Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Reluctant Model

Mason hesitated a moment, then said, “I think that covers it. Make a blank for Mr. Olney to sign, type the words ‘Otto Olney’ underneath the blank, and I guess that’s all. Can you get that letter out right away?”

“Within a very few minutes,” Della Street said, watching Mason’s face curiously to see if he was giving her some signal.

Mason, completely poker-faced, nodded. “Go right ahead, Della.”

Della looked from Mason to Olney. Mason took out his cigarette case, said, “Want to smoke, Mr. Olney?”

“No, thank you,” Olney said. “I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a lot of things to do— Oh, I suppose you want me to sign that letter and I suppose I should have that letter in my possession in case anything is said about my disregarding the subpoena.”

“Yes. You’ll have to wait for it,” Mason said. “But it will only be a few minutes. Don’t you think you’d better check with Hollister?”

Olney looked at his watch, started to say something, changed his mind, settled back in the chair and said, “No need to bother Hollister. I’ll handle this. All of this has, of course, come as a terrific shock to me. I put great value on that Phellipe Feteet painting. I have instructed Rankin to buy more of them if he can find them at anything like a reasonable price. I’m telling you that in confidence, Mr. Mason, it’s not to be given to the press.”

“I understand,” Mason said.

“I’m a nut on Phellipe Feteet,” Olney confessed. “I wouldn’t take a hundred thousand for that one painting I have and I’ll pay up to thirty thousand for any more.”

Mason said, “This man Goring Gilbert is quite a character. The man has a remarkable amount of ability. He’s made a copy of your Phellipe Feteet that is really remarkable.”

Olney said, “I’d like to correct you on one thing, if I might, Mr. Mason. It isn’t a copy, it’s a forgery.”

“Wouldn’t it be difficult to make a forgery of that sort from memory?” Mason asked.

“I assume that it would. I suppose, however, that there are colored photographs available of the painting. After all, it had had two prior owners before I purchased it.”

“I assume so,” Mason said, “but it certainly takes a high degree of skill to copy a painting of that sort, no matter how it’s done.”

“I most certainly agree with you on that,” Olney said.

Della Street returned with the letter.

Mason looked at it, passed it across to Olney and said, “Sign right there, if you will, Mr. Olney.”

Olney signed.

Mason said, “I think, Della, that in order to satisfy the Court in this matter it would be a good plan to have Mr. Olney swear — just hold up your right hand and swear that the facts contained in that letter are true, Mr. Olney. Della Street is a notary public.”

Olney said, “Now, wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about swearing.”

“It’s just a formality,” Mason said. “I think you’d better just put a notarial certificate on there, Della, and Mr. Olney, if you’ll hold up your right hand—”

Olney said, “I don’t sign anything under oath without consulting my attorney.”

“What’s the difference between making a statement to me,” Mason asked, “and swearing to it?”

“You know what the difference is.”

“Well, that statement is correct, isn’t it?” Mason asked.

Olney said, “I’ve told you my position, Mr. Mason. Right now I’m not certain that I understand yours and if I do understand it, I’m not certain I appreciate it.”

“Well, if you don’t appreciate it, perhaps you don’t understand it,” Mason said. “By the way, I’m trying to find out where Durant got those one-hundred-dollar bills. You know, a man can’t just pick up a lot of one-hundred-dollar bills by walking into some place of business and asking to cash a check, and those bills must have come from a bank.”

“I would assume so,” Olney said, his eyes studying Mason with sudden wariness.

“I’ll tell you what,” Mason said. “You can make an affidavit for me and I’ll use that affidavit to present to the Court tomorrow, an affidavit that you know nothing whatever about the case, that you didn’t give Durant any one-hundred-dollar bills, that you didn’t—”

“Who says I didn’t give him any hundred-dollar bills?” Olney asked suddenly.

“Why, you mentioned in the letter there that you didn’t have any business transactions with him.”

“Well, that doesn’t— Well, I didn’t, but— Well, I could have loaned the man money.”

“Did you?” Mason asked.

“I think that’s a matter I don’t care to discuss at the moment, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Gosh, Olney, I’m sorry. If you gave him any money in the form of hundred-dollar bills, you’re going to have to go to court tomorrow.”

Olney said, “Now, wait a minute, Mason. You told me I didn’t have to go to court.”

“Predicated on your assurance that you knew nothing about the matter and had had no business transactions with Durant,” Mason said.

The door from the outer office opened, and Lt. Tragg came bustling in. “All right, Perry,” he said. “You told me to get here and I got here. I had to violate a few police regulations in regard to code one and the use of siren and red spotlight in order to do it, but here I am.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Mason said. “You know Mr. Olney, Lieutenant Tragg?”

“I know him,” Tragg said.

“Olney has just told me,” Mason said, “that he loaned Durant some money in the form of hundred-dollar bills. How much was it, Mr. Olney?”

Olney said, “Now wait a minute. What is this? I’m not going to be interrogated here, and furthermore I didn’t tell you any such thing.”

“I certainly understood you to say that you had given Durant some one-hundred-dollar bills,” Mason said.

“I said I could have. I could have advanced the man some money. I could have cashed a check.”

“Did you?” Mason asked, catching Lt. Tragg’s eye.

“Actually I... I felt sorry for the guy and it’s for that reason that I was so absolutely astounded when he made that statement disparaging the authenticity of my Phellipe Feteet painting. That’s one of the most prized paintings in my entire collection.”

“Then may I ask just how much money you gave him from time to time and when you gave it to him?”

“You may not,” Olney said, “and the more I see of your attitude, Mr. Mason, the more I realize that I made a mistake in trusting you and coming here without my attorney. I’m going to call my lawyer and—”

“Now, just a minute,” Lt. Tragg interrupted. “If you’re not going to tell Mr. Mason about this, you’d better tell me. Durant had ten thousand dollars, or just about ten thousand dollars, on him when he was found dead. Now, how much of that came from you?”

Olney said, “Who said any of it came from me?”

“Nobody said that,” Tragg said. “I’m asking you how much of it came from you. Now be careful what you say. This is a murder case, Olney.”

“You have no right to get me up here and start badgering me.”

“I’m not badgering you,” Tragg said, “I’m investigating a murder case. I’m asking a question. I didn’t get you up here. You came up here.”

“Well, your question is one I don’t intend to answer. Not that I have anything to conceal, but I have some complicated business transactions and I just have a general understanding that I won’t do anything without my attorney.”

“Then you’d better telephone your attorney and ask him to come over here,” Mason said. “Miss Street can do it for you. Della, will you ring up Mr. Hollister and tell him that Olney would like to have him over here?”