Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Lonely Heiress

Mason said, “Sit down and let’s discuss the matter. Do you think that being a wildcat, as you term it, buys you anything?”

Mrs. Caddo sank down in the big client’s chair and grinned at Perry Mason. “I know very well it does. That’s the way to handle Bob.”

“Of course,” Mason said, “all of these tirades, these fits of temper, gradually leave an indelible mark upon your character.”

“Oh, I suppose so,” she said wearily, “but just between you and me and the guidepost, Mr. Mason, I go through these tantrums just to protect my vested interests. They aren’t fits of temper. They’re an act.

“You see, Bob has piled up quite a little money in this racket of his. He’s smart enough to keep it where I can’t get my hands on it. I don’t mind too much if he philanders around a little, but I don’t want to have some little siren come along and then walk off with my share of the money. So whenever I think anything is getting serious, I raise Cain with Bob, then I find out who the woman is, and I certainly do put on an act with those women! And believe me, I’m good at that.”

“I dare say you are,” Mason said.

She said, “Well, I’m not going to take up any more of your time, Mr. Mason. It was nice of you to see me. You’ve been perfectly splendid about this. I came up here to make a scene and raise a rumpus in general, but somehow I don’t think it would have impressed you too much anyway. That’s the only thing that will hold Bob in line. He knows that about the time he gets to the gooey stage I’m going to come tearing along behind like a tornado and make everyone dig for the cyclone cellar. I knew this Marilyn Marlow wasn’t business, but it isn’t just a philandering proposition either. There’s something back of it all that I don’t like. I think Bob would like to pull a fast one there. Anyhow, I’m going to pay my respects to Marilyn Marlow and I’m going to call on Rose Keeling, and when I get done with those two women they’ll realize that crime doesn’t pay.”

Mason said, “I think, Mrs. Caddo, that perhaps this time it might be better just to work on your husband a little...”

“Nope,” she said determinedly, “it’s a system I’m playing, Mr. Mason. I don’t ever dare to vary it. The last time Bob did any philandering, I went up to the woman’s apartment, and I really wrecked the place. I tore her clothes off, blacked her eyes, smashed a mirror, just to give her bad luck for seven long years, and threw a few dishes around. The landlady came up and threatened to call the police and I told her to go ahead and call them and let it get put in the papers the sort of place she was running and the kind of tenants she had and the goings on that had been taking place there. Believe me, that put her in her place.

“After that I had the field all to myself and when I left, the landlady canceled the lease on the little tramp and I understand now she’s living in a dirty little bedroom and paying five times what it’s worth.

“Bob is a funny chap. He likes to play the wolf, but he hates a scene, and if I make enough of a scene it’s just like spanking a small kid. He shudders every time he thinks of the punishment... You’ve been perfectly grand, Mr. Mason. I’m glad now I didn’t slam the inkwells around. I was just going to sit out in the other office until I was certain you were in, and then I was going to push past that receptionist out there, march on in here and spread a little gloom around the place. I knew that would get back to Bob and I figured you’d make him pay for it. Well, thanks for seeing me, Mr. Mason. You’re a good sport.”

“I would respectfully suggest,” Mason said, “that in this particular instance you curtail your righteous indignation and refrain from calling on the two women whose names you have...”

"I’m sorry, Mr. Mason. I’m afraid you’re like Bob. I guess you don’t like a scene.”

“On the contrary,” Mason said, “I love them.”

“Boy, I’d like to have you along on this one,” Mrs. Caddo said. “It’s going to be a humdinger. Well, good-by. I guess I can get out this door all right... No, don’t get up. And do me one favor, Mr. Mason — if Bob asks if I was here, tell him I raised a row in the office and that you expect him to pay for the damages. Will you do that for me? No, I suppose you won’t. You’re truthful. But anyhow you’re nice and I know you’ll protect my confidence. Good morning.”

The door banged shut behind her.

Mason glanced at Della Street and said, “The joys of matrimony!”

“I don’t blame her a bit,” Della Street said. “You can take a look at Bob Caddo and see what he is. One of these old wolves that runs around pawing girls and trying to cut corners. She’s absolutely right. That’s the only way of holding him, and...”

“Get Marilyn Marlow on the phone,” Mason said wearily, “and I guess you’d better tell her to warn her friend, Rose Keeling, that I think a cyclone is on the way and it might be just as well if they weren’t available. I guess we owe that much to a client.”

“She’s going to be a client? You were to call her this morning.”

“That’s right. We’ll kill two birds with one phone call. I’ll tell her I’ll try and handle Rose Keeling for her and that an irate wife is on the warpath. I...”

The office door pushed open. Gertie, the receptionist, white-faced, said, "Gee, Mr. Mason, I heard her go out. Her husband’s out there and he’s worried sick. Gosh, it was just luck he didn’t walk in while she was out there. If he had, I’d have been in the middle of a real domestic battle.”

Mason grinned. “He knows how near he came to getting caught, Gertie?”

“Evidently not. He wanted to know if his wife had been here. I told him he’d have to ask you about that, and he’s out there pacing the floor like a caged lion.”

“I take it that he’s disturbed at the idea his wife may have been talking with me,” Mason said.

“Disturbed!” Gertie said. “Oh, Mr. Mason, you do use the mildest language! I tell you, the man’s having kittens!”

Mason winked at Della Street, said, “I’ll go out and see him. Hand me that inkwell, Della.”

While Gertie watched with fascinated eyes, Mason dipped his finger in the inkwell, rubbed one smear across the side of his cheek, said, “Now your lipstick, Della, just a faint line that will look like the aftermath of a scratch down from the forehead, across the nose — that’s right. Now I think, Gertie, we’re in a position to add to Mr. Caddo’s discomfiture. After all, I hate a client who’s a chiseler.”

Mason followed behind Gertie, out to the outer office. “Good morning, Mr. Caddo,” he said sternly.

“Oh, my God,” Caddo said, “my wife’s been here!”

“Your wife has been here,” Mason said.

“Now look, Mr. Mason, I’m not responsible for my wife. Honestly, it’s one of those things with her. She is subject to jealousy that amounts almost to insanity. I’m sorry this has happened, but, after all, you can’t blame it on me.”

“Why not?” Mason asked. “Isn’t there any community property?”

“Good heavens, you’re not going to sue a woman for a little fit of temper, are you?”

“A little fit of temper?” Mason asked, raising his brows.

“Now look here, Mason, I’ll do the right thing. I’ll be fair about this. I thought perhaps you were cheating yourself a little bit on that fee you fixed the other day. After all, there’s no reason why you and I can’t get along on this. I want to be fair. I want to do what’s right.”

“Was that the reason you rang up Marilyn Marlow and told her that the man with whom she was about to play tennis was a detective employed, by me?”