Erle Gardner: The Case of the Half-Wakened Wife

“Well, how high would you go?”

“Not very high,” Mason said, sitting down and crossing his legs. “Anyone want a cigarette?”

Shelby said, “I smoke cigars myself.”

Della Street and Ellen Cushing took cigarettes. While he was holding a match to Ellen Cushing’s cigarette, Mason sized her up.

She was a woman who might have been either in the late twenties or the early thirties, a blonde with impudent grayish-green eyes, a supple, well curved figure, although her waist was slender and her stomach was flat. She sat very erect in her chair, her knees crossed, the toe of her well shod foot carefully pointed downward.

She was conscious of Mason’s appraisal and her eyes raised from the flame of the match to regard the lawyer with quiet humor. It was as though she had said in words, “I knew I’d catch you doing that.”

Mason grinned, turned his attention back to Shelby, said, “If you thought this was going to be easy, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“I knew that as soon as you phoned.”

“Just so we understand each other,” Mason said.

“However,” Shelby said, “I don’t want you to think this is a shakedown. I really had no idea a sale was being made until Mrs. Keller told my agent at the bank.”

Mason’s silence could have shown either that he felt that point was now unimportant or that he thought the man was a liar.

Shelby watched him in thoughtful brooding silence.

“It’s your move,” Mason said.

“I intend to give written notice to the title company and serve a copy on Parker Benton that I have a lease on the property. In fact, I have already prepared such notice and will attach to it a copy of the lease. I don’t like to do it because the escrow is, I understand, about ready to be closed. Benton won’t want oil wells on his island. He is, of course, acting on the assumption he’s getting a clear title. They must have told him the place was free of clouds. My notice will make him take it subject to whatever rights I have.”

“You haven’t any.”

“The lease says I have.”

“A joker.”

“I don’t so regard it. After all, it doesn’t make any difference. Parker Benton isn’t going to pay thirty thousand for a lawsuit.”

“And you aren’t going to sue,” Mason said.

“I intend to, if I have to do it — to protect my rights. I hope I don’t have to.”

“It’ll cost you ten thousand dollars to find out if you have any rights,” Mason said.

“And take five years,” Shelby observed.

“At a hundred a month.”

“It’ll cost your client something, too.”

“Naturally,” Mason admitted.

“And the sale will be off the minute I serve this notice.”

“That won’t help you any.”

“It will hurt your client.”

“We might bond against your claim.”

“Benton wouldn’t stand for it. But let’s be reasonable, Mr. Mason. I don’t want to block that sale. I only wanted to keep the lease alive. I didn’t even know there was a sale pending until...”

“Yes, go on.”

“Until Mrs. Keller told my agent when he tendered her the five hundred dollars at the bank.”

“How did you know who was buying the property?”

“She told my agent.”

“Told him Parker Benton was buying it?”

“Yes.”

“How did you know that the escrow was just about ready to be closed and the deal concluded?”

Shelby’s eyes suddenly shifted. “I... I think she told him.”

“And I note that you know the amount of the purchase price. How did you get that?”

Shelby said abruptly, “I don’t think you’re doing yourself or your client any good by cross-examining me this way, Mr. Mason.”

“How much?” Mason asked.

Shelby looked him in the eye. “All right. Since you want the figure, it’s ten thousand dollars.”

Mason got to his feet, nodded to Della Street, said, “I guess that’s all.”

“You’d better think it over,” Shelby warned. “Benton is paying a great deal more for that island than it’s worth, a lot more than any other person would pay. It’s a most advantageous deal.”

Mason started for the door, turned, said, “I guess it’s only fair to tell you that when I start fighting I fight rather rough.”

“Go ahead,” Shelby said. “When you come right down to it, I am no gilded lily myself.”

“That makes it perfectly fine,” Mason said. “Just so we don’t misunderstand each other.”

“We don’t. Only get this straight, Mr. Mason. The minute you leave this office, I’m going to mail a notice to the escrow company.”

“All right,” Mason said. “And the minute you do that, I’m going to sue to set aside the lease on the ground of fraud. I’m going to sue you for slander of title. I’m going to look into the question of whether the lease was signed on the strength of false representations.”

“You go right ahead,” Shelby said. “And by the time you get done with all that stuff, Benton will have bought and sold half a dozen other country homes. Your client will be left with an island on her hands, and the island will be subject to my oil lease.”

Mason hesitated. “You think this offer of Benton’s is more than she’d get from anyone else?”

“Considerably more.”

“How much more?”

Shelby said, “The deal is for thirty thousand dollars. I consider that fifteen thousand dollars is a big price for the island. However, I’m willing to sell my interest in it for the ten thousand and that will still leave your client five thousand more than she could get from anyone else.”

“In other words, you think the island is worth only about fifteen thousand dollars?”

“That’s right.”

“And you want ten thousand dollars in order to step back and let this sale go through?”

“Put it that way if you want to.”

“But the figure is right? The amount is ten thousand?”

“Yes.”

“That’s bedrock?”

“Yes.”

Mason said, “All right. Remember that you yourself have adopted the position that the deal with Benton is a good many thousand dollars more than the island is really worth.”

“What’s the object in remembering that?”

Mason grinned. “It affects the measure of damages in case I go after you for slander of title. You interfere with this sale and I’ll stick you for damages.”

“You couldn’t get ’em if you did.”

“I’ll remember that, too.”

Shelby said, “I was hoping we could have settled this thing amicably, Mr. Mason.”

“Naturally, at that price.”

“I might come down a little.”

“How much?”

“Not over one thousand — or two thousand at the most.”

“That’s your final figure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good night,” Mason said, and held the door open for Della Street.

Shelby hurriedly got up, walked around his desk. “After all, Mr. Mason, there’s a great deal of money involved and...”

Mason stepped out into the corridor, pulled the door shut behind him, cutting off Shelby in midsentence.

They marched across to the elevators and pushed the button marked DOWN.

“Don’t you think he’d have made more concessions?” Della Street asked curiously in a low voice.

“Sure.”

“Then why not wait?”

“Because he’d have only come down to five thousand. The way things are now, he’ll get in a panic and start letting his hair down. There’s lots of time. Let him feel we’re tough and not too eager and he’ll get down to brass tacks.”

“You were pretty rough with him.”

“Uh huh.”

“Because you think he’s a chiseler?”

“Right.”

“And that witness?”

Mason laughed, “Quote witness unquote. She’s got her finger in the middle of the pie.”