Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Spurious Spinster

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Even Paul Drake was convinced... this time, Perry Mason’s client was guilty!
Although Amelia Corning, owner of the Corning mine interests, was confined to a wheel chair, no one had the misconception that she was a gentle, little old lady. Half-blind and crippled, she might be, but lesser characters quailed before her steel-trap mind and razor-sharp tongue — and Susan Fisher was no exception.
How could Susan explain the discrepancies she found in the company accounts, or the shoe box she had wrested from the district manager’s 7-year-old son — a shoe box filled with $100 bills?
She couldn’t. That’s why she went to Perry Mason, and in no time flat the lawyer was walking the worst tight rope of his legal career. As for Miss Corning, she barely missed being wheeled out feet first.

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Mason studied the man who came striding towards the elevators: a figure in the late thirties with broad shoulders, a fairly slim waist, a powerful neck, a heavy jaw, thick eyebrows, and eyes that seemed strangely intent.

The man came walking towards them and apparently was so preoccupied that it wasn’t until he was within a few feet of Susan Fisher that he noticed her.

“Susan,” he said, “what in the world is the meaning of all this? I—”

“I want you to know Mr. Perry Mason, the lawyer,” Susan said, “and his secretary, Della Street. Mr. Mason is going to be my lawyer.”

If she had pulled out a gun and fired a shot point-blank at Endicott Campbell he couldn’t have come to a more abrupt stop or seemed more dismayed.

“An attorney!” he exclaimed.

“Exactly,” Mason said, stepping forward and extending his hand. “How are you, Mr. Campbell? I’m representing Susan Fisher.”

“But what in the world does she need an attorney for?” Endicott Campbell asked.

“That remains to be seen,” Mason said. “Did you wish to discuss certain matters with her?”

“I asked her here to discuss certain private business problems and they’re problems which affect the company. Some of them are confidential. I don’t care to have an audience.”

Mason, seeing advantage in Campbell’s surprise, took the initiative, said, “There was the matter of a shoe box containing some hundred-dollar bills, Mr. Campbell. You seemed to question my client’s word about that and that’s one of the things I want to have settled.”

“That’s one of the things I want to have settled,” Campbell said, turning savagely to face Susan Fisher. “Now then, Susan, what the devil did you mean by trying to hide behind a seven-year-old boy and drag him into your peculations?”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Susan asked.

“You know very well what I mean. This cock-and-bull story you dreamed up about Carleton having a shoe box full of money.”

“But he had it.”

“Bosh!” Campbell said. “He didn’t have any such thing.”

“Have you asked him?” Mason inquired.

Campbell whirled to Mason and said, “I don’t need to ask him. And as far as I’m concerned you have no official status in this party at all.”

Mason said, “You have just accused my client of peculations. The accusation was made in the presence of witnesses. Now, just what do you mean by peculations?”

“She knows what I mean,” Campbell said, “and I don’t think I need to elaborate on it in view of the fact that you quite obviously are simply tagging along here hoping that you can find some grounds for a damage suit... Well, I’ll tell you something, Mr. Perry Mason, you’re going to have something a lot more serious to occupy your attention if you’re going to represent this young woman.”

Campbell turned again to Susan Fisher. “Now then, since you apparently would like to trap me into making accusations I’ll simply content myself with asking questions. What about that box of money that you told me about over the telephone?”

“What do you want to know about it?”

“Where did you put it?”

“In the safe.”

“And then what did you do with it?”

“Nothing. I left it in the safe.”

“Well, it isn’t there now,” Endicott Campbell said.

“What!” she exclaimed.

“What’s more, you know it... All right, I won’t make any accusations in view of the fact that you’re represented by competent counsel. However, I’ll just state this, Susan Fisher, that you told me about having a box of hundred-dollar bills in your possession in the office. Now I’m calling on you to produce that box of hundred-dollar bills.”

“I take it,” Mason said dryly, “you have already been to the office.”

Campbell turned to face him, studied him with hostile eyes and said, “I see no reason to answer that question. On the other hand, I see no reason not to answer the question. I have been to the office. I have opened the safe. I have looked for the box where she said it was and it wasn’t there.”

“And,” Mason said, “what does that prove?”

“It proves she’s lying.”

“In what way?”

“All right,” Campbell said, “I’ll put it this way. Let her prove she isn’t lying. She didn’t have any witnesses as to the amount of money in that box. She didn’t even have any witnesses as to the existence of the box.”

“And you think she should have?” Mason said.

“It would have been a commendable precaution as far as her veracity is concerned.”

“So you went to the office and there wasn’t any box in the safe.”

“That’s right.”

“No money, no box?”

“No money, no box.”

“And who were your witnesses?”

“My witnesses? What do you mean?”

“It would have been a commendable precaution,” Mason said.

“Why, you... you—!” Campbell sputtered.

“At some stage of the inquiry,” Mason said, “you might be interrogated as to how anyone knows you didn’t find the box there.”

“Well, I didn’t, and I think my word is good enough to stand up in any court of law.”

“That will depend on several things,” Mason said.

“Such as what?” Campbell sneered.

“On the manner in which you’re cross-examined,” Mason said, “and how you comport yourself on cross-examination... Now, I believe you have an appointment with Amelia Corning?”

“I do.”

“And I want to see Amelia Corning,” Mason said. He turned to Sue Fisher. “What’s her suite, Miss Fisher?”

“The Presidential Suite on the twenty-first floor.”

“Then we all may as well go up,” Mason said. “I’d like to ask Miss Corning a few questions and I’d also like to make certain that Mr. Campbell doesn’t make any insinuations or plant any prejudices in Miss Corning’s mind before we have a chance to get a showdown on this.”

“You can’t come up,” Campbell said. “This is a private appointment. This is a matter of business and you have no right to horn in on it.”

“And who,” Mason asked, “is going to stop me?”

Campbell squared his shoulders, then regarded the rugged features and broad shoulders of the lawyer. “Before you go too far with this thing,” he said, “it might interest you to know that I am considered a very good boxer.”

“And before you go too far with this thing,” Mason told him, “it might interest you to know that I’m considered one hell of a good fighter.

With that the lawyer turned his back on Campbell and marched towards the elevators.

Della Street took Susan Fisher’s arm, followed the lawyer.

Campbell started to follow them, then turned and said, “All right, I’ll get the house detective if I have to.”

Mason paused for a moment thoughtfully, watching the departing Campbell.

“Will he get the house detective?” Della Street asked.

“I don’t know,” Mason said, “but first I think he’ll go to the room telephones, get Miss Corning, and ask her not to see us.”

“I’m satisfied she’ll see me ,” Susan Fisher said. “She’s nice and she likes me. She distrusts him already.”

“Well, let’s go and find out how she feels,” Mason suggested.

They entered one of the elevators, went to the twenty-first floor and Susan Fisher led the way down the corridor to the Presidential Suite.

Mason pressed the bell button on the door. They could hear chimes and farther in the interior of the suite they could hear the presistent and intermittent ringing of a telephone bell.

Mason tried the bell buzzer again and knocked at the door. He frowned, and said, “She wanted the appointment at eight forty-five, Miss Fisher?”

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