The Case of the Dangerous Dowager (13 page)

ATTORNEY AT LAW

Entrance

She looked up as the latch clicked into place when the door closed. Her eyes, swollen with sleep, blinked in the bright light. "'Lo, Chief," she said sleepily. She lowered her feet from the desk, rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, grinned and said, "I fell asleep after the midnight news broadcast. That's the last one."

She indicated the portable radio which she had placed on the corner of Mason's desk, stretched her arms, yawned, made a little grimace, stamped her feet, and said, "Gosh, my legs have gone to sleep. What time is it?"

"Half past two," he told her. She tried to walk, but swayed on her numb feet. The lawyer caught her in his arms as she staggered. "Steady," he told her, holding her close to him.

She smiled sleepily and said, "I'm all pins and needles from my knees down. Gosh, I've been asleep a long time. That's one of the best sleeping chairs I ever sat in."

He slid an arm around her shoulders while she pillowed her cheek against his coat and closed her eyes.

"Why did you come up here?" he asked.

"There was a news flash on the ten o'clock broadcast that Sam Grieb had been murdered on his gambling ship and that everyone aboard was being held pending a complete investigation, so I thought you might want something, or try to get some message to me, and I figured I could work things better from here than from the apartment house where I hang out."

"Did anything else come in?" Mason asked.

She puckered her forehead into a frown and said, "Gee, Chief, those legs are driving me nuts. Let me walk around."

He circled her waist with his arm. Together, they started walking around the office, Della Street stamping her feet, making little grimaces of pain. "Let me see," she said… "There was some hot stuff in the midnight broadcast. It seems that Perry Mason, the noted attorney, was aboard the ship at the time of the murder, and was detained by authorities for questioning. The police are looking for a mysterious white-haired woman somewhere around fifty or fifty-five years of age, who wore a silver gown, silver slippers, a string of pearls about her neck and had snow-white hair cut in a boyish bob. Everyone described her appearance as striking… Tell me, Chief, why did Mrs. Benson go aboard? Were you to meet her out there?"

"No," he said, "she claims she went out to back me up in case I got into any trouble."

"Then she must have been carrying a gun," Della said.

"How are your legs?" the lawyer inquired.

"Better. I can feel the floor now, but we were talking about a gun. Look here, Chief, are you keeping something from me?"

"Lots of things," he told her.

She looked down at her legs and said, "Regretfully, Chief, I must inform you that my circulation is now restored."

He released her. She danced a swift jig step, perched herself on the corner of the office desk, and said, "Let's get this straight while we have a chance. The landlady out at my apartment house is absolutely okay. She's a friend of mine and perfectly swell. I told her I had some friends coming to see me and I didn't have room to put them up in my apartment, so I wanted to rent the adjoining apartment for a few days. You see, my apartment was once part of a double, but they made it into two singles, and the other single is vacant. I paid her a week's rent and then went out to your place and picked up a suitcase. Gee, Chief, I hope I got everything you need. I didn't have room to put in an extra suit of clothes, but I got socks, shirts, underwear, ties, shaving things, toothbrushes and pajamas. I also put in the pair of bedroom slippers that were under the edge of your bed… I thought you might want to hide out."

"What did you do with the suitcase?" he asked.

"Planted it in this apartment I was telling you about. I figured that after they let you go they'd be watching you, and if they saw you leave your apartment with a suitcase they might…"

"Good girl," he interrupted. "Switch out those lights. We're on our way."

"You see," she said, turning out the lights, "in this way you can keep in touch with me and no one will be the wiser. There's a connecting door between the apartments, and I could have you in for meals and…"

He slipped an arm around her waist and said, "Della, you're a life saver. As a matter of fact, I have an idea they'll be trying to serve a subpoena on me within the next two hours."

"And you don't want to be subpoenaed?" she asked.

"Absolutely not. Where's your car, Della?"

"In the parking lot."

"Okay," he told her, "I'll get in my car and drive around the block. In case I'm shadowed, I'll ditch the shadows before I come out. If I'm not, I'll follow you out. After you get out to your apartment, put in a call for Paul Drake. Get him out of bed. Now, they may have tapped your line. So just ask him if he's seen me or heard anything from me. He'll tell you that he hasn't. Then you tell him it's important as the devil that you see him right away, and ask him if he can come out to your apartment. Tell him you're worried about me. Don't let him stall you along, but make him get in his car and come out at once. Do you follow me?"

"I," she proclaimed, "am two paragraphs ahead of you."

He regarded her with a droll smile and said, "You're as bad as your boss. I was hoping I might get a couple of hours of sleep."

"I'm worried about Perry," Della said, "awfully worried about him. The news flash came through that he was out on that gambling ship when…"

Drake interrupted her to say, "He was out there, Sylvia Oxman was out there, Frank Oxman was out there, and some woman in a silver evening gown who tossed a gun overboard after the murder, was out there. Perry had lots of company. They can't pin anything on him just because he was there – but they're sure going to try!"

