Эрл Гарднер - Case of the Cautious Coquette

“No.”

She said, “Mr. Mason, I wonder — do you believe in Fate?”

“Why not?” Mason asked with a swift glance of appraisal.

She said, “It just happens, Mr. Mason, that I’m in need of someone to — to do something for me — a lawyer.”

Mason instantly became cautious. “I’m not in a position to take on any more responsibilities. I have a desk piled up with mail now and I...”

“But you took on this accident case and that only occurred day before yesterday.”

“That’s different. There was an element of urgency about it and, frankly, the case appealed to me.”

She said, “Mr. Mason, let me tell you something about my case. I think it will appeal to you.”

“I warn you, I can’t handle it.”

“Well, let me tell you anyway. I’ve been married twice. The first time was simply tragic. The last time I was — well, I was more cautious.”

“And it worked out all right?” Mason asked.

“It didn’t. My second husband was wealthy. That’s one thing that helped. I had made up my mind I’d never marry again, but then he came along and he had money and — well, I married him.”

“And the marriage broke up?”

“Yes, but I’m getting alimony.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred dollars a week,” she said.

Mason whistled.

“Well?” she asked defiantly. “Do you think that’s too much? You should see how much money he makes!”

“I take it you weren’t married very long,”

“Five years, and during that time he made a lot of his money.”

“That, of course, makes it different,” Mason admitted.

“And now he’s going into court trying to do something about my alimony, trying to get it reduced.”

“You can’t blame him for that.”

“I thought perhaps you could talk to him and...”

Mason shook his head emphatically. “In the first place it wouldn’t be ethical for me even to talk to him. Your husband has a lawyer representing him and...”

“No, he doesn’t, Mr. Mason.”

“You mean he’s taking the matter up with the Court by himself?”

“No, he... well, I’ll explain it this way. He had a lawyer who made an application to have alimony reduced about six months ago and the Court refused to do it. The judge intimated he thought my husband had got slightly the best of the property settlement. You see, I worked with my husband in his business, and I really made a lot of that money for him. My husband got peeved at the lawyer he had and swears that when he takes the matter up in court again he’ll do it himself.”

“He’ll probably wind up with some lawyer representing him, however,” Mason said.

“I don’t think so. Willard Allison Barton is a very determined, very ingenious individual. I think I’d be more afraid of him in a court than I would of any lawyer — except you, of course, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “I don’t do much work involving domestic relations.”

“Mr. Mason, will you please listen?”

“All right,” Mason said, settling back in his chair.

She said, “I’m going to marry again, and this time I really know it’s going to work out all right. This man is an older man and a wiser man. He’s very understanding. I feel differently about him than I have about the others.”

“Well,” Mason said, “that should dispose of the alimony matter. As soon as you get married again, your alimony will cease.”

“But can’t you see, Mr. Mason, I don’t want to bum my bridges. I’m really entitled to this alimony. If you should warn Willard Barton that you were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again, it would keep him from making a move.”

“But if all alimony is going to cease within a few months, why not...?”

She said bitterly, “I’m not going to let him off. I’d go to him and offer to settle the whole business for twenty-five thousand cash. He’d jump at that.”

Mason said coldly, “And you want me to engineer that deal for you, is that it?”

She started balancing the spoon on the edge of the coffee cup.

“Well?” Mason asked.

She said, “You think I’m terribly scheming and designing. I’m only cautious. I want to protect my interests.”

“So it would seem.”

“Mr. Mason, look at it from a business viewpoint. Think of what a fool I’d be to give up two hundred dollars a week for any man, any man.”

“If you were sure of having the alimony continue,” Mason pointed out.

“Mr. Hollister wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. You do think I’m a gold-digger, don’t you, Mr. Mason?”

“You’re certainly not madly in love.”

“Well, Mr. Mason, it isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’ve really been unfair to myself. As a matter of fact, it was Ross Hollister’s own idea — I did tell him that I had finished with marriage, that I wasn’t going to make any more matrimonial ventures, and then he asked me why and kept probing. You just have to see him to understand the sort of man he is. He’s very understanding and sympathetic, but he’s always probing. He has ways of working right into the back of your mind and pulling out ideas that you yourself hardly knew that you had.”

“So he found out that you were worried about giving up two hundred dollars a week and a perfectly satisfactory alimony for a husband. Is that right?”

“That’s right, and I’ll tell you what he did, Mr. Mason, all of his own accord. He put some property in trust so that it will be mine as soon as I marry him. He has already given me an insurance policy for twenty thousand dollars on his life and he’s agreed to see that I have an allowance of seven hundred and fifty dollars a month just for my own clothes and spending money and things — you know, my own personal expenses, quite outside of running the household, and he has a very swank convertible roadster ordered that he’s going to give me for my very own as a wedding present.”

“Well,” Mason asked, and then added dryly, “what more do you want?”

“I want his love and respect!” she blazed at him. “He’s already made these arrangements. The papers have even been signed. The insurance has gone through — and if my husband comes into court and asks to have the alimony reduced, Ross Hollister will never say a word, but all of our married life he’ll think I knew my financial boat was about to spring a leak and that I was looking for a transfer. Can’t you see the thing from my position?”

“You’re afraid that if your ex-husband starts a move to reduce the alimony Mr. Hollister will feel you knew that was coming, were afraid of the outcome and manipulated things so he...”

“Exactly!” she interrupted.

“When is your wedding going to take place?” Mason asked. “Why not hurry it up a little?”

She said, “Well, there’s a little trouble about that. Mr. Hollister has been married before and there’s some technicality — something about his divorce that’s holding things up temporarily.”

“I see,” Mason said.

“Mr. Mason, can’t you please go and talk with Willard Barton? He’s at the Broadway Athletic Club. He lives there... but you mustn’t give him any inkling, not even the faintest inkling as to the name of the man I’m going to marry.”

“Does he know Hollister?”

“Of course he knows him. Mr. Hollister is a member of the club, although he lives in Santa del Barra. Good heavens, Mr. Mason, they’ve even played poker together. Willard would die, just simply die, if he knew. In fact, you’ll have to be very tactful in talking to him. He’s inclined to be insanely jealous as far as I’m concerned — I guess that’s one of the troubles — one of the reasons our marriage didn’t work out better. He was always bringing my other husband into the conversation, wanting to know if I still didn’t care for him, and...”