“Why isn’t it going to happen again?” Mason asked.
“Because you won’t be here,” Burger said. “You’ll be in San Quentin. I’m tired of this and I’m not going to put up with it. You’re always juggling evidence around. This time you’ve worked this two-gun hocus-pocus so you hope that you can convince a jury that someone tampered with the evidence.”
“I think someone did tamper with the evidence,” Mason said. “I also think that someone deliberately attempted to frame Adelle Hastings for murder.”
“Well, we’ll just take the evidence and—”
“Now, wait a minute,” Mason interrupted. “If you’re going to take the wrapping paper out of this office you’re going to examine it right here so there can be no question that the paper had been cut open and—”
“Oh, I’ll concede that the paper had been cut open,” Burger said wearily. “That was all part of the scheme. But I’ll tell you what we’re going to do with you, Perry Mason. We’re going to take both of you down to the offices of the Hastings Enterprises.”
“I’m willing to go with you but Della Street has—”
“I don’t care what she has,” Burger snapped. “She can have a string of appointments as long as her arm but both of you are going down to that office and you’re going right now.”
Hamilton Burger, marching into the president’s office, proceeded to take charge of the Hastings business enterprises.
“I want all of the employees in here where I can talk with them,” he said. “I am Hamilton Burger, the district attorney. This is Lieutenant Tragg of the homicide division of the metropolitan police, and I have with me Mr. Perry Mason, an attorney who is representing Adelle Sterling Hastings, the widow of Garvin S. Hastings. And this is his secretary, Miss Della Street.
“Now, I want to get everybody together and I want some information about things that have happened here.”
There was an authoritative ring to Hamilton Burger’s voice, an ability to impress people and inspire confidence, and within a few minutes the big office was crowded with employees.
“First,” Hamilton Burger said, “I want to know who’s in charge.”
“I am,” a man said.
“And who are you?”
“I’m Connely Maynard. I have for some time been directly under Garvin Hastings.”
“All right, come up here by me,” Burger said.
Maynard, a man in his late thirties with high cheekbones, had steady gray eyes and a firm mouth which cut in a wide straight line above his massive jaw. He moved over to Hamilton Burger’s side.
“What do you know about Hastings’ affairs?” Burger asked him.
“I know virtually everything, Mr. Burger.”
“Did Hastings have a gun?”
“He did. Actually he had two guns.”
“What do you know about them?”
“They were, I believe, identical guns. Hastings purchased one gun which he kept in his house for protection. After he and his wife separated he purchased another gun. He gave her one and kept one. I don’t know whether he gave her the more recent purchase or whether he gave her the one he had, and kept the more recent purchase for himself.”
Burger looked at the semicircle of curious, anxious faces, said, “There’s a Simley Beason here?”
Beason stepped forward.
“Now, just what’s your capacity?” Burger asked.
Connely Maynard said, “Mr. Beason is directly under me. I have charge of the entire enterprises, Beason has charge of running the office.”
Burger regarded Beason. “What do you know about Mr. Hastings’ affairs?”
“Quite a bit,” Beason said modestly, “perhaps not as much as Connely Maynard but still I know quite a bit.”
“You knew about the two guns?”
“Yes.”
“How well do you know Adelle Hastings?”
“I know her quite well. I think all the older employees here do, Mr. Burger. She was employed as secretary before she and Garvin Hastings were married.”
“Was she popular?” Burger asked.
“I think she was.”
Burger turned to Maynard. “What do you think?”
Maynard hesitated for a moment, said, “I believe Adelle Sterling, before she became Adelle Hastings, was a very competent secretary. However, since she was Mr. Hastings’ personal secretary, my contact with her was confined to having her co-operate with me in the execution of instructions given by Mr. Hastings. I think that Beason, as the manager of the office, had more contact with her.”
“Hastings was married when she first started working here?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“Minerva Hastings.”
“And what became of that marriage?”
“There was a divorce.”
Burger looked at Beason. “Did Adelle Hastings have anything to do with that divorce?”
Beason said, “Minerva thought so.”
Burger looked around at the people in the office.
“Adelle broke up the marriage,” Maynard said quietly.
“All right,” Burger said, “we’ll dig into this in private. Now then, what I want to know is this: Who went to Perry Mason’s office at six o’clock this morning?”
“I did,” Simley Beason said.
“What did you do there?”
“I took a gun out of a desk drawer.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because,” Beason said with some feeling, “an attempt was being made to frame Adelle Hastings for something, and I didn’t propose to stand for it.”
“What’s your interest in the matter?”
“I wanted to see fair play.”
“What was the thing for which she was being framed?”
“I know now it was murder.”
“But you didn’t know then?”
“No.”
“But you did know that it was something serious enough for you to be taking a chance on larceny?”
“I didn’t stop to figure the legal effect of what I was doing.”
“Why did you go up there at six o’clock in the morning?”
“Because I wanted to get into the office. I found out that the cleaning woman started on Mr. Mason’s office at six o’clock in the morning.”
“We’ll go into some of this later and in private,” Hamilton Burger said grimly. “What I want to know now is what you did with the gun.”
“I wrapped that gun in tissue paper, then I wrapped it in heavy brown paper. I sealed the brown paper with transparent adhesive tape, then I typed a label stating what was in the package and fastened that label with adhesive tape to the paper, then I signed my name across the seals and put the sealed package in the bottom of my bag of golf clubs.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I put the golf clubs in my locker, locked the door of the locker, put the key to the locker back in my desk drawer in its accustomed place. Then later on when Mr. Hastings didn’t show up for his ten o’clock appointment I tried to call him, found that the tape recording answering service was still on and I drove out to Hastings’ house.”
“Did you get in?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Mr. Hastings kept a key here in the office so that in case it became necessary for him to send anyone out to the house there would be a key. Sometimes he would call on long distance telephone with instructions for someone to get an article from his house, perhaps a suitcase packed with fresh clothes, perhaps some papers which he had left at the house. I’ve been over all this with the police, answered all their questions and—”
“Never mind what you’ve been over with the police,” Burger snapped. “You’re going over it again, all of it. You’re answering my questions now. Where was that key kept?”
“In the closet of Mr. Hastings’ private office.”
“That’s this office?”
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