Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Shapely Shadow

“In other words, then, her effort to make herself look plain has back-fired. It’s had exactly the opposite effect of what she was trying to achieve.”

“It certainly has. It shows that she’s in love with Morley. At least, it convinces me she is.”

“And you don’t resent it?”

“Why should I resent it? If the girl wants to be in love with him, that’s her business.”

“And despite the fact you think there may have been some, let us say romantic interludes, you still make no effort to have him get a new secretary?”

Mrs. Theilman’s laugh was throaty. “Look, Mr. Mason,” she said, “this conversation is taking a highly personal turn.”

Mason smiled and said, “I’m sorry if I’ve gone too far.”

“You haven’t,” she said, “you’ve just opened a few doors and I walked through. I’m a frank creature myself and I accept the biological facts of life at face value.

“Now then, Mr. Mason, you can look around here and you see a very fine house, expensively furnished, and you can rest assured that I have no intention of letting some secretary grab my man away from me. I don’t care how Janice feels toward Morley. The thing that I’m concerned with is how Morley feels toward Janice. If she wants to make herself unattractive so she can hang around him, that’s okay with me. If she wants to make herself attractive, that’s still okay. And if he can’t forget what you have delicately referred to as romantic interludes, that’s still okay.

“But let that woman or any other woman start trying to get her hands into my security, and I’ll jerk the rug out from under her so fast she won’t know when she hit the floor... And I won’t do it by being a little bitch or making a scene or fixing things so my husband doesn’t want to come home nights.

“In short, Mr. Mason, the point is that I know my way around and I’m also smart enough to know that any time Morley L. Theilman isn’t happier at home than he is any other place, he isn’t going to want to come home.

“What’s more, I’m not foolish enough to try and hold a man by a sense of legal obligation. In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Mason, but I’m quite certain you have, I have looks and I don’t intend to waste those looks on any man who doesn’t appreciate them.

“According to my book that’s the main trouble with unhappy marriages. If a woman finds her husband is slipping, she doesn’t have guts enough and nerve enough to stand up and face the facts and clear out of the picture while she still is attractive to other men. She temporizes and nags and becomes frustrated and loses her looks and then the inevitable happens and she’s cast out on the world and sings the same old familiar dirge that she gave her husband the best years of her life.

“I’m giving Morley Theilman the best years of my life and I want him to know it and I want him to appreciate it and I want to be compensated for it.

“Now then, Mr. Mason, somehow or other you’ve drawn me out and know a lot more about me than I permit most men to know. You have a very adroit way of getting people to talk. I’ve said all I want to and I probably wouldn’t have said that much if it hadn’t been for the fact that I’m worried sick about Morley and I needed a shoulder to cry on.

“Now then, I’ve done my crying and that’s that.”

“You say you’re worried about your husband?”

“Of course I’m worried about him.”

“You think something may have happened to him?”

“Mr. Mason, I’m not clairvoyant. I’m a wife. And I’m a worried wife. And if you were in my position I think you’d be worried.

“I gather that you’re looking for my husband. Somehow I have an idea your methods are going to be highly personalized, somewhat individual and perhaps a little more spectacular than those of the police. I’m not going to detain you any longer. I want you to get on the job... I don’t suppose you’d be in a position to accept a retainer from me and act as my attorney?”

“Do you think you need one?”

“I’ve asked you a question. Answer my question and then I’ll answer yours.”

“No,” said Mason thoughtfully, “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be in a position to accept a retainer from you. I might, but on the other hand certain interests might become adverse. I don’t think they would, but there’s always that outside possibility.”

“That answers my question,” she said, “and because of that answer there’s no reason for me to answer yours... I’ll tell you this much, Mr. Mason. I think Morley is in trouble. I think he’s in deep trouble and I think he’s dealing with people who could play rough.”

She rose and walked toward the door. “Thank you for dropping in, Mr. Mason, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

The lawyer followed her to the door, conscious of her superb figure, the well-tailored, tight-fitting dress; conscious also of the fact that she knew he was appraising her figure and didn’t resent it.

At the doorway she turned suddenly and extended her hand. Her blue eyes laughed up into his. “Thank you very much, Mr. Mason,” she said, “for all that you’ve told me.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more,” Mason said.

“But you did,” she answered.

“Did what?” Mason asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Told me more,” she said. “More, perhaps, than you realized,” and with that she gently closed the door.

Back in his office Mason said to Della Street, “Anything new from Paul, Della?”

“Not yet.”

“All right,” Mason said. “I have a job for you.”

“What?”

“Go grab a quick lunch and look up the case of Theilman versus Theilman,” Mason said. “See if the case came to trial or whether it was settled. Find out the exact dates. Look in the newspaper files and see what you can dig up.”

Della Street put a notebook and some pencils into her purse, smiled at Mason and said, “On my way. What was Mrs. Theilman like?”

“That,” Mason said, “is hard to tell. She’s difficult to describe.”

“Oh-oh,” Della Street said.

“What’s the matter?”

“When a man refers to a woman as being difficult to describe, and she’s young, attractive, and has been a corespondent...”

“What makes you think she was a corespondent?” Mason asked.

“The same thing that makes you think so,” Della Street said. “That’s why you’re sending me out to look up the reports on the case, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.” Mason grinned.

“I’m quite sure it is,” Della Street said, and went out.

In an hour and a half Della Street was back in the office.

“Well?” Mason asked.

She said, “There’s a difference in viewpoint.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said Mrs. Theilman was hard to describe. She might be hard for a man to describe but she’s easy for a woman.”

“How do you describe her?” Mason asked.

“You wouldn’t like it,” she said.

“No?”

“No.”

“What did you find out?”

“The woman who is now Mrs. Morley Theilman,” Della Street said, “was in Las Vegas wearing the highly impossible name of Day Dawns. She was a hostess, an entertainer, a show girl, and she had her eye out for the main chance.”

“You mean she was for sale?” Mason asked.

Della Street said, “Let’s put it this way. She was for rent. Now she’s on a long-term lease.”

“You mean she was a cheap little—?”

“Don’t be silly,” Della Street interrupted. “There was nothing cheap about her. She’s class to her finger tips and, believe it or not, there’s nothing common about her. But she knew which side of the bread had the butter. In fact, she studied all there was to know about butter.