Erle Gardner - Case of the Beautiful Beggar

“Okay,” Mason said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

The lawyer hung up the telephone and returned to the witness room.

There was no sign of Daphne.

Mason left the witness room, went to the outer office of Judge Ballinger’s chambers and said to the judge’s secretary, “Will you ask the judge if I can see him for a few moments on a matter of some importance?”

The secretary picked up the phone, relayed the message, said to Mason, “Judge Ballinger says for you to come on in.”

Mason nodded, walked past the secretarial desk, and into the judge’s private chambers.

“Judge,” he said, “I made a statement in open court which was entirely true at the time I made it, but the situation has changed somewhat.”

Judge Ballinger regarded him with not unfriendly eyes. “You understand, of course, Mr. Mason, that this is a bitterly contested matter and that I don’t want you to say anything which would embarrass you or which might tend to disqualify me from hearing the case.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “This was in connection with a statement I made in open court, that I had no ideas as to the whereabouts of Horace Shelby.”

Judge Ballinger’s eyes grew hard. “That statement was not correct?” he asked.

“That statement was entirely correct,” Mason said.

“But since you have made it, you do know where Horace Shelby is?”

“No,” Mason said, “but I think it is only fair to tell you that I have unearthed a clue which may lead me to Mr. Shelby before the hearing in this matter is resumed.”

Judge Ballinger thought that over, then said, “I think it will be all right for you to tell me what the clue is because the Court is most anxious to have Dr. Alma get in touch with Shelby at the earliest possible moment. In fact, without committing myself in any way, I think I may say that it is quite important that the contact be made as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “I can, if you wish, tell you the clue.”

“I think it will be all right for you to tell me that much,” Judge Ballinger said.

Mason said, “There is a possibility that Daphne Shelby knows where her uncle is.”

Judge Ballinger raised his eyebrows. Human curiosity struggled with judicial prudence, and human nature won out.

“What makes you think so?” Judge Ballinger asked.

“There is evidence,” Mason said, “that Daphne Shelby purchased a car and took immediate delivery, that she may very well have gone to the Goodwill Sanitarium at El Mirar where she was not known and secured a position as a night nurse.”

“That was last night?” Judge Ballinger asked.

“That was last night.”

“Have you asked Daphne Shelby about this?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity. I only learned it myself just a minute or two ago.”

Abruptly Judge Ballinger threw his head back and laughed.

Mason stood silently waiting.

Judge Ballinger controlled himself, said, “Mason, I can’t say anything without putting myself in a compromising position. However, if it’s any satisfaction to you, the Court wasn’t born yesterday.

“I’m glad you told me what you did because it puts my mind at ease about a matter which was causing me considerable concern. I think this conversation, however, has gone quite far enough and it is, of course, just between the two of us. I think it was your duty to tell me. I will also say this, that in the event you do have any personal contact with Horace Shelby, I want Dr. Alma to examine him at once. For reasons which I am not going to mention and which I don’t think I need to go into at this time, I think it is highly important that the examination take place at the earliest possible moment.”

Mason nodded. “I think I understand you.”

“I’m quite certain you do,” Judge Ballinger said, and then added, “and you yourself weren’t born yesterday.”

Paul Drake was waiting in Mason’s office when the lawyer fitted his latchkey to the door of the private office and entered.

Mason glanced at Della Street. “Any calls, Della?”

She shook her head.

Mason turned to Drake. “What happened, Paul?”

“I can’t tell you for sure,” Drake said, “because I have been afraid to tip my hand by asking too many direct questions, but here’s the story in a nutshell.

“Yesterday afternoon, a girl who answers the description of Daphne Shelby stopped a brand new looking car in front of the sanitarium and said she had noticed the sign that they wanted domestic help.

“It seems the sanitarium is pretty well filled and they were badly in need of help. They wanted someone to go to work making beds, sweeping, cleaning, and doing a general job of practical nursing.

“The girl who had been on the shift from ten o’clock at night until seven o’clock in the morning had quit, and our friend Dr. Baxter was desperate. This girl — I’m going to call her Daphne because I’m satisfied that’s who she was — said she’d be back at ten o’clock to start work.

“No one got the license number on her car. She gave the name of Eva Jones, and said she’d had some nursing experience caring for aged people.

“Dr. Baxter didn’t waste any time examining her credentials. He just needed someone in the worst way and he took her on.

“She worked during the entire night, was alert, intelligent, and on the job. Dr. Baxter got up and checked her a couple of times and everything seemed to be running fine.

“They had a cook and two more so called nurses who came on duty at six o’clock in the morning to prepare breakfast and then, after breakfast, to make beds.

“Those were experienced people who had been with the institution for some time and knew the ropes. The big trouble they had was keeping someone on night duty — the so called ‘grave-yard shift’ from ten until seven o’clock in the morning.

“This new girl was last seen about five forty five in the morning. When the cook came to the sanitarium, the new girl was there. She was supposed to stay until seven and help get the breakfast ready, but no one saw her after the cook greeted her.

“For a while, everyone was busy with breakfast and getting things started, and then they went into Unit 17 to make up the bed and see what could be done for the occupant who had been giving them a lot of trouble. They’d had to forcibly restrain him.

“They found the bed empty. Horace Shelby had vanished and the new girl had vanished.

“They didn’t think too much about the significance of the girl not being on duty. Everyone thought she had misunderstood the hours she was to work, and they still feel that she’ll be on duty tonight at ten.

“I followed up your lead about the ‘Help Wanted’ signs, found out Eva Jones had been employed, and pretended that I was a credit man trying to get a credit rating on Eva Jones, asked about what they knew about her background, got her residence address, and — most important of all — the physical description.

“I went to the residence address. It was phony — a rooming house. They’d never heard of Eva Jones. What’s more, they didn’t have anyone who answered the physical description of Eva Jones living there.

“Now then, Perry, you can put two and two together. She bought a car she went out and parked it at the sanitarium she didn’t duck out during the night because that would have been too much of a coincidence she waited until the cook came on duty in the morning and then slipped in, cut the straps that were holding Horace Shelby to the bed, using a sharp butcher knife she had picked up from the kitchen. She got Shelby’s clothes on him, got him across the yard, through the gate and into the automobile.”