"Well," she said, "I don't know too much about it, but the chief's gone into hiding."

"Gone into hiding," Drake echoed. "Well, that's food for thought. Where did he go? Where is he?"

"I don't know. He telephoned in some instructions from a pay station. He says he may be classed as a fugitive from justice, and he doesn't want to get me implicated. He's worked out a method of communicating with me though."

Della Street picked up a shorthand notebook and said, "Here are his instructions: You're to find out everything you can about the murder, and particularly, he wants you to get a photograph from the newspaper men of the fingerprints that were developed on the glass top of Grieb's desk. It seems the fingerprint men got a lot of latent prints from it. There was one print of a hand, and the chief thinks it's a woman's hand. He couldn't see it clearly. He wants to get a copy of that latent print, if he can."

"Okay, what else?"

"The chief wants to find out exactly what Duncan's doing. Now there's a man on the ship by the name of Arthur Manning, who works as guard and bouncer. He figures he's due to lose his job as soon as Duncan takes over, because he'd sided with Grieb. The chief made a play to get Manning lined up with us, and thinks it's going to work. Manning's coming in to see me sometime after nine this morning. I'll get in touch with you when he comes in.

"Now, the chief figures that by sticking up for his rights, Manning can demand two weeks' notice and perhaps make it stick. Duncan will probably fire him, and the chief wants you to promise him a two months' job at a fair salary, with a chance to stay on regularly if he makes good. He's not to let anyone know that he's working for you, and he's to keep on out at the gambling ship just as long as he can. He'll make secret reports to you. The chief figures he can find out things.

"As soon as you've hired him, so the man's sympathies will be with you, the chief wants you to turn him inside out about just what he saw, and particularly just what Duncan was doing when Manning came into the office in response to the buzzer signal. Duncan may have been trying to plant some evidence in the chair where the chief had been sitting. Perry figures Manning might not have told all he knows about that – you know, figuring on trying to hold his job."

Drake nodded and said, "Okay, I'll put Manning to work. What else?"

"You're to report to me from time to time everything you've found out about the case, but you're to come into the office and do it personally. You're not to use the telephone. The chief thinks they may be looking for him and may try tapping telephone lines and…"

"For God's sake, is he going to stay hidden if they put out a dragnet for him?" Drake asked.

"That's what he said."

"He can't do it," Drake said positively. "They'll find him. He's mixed in this thing the way it is. He was waiting in the outer office when Duncan came in and discovered the murder. You can't let him…"

"Paul," Della Street interrupted in a tone of finality, "when the chief tells me to do something, I do it. I've learned by experience that it doesn't do any good to argue with him."

"Well, I want to talk with him," Drake said. "He's going to be in bad on this thing. He may even be accused of murder."

Della Street nodded lugubriously. "I'll tell him you want to talk with him the next time he gets in touch with me. And, in the meantime, he wanted you to give me a detailed report about what you know."

Drake said, "There isn't much to report. Sylvia Oxman went out aboard the ship about half or three-quarters of an hour before Mason went out, and Frank Oxman went out a short time later. Now, that's where the breaks went against my man. He tailed Oxman right down to the wharf and up to the point where Oxman bought a ticket for the speed boat. Then he ran into some tough luck. Oxman was the last passenger aboard the boat, which was loaded to capacity. As soon as he got aboard, the speed boat shoved off, and my man couldn't possibly get aboard. He had to wait quite a while before another launch was ready to shove off. Then, when he did get out to the gambling ship, he couldn't find a trace of Oxman anywhere. He searched all over the place for fifteen or twenty minutes. Finally he spotted Oxman just boarding one of the shore launches. So he got aboard that launch and tailed Oxman to the Breeden Hotel, where he's staying. I'd already stationed a plant – an operative staked out in the lobby – so if Oxman spotted his shadow, the operative in the lobby could carry on. Oxman was suspicious, and waited around in the lobby for a little while to make certain he wasn't being followed. So the tail turned him over to the plant. After a while Oxman went up to the desk and said he had some money he wanted to deposit in the hotel safe. He said it was money that belonged to someone else and he was particularly anxious to be relieved of the responsibility, so he made the clerk count it with him and check the amount, put it in an envelope, and deposit it in the safe.

"The money amounted to nine thousand five hundred bucks. You tell Perry about that and see if that means anything to him. I think it will. I've put a shadow on Oxman and we'll follow every move he makes.

"My men couldn't pick up Sylvia Oxman right away. She'd been out all day, but along late in the afternoon her maid came out carrying a fur coat, so one of the boys followed her and picked up Sylvia. Perry knows all about that. The shadow's name was Belgrade and I sent a relief for him down to the pier, but Sylvia had got aboard the ship before the relief arrived. Tell Perry that Belgrade shadowed her aboard and his report shows that she parked her coat with the hat check girl, stuck around for a while, and finally went into Sam Grieb's office. Now she'd been in there for maybe two or three minutes when a man who answered the description of Frank Oxman went down the corridor and was gone just a minute or two. Then he came out. Then, later on. Perry went in. Then Sylvia went out. Belgrade's instructions were to tag Sylvia, but Belgrade knew Perry was in there, and figured Perry might be having some trouble, so he stuck around, trying to keep Sylvia lined up and also watch the office entrance. Sylvia was nervous, did a little gambling and kept looking back at the offices.

