Erle Gardner - Case of the Beautiful Beggar

Again Mason nodded.

“Why?”

“In the first place,” Mason said, “my client has started taking shortcuts. I don’t like that. In the second place, she isn’t confiding in me and I don’t like that. In the third place, the fact that she’s taking such elaborate precautions to keep Horace Shelby out of circulation either means that he’s pretty far out in left field or that both of them are afraid the Finchley’s are going to put him back in that sanitarium and restrain him by force.”

“Well,” Della said, “after a man has been strapped to a bed after he’s been taken against his will and thrown into what is virtually a mental institution and all of that, he’s going to dread any possibility of returning.”

“That probably accounts for it,” Mason said, “but the situation may be a lot more complicated than appears on the surface... What do you suppose Borden Finchley and his wife are doing? What do you suppose Ralph Exeter is doing?”

“Doesn’t Drake have men on them?”

Mason shook his head. “After his men picked up Daphne Shelby, I concentrated on her. The others are relatively unimportant, and I don’t want Finchley reporting to the court that I had him shadowed.”

“Do you think he’d know that he was being shadowed?” Della Street asked.

“He’s pretty apt to find it out. A skillful shadow can tail a person for a while, but when you have three people to shadow, someone’s going to get wise. And then, of course, if that one communicates his thoughts to the others and they begin to look around, it isn’t too difficult to spot a shadow.

“Of course, it can be handled if you have the money to spend. You can alternate shadows, you can put several shadows on one suspect you can have them behind him, ahead of him, and generally do a pretty good job. But I didn’t want to take chances in this case, and therefore once we’ve found Horace Shelby that’s what we’re playing for. When we get him, we’ve hit the jackpot.”

“And what are you going to do then?”

“It depends on the condition he’s in,” Mason said. “I’m going to play fair. As soon as we’re dead certain we have him located, I’m going to get in touch with Dr. Alma and arrange for an interview. If Shelby is okay, I’m going to see what we can do for Daphne. If he isn’t — if he’s really in need of having someone look after him, then, of course, we’re in a different situation.

“However, I am going to try and get evidence that will make the Court change his order in regard to Borden Finchley. I think we’ll have some other conservator.”

Mason walked around the office aimlessly, working off his restlessness while he was waiting.

Della, knowing that Perry Mason did much of his intensive thinking while pacing the floor, settled herself in the big, overstuffed leather chair, remaining motionless so as not to disturb the lawyer’s thoughts.

The silence of night settled upon the big office building.

The sound of the unlisted telephone ringing shattered the silence.

Only three people had the number of that unlisted telephone — Perry Mason, Della Street and Paul Drake so Mason scooped up the instrument and said sharply, “Yes, Paul.”

Drake said, “My man just telephoned. She’s back at the Serene Slumber Motel. He didn’t have a chance to telephone when she came out of the Northern Lights. She just jumped in her car and started moving and he had to follow. He’s at a phone now, waiting instructions.”

“Tell him to wait until we get there,” Mason said. “Unless, of course, she goes out. If she does, he’s to follow her and report at the earliest opportunity. We can’t afford to lose her now.”

“Your car or mine?” Drake asked.

“Both,” Mason said. “We may want to separate later. You take your car and lead the way. Della will go with me. We’ll pick you up at your office and start out at once.”

Mason hung up the telephone, nodded at Della Street, who already had her hand on the light switch.

They hurried down the corridor, stopped at the illuminated oblong of Paul Drake’s door. Mason was reaching for the doorknob just as the door was opened from the inside and Drake emerged.

“All ready?” Drake asked.

“All ready,” Mason said. “Let’s go.”

They rode down in the elevator, crossed to the parking lot, got in their respective cars, and Drake led the way out to the freeway, then along to the turnoff at El Mirar.

The lawyer knew that Drake had the telephone in his automobile and saw the detective using it once in a while, apparently getting directions as to the best way to get to the Serene Slumber Motel.

Drake drove unerringly, making good time, then blinked his brake lights a couple of times to call Mason’s attention to the illuminated sign ahead which read, “Serene Slumber Motel” and, down near the street, a red illuminated sign reading, Sorry. No Vacancies .

Drake pulled his car into the parking lot and usurped a vacant place. It took Mason a few seconds to find a place where he could leave his car. Since the marked parking stalls were all filled, it was necessary for the lawyer to leave his car down at the curb at the far end of the lot.

Mason and Della walked to join Paul Drake, who, by that time, was standing close to the shadowy figure of a tall, young man,

“I think you know Jim Inskip,” Drake said, by way of introduction and then added, “This is Della Street, Mr. Mason’s secretary.”

Inskip bowed. “I’ve met you before, Mr. Mason, and I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Street. Our party’s in Unit 12.”

“Any sign of leaving or turning in for the night?”

“Neither. Her car’s here. You can see the lights on in the unit — that’s the one with the light right over there.”

The detective pointed.

“What do we do, Perry?” Drake asked.

Mason said, “Inskip stays here and keeps the place covered. He is to stay with Daphne Shelby no matter what happens. If we come out and drive away, Inskip is not to come anywhere near us but is to sit in his car and wait, because Daphne might be smart enough to turn out the light and look out of the back window. We’ll arrange our communication system by phone later on.”

“You want me to come with you?” Drake asked.

“I think I do,” Mason said, “but I may have to ask you to leave. Anything that a client says to a lawyer is a privileged, confidential communication anything that a lawyer says to a client, is a privileged, confidential communication.”

“That privilege also applies to a lawyer’s secretary, but if the lawyer takes along someone else as an audience, that person can be called to the stand to relate any conversation which took place. I may want to have certain parts of the interview confidential. A great deal will depend on just what she’s trying to do and just what she hopes to accomplish.”

The three of them separated from Inskip, moved around to the walk which went around the front of the units, and Mason tapped gently at the door of number 12.

There was no answer from within, although a faint illumination shone through the curtains.

Mason tapped again.

Again, there was no answer.

The third time, the lawyer’s knock was loud and peremptory.

After a moment, the knob turned, the door opened a crack and Daphne Shelby said, “Who... who is it?... What do you want?”

Mason said, “Good evening, Daphne.”

Daphne, light-dazzled eyes failing to penetrate the semi-darkness, flung herself against the door, trying to close it, but Drake and Mason pushed their weight against the door and Daphne slid back along the carpet.

Mason held the door open while Della Street entered.

Daphne, apparently recognizing him for the first time, was wide-eyed with surprise.