I have ever encountered.”

“How did he get his clients?” Mason asked.

“I don’t think he had so many clients but he was a sharpshooter. He’d pick up paintings and he seemed to know just who would be interested in any particular painting. He understood his potential customers.”

“He was good at that phase of the business?” Mason asked.

Rankin hesitated for a long moment, then conceded somewhat grudgingly, “Yes, he was good at that particular phase of the business. Very good.”

“And you’re perfectly willing for me to represent Maxine Lindsay in this case?”

“Are they going to charge her with murder?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What evidence do they have?”

“They’re not confiding in me,” Mason said. “I do know they have some evidence that they are not disclosing to the public at the present time and I believe they’ve recovered the murder weapon and traced that to Maxine, that is, proved that she owned it.”

Rankin crossed his long legs and frowned.

“Of course,” Mason went on, “if I’m representing her I have to represent her and her alone. If your general interests, for instance, should come in conflict with hers in this murder case, I’d be loyal to her interests. I’d do absolutely anything that was necessary in order to bring about her acquittal.”

“Certainly,” Rankin said. “I would expect that.”

“For instance,” Mason went on, “if it should turn out that you had murdered Collin Durant, I wouldn’t hesitate a minute. I’d uncover that evidence and brand you as the murderer. I’d have to do that in order to be fair with my client.”

“Go right ahead, Mason,” Rankin invited. “If you can prove I murdered the guy, you’re very welcome to do so.”

He chuckled for a moment, crossed his legs again and interlaced his long, bony fingers.

“I understand,” Mason said, “that the police found a great deal of money on Collin Durant when they found the body. I would like to know, Rankin, if you know anything about that money.”

“I don’t,” Rankin said, “and it bothers me. I happen to know that on the afternoon of the day of his death, Durant was pretty badly strapped. In fact, he rang up a friend of mine and told her he had need of a thousand dollars right then and asked her if she would either loan it to him or advance him the money on a painting he had and to which he said he had a good title.”

“What did this person tell him?” Mason asked.

“She told him no. She let him know quite definitely that she wouldn’t let him have a plugged nickel.”