Erle Gardner - The Case of the Haunted Husband

“Well, why mix into Tanner’s case so deep that you...”

“Tragg wouldn’t have let me be free to work. He would have had me all sewed up.”

“You mean just because you reported a murder?”

Mason laughed. “Sure. Look at it from Tragg’s view-point. He leaves me to go get a sandwich, and I run out and turn up another corpse.”

“Well, he knows you were there now.”

“Thanks to that telltale feather,” Mason said. “That was an unforeseen break which went against me.”

“Then you are in hot water now?”

“Well, I can feel it getting warm,” he admitted. “Come on, let’s get back to the table and hold Drake in line. He may get ideas of his own if we leave him alone too long, and I want to put through a couple of telephone calls.”

“To whom?”

“Oh, to some people I think Tragg should check up on.”

They circled the dance floor until they were near their table, then Mason escorted her back to her chair. “Hold the fort,” he said to Drake, “I am going to telephone.”

Drake said, “The waiter was here. He told me you said you wanted the dinner served right along.”

“Yes. We might even skip the soup and get busy on the steaks. It may be quite a while, Paul, before we get nice tender filet mignon again.”

Drake winced. “I wish you wouldn’t kid about it. Tragg really means business this time.”

“Uh-huh,” Mason agreed.

He skirted the dance floor, picked his way between the tables to the telephone booth, and dialed Homan’s unlisted telephone number. A few moments later, he heard the voice of the Filipino boy on the line.

“Is Mr. Homan there?” Mason asked.

“Who is this talking please?”

“This is Mr. Mason, the lawyer.”

“Oh, I am sorry, sah. He is very busy. He leave a message that no one is to disturb, no matter who. But perhaps...”

“Okay, Felipe, tell Mr. Homan to remember that you didn’t go out tonight. Do you understand? You didn’t go out.”

The boy’s voice showed surprise. “But I have not gone out, Mr. Mason. I am here all evening.”

“That’s the stuff,” Mason said, and hung up the telephone.

Mason consulted his notebook, found the telephone number of Mona Carlyle, the employee at Rigley’s Cafeteria, and called her.

“Miss Carlyle,” he said, when he had her on the telephone, “this is Mr. Mason. I am speaking on behalf of Mr. Drake. Mr. Drake offered Mrs. Warfield a position. For some reason best known to herself she decided not to take that position and left the hotel where she was to stay until Mr. Drake told her where and when to report.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Mason,” the voice at the other end of the line said. “I simply can’t help you at all. I don’t know a thing about her.”

“I understand that is the case,” Mason said, “but it occurs to me that she may get in touch with you within the next few hours.”

“Why? What makes you think so?”

“I don’t know,” Mason said. “Perhaps it is just a hunch. When she does, would you mind telling her that I have verified my information about her husband, and that if she wants complete information about him, I will be only too glad to give it to her. But she must get in touch with me personally. Will you tell her that in case she communicates with you?”

“Why, yes,” she replied dubiously. “I will tell her, but really, Mr. Mason, I haven’t the faintest idea that she will get in touch with me...”

“I think she will,” Mason said. “And thank you very much.” He dropped the receiver into place.

He returned to the table where Drake and Della Street were conversing in low tones. Della looked up, smiled, and said, “I am glad you are back. Every time they get me alone, it is the same old story.”

“Trying to pump you?” Mason asked as he sat down.

“Uh-huh. I am afraid I am losing my sex appeal. He used to try kidding me along. Now he has changed his objectives.”

Drake said, “Dammit, Perry, you are always dragging me into some mess, and then making me go at it blind.”

“I know,” Mason said soothingly, “but it is better that way, Paul. It keeps you from getting gray.”

“Well,” Drake said, “couldn’t you satisfy my curiosity? Just off the record?”

“There isn’t any such thing as off the record, Paul. You are too conscientious. You wouldn’t take a brick out of the chimney to drop it on an escaping murderer.”

“That was a swell illustration you gave Tragg,” Drake said, “but you couldn’t have made it stick with me. I know you too well. You pull the house down and leave only the loose brick in the chimney standing.”

“But,” Mason smiled, “I put it all back together again.”

“You have so far. This time you shall be like all the king’s horses and all the king’s men who couldn’t put Humpty-Dumpty together again.”

“Only in this case,” Mason said, “Humpty Dumpty hasn’t fallen off the wall.”

“What were your telephone calls?” Della Street asked.

“Oh, just something to keep Tragg out of mischief. He has been afraid to go after Homan, knowing Homan will pin his ears back through some political pull. Well, this time I have put him in such a position he will have to either fish or cut bait. And the second call is insurance. He will let me stay in circulation now. We may as well settle down to enjoy our dinners.”

“You aren’t going to try to leave here?”

“Not until after Tragg comes back to ask me about the young woman with whom I was seen in the elevator. I...”

A bus boy approached the table. “Are you Mr. Mason?”

“Yes.”

“Lieutenant Tragg wants to talk with you on the telephone.”

Mason said, “The lieutenant is saving time. I guess you folks will have to excuse me once more. Oh, waiter. Just go ahead and serve the dinner. We will have to hurry.”

Mason went to the telephone. Tragg’s voice said, “Mason, one of the elevator operators recognizes your photograph.”

“My photograph!”

“Yes.”

“Where in the world did you get one of my photographs?”

Tragg said, “If you think I am going to play around in your backyard without having a photograph of you all ready for emergencies, you are badly mistaken.”

“Well, that’s a commendable piece of foresight. What about the elevator boy?”

“He picked you up on the third floor. There was a young woman with you. Now what were you doing on the third floor, and who was the young woman?”

“The bellboy has identified my picture?” Mason asked.

“That is right.”

“The identification is positive?”

“Absolute.”

“Then,” Mason said, “the young woman must have been my client. Don’t you think that is a reasonable deduction, Tragg?”

Tragg’s voice held an edge. “Mason, this is murder. I am not going to play horse. I know you usually have an ace in the hole, but this time I am calling for a showdown.”

“I can’t answer any questions about any young woman with whom I was ever seen by an elevator boy in any downtown hotel at any time when any murder was committed,” Mason said. “It is a policy of the office. I think that covers the situation, Lieutenant?”

Tragg said, “Mason, I am going to let you stay out of jail until eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Why the generosity?” Mason asked.

“Because,” Tragg said, “I am going to put you on the spot. I am going to turn you loose on Homan. You have been trying to get me to stick my neck out. Now I am going to let you pull some of my chestnuts out of the fire.”

Mason said, “I don’t have to ask him a single question. Mrs. Greeley’s testimony will take care of everything.”

“Did you think that crude trick was going to fool me?” Tragg asked.