"Then Duncan and a tall chap in a tweed suit went in, and a few minutes later the tall chap brought Mason out, and Mason's wrists were handcuffed. Sylvia went white as a sheet when she saw that, and dropped into a chair as though her legs had gone weak. She stayed there for three or four minutes. Then Duncan came out of the office, and Sylvia got up and started for the deck. Belgrade followed her up to the deck, then down to one of the speed launches.

"Now, there were a couple of neckers out on deck who saw some woman toss a gun overboard. Apparently Perry got to talk with them, and by the time he got through, about all they dare swear to is that they saw a gun somewhere in the air, just before it struck the water.

"Well, Sylvia went ashore, and when she landed Staples relieved Belgrade. Belgrade phoned in his report, and I told him to go pound his ear for a while. Staples made a good job of following Sylvia. He says she acted as if she was scared to death over something. She parked her car in the Central Garage at Fifth and Adams, then took a taxicab to the Pacific Greyhound Depot and bought a ticket on a bus that was leaving for San Francisco. Her ticket read as far as Ventura, but when the bus pulled into the depot at Hollywood, she got out and didn't get back aboard. My man followed her and she went to the Christy Hotel and registered under the name of Nell Yardley, and gave her address as 1260 Polk Street, San Francisco. She was given Room 318 and hasn't gone out since."

"You have men watching the place?" Della asked.

"Sewed up tighter than a drum," Drake told her.

"Okay, the chief wants you to keep her and Frank Oxman shadowed and he wants you to locate a Matilda Benson who lives at 1090 Wedgewood Drive, and shadow her. The chief says she's pretty cagey and you'll have some trouble with her. She's the white-haired woman in the silver dress who figures in the case, and the chief wants to find out if the officers have learned who she is. If they have, they'll be watching the house and your men can spot them. Let us know just as soon as any other men get on the job. And locate her if you can. She'll be under cover somewhere."

Drake said, "All right, I've got that. How about Duncan? He worked all day getting papers issued. He's filed a suit alleging the dissolution of the partnership and asking for an accounting in the federal court. Post, Wiker, Jones Grayson are his lawyers and they're a reputable firm. After Duncan got the papers filed and an order issued to show cause why a receiver shouldn't be appointed, he and Dick Perkins, a deputy who specializes in serving papers, started down to the gambling ship.

"Mason only wanted a tail on Duncan long enough to find out when Duncan was starting out to serve the paper, so my man checked out when Duncan and the deputy reached the pier. Belgrade, the operative who was tailing Sylvia, knows Duncan personally. He identifies Duncan as one of the men who went into the offices, and the chap who was with him answers the description of the deputy marshal, Perkins. Perry will know because he was there."

"Then Frank Oxman went down the corridor to those offices while Sylvia was still there?" Della Street asked.

"That's right. The description checks."

"And that was after his wife had gone in, and before Perry arrived?"

"Yes."

"And Frank Oxman came right out?"

"That's right. He was only in there a minute or so."

"Then he went ashore and went to the Breeden Hotel and left nine thousand five hundred dollars with the clerk. Is that right?"

"Check."

"And his wife had been staying there at the same hotel?"

"No, they've separated. The wife has an apartment at the Huxley Arms, but now she's staying at the Christy Hotel as Nell Yardley."

"Anything else?" Della Street asked.

Drake shook his head.

"All right, Paul, keep on the job. I'll let you know as soon as I have any more instructions."

Drake frowned and said, "Now listen, Della, it's up to you to snap Perry out of this. He's going to get himself in an awful mess if he isn't careful. Somebody murdered Sam Grieb at just about the time he was out there. Now, my man, Belgrade, knows that Sylvia Oxman was there when Mason went in. I think I can trust Belgrade to keep his mouth shut, but that information's simply dynamite, and if it should get out to the officers or to the newspapers it would put Perry in an awful spot. Then there's that couple on the ship who saw the gun tossed overboard. That business isn't going to help any. By the time they get on the witness stand they'll have Sylvia taking that gun out of her handbag. That'll pin an accessory-after-the-fact charge right on Mr. Perry Mason. Now, you tell Perry I want to talk with him. He's sitting on a volcano."

"Okay," Della said wearily, "I'll tell him, but it probably won't do any good. He's the champion volcano-sitter."

"Going to buy me a drink?" Drake asked.

"What do you want?"

"Scotch and soda, if you've got it. And, just to show you I'm a good scout, I'll buy a bottle of Scotch and bring it up the next time I come. It'll be on the expense account as entertainment, and neither Perry nor his client will know who got it."

"Swell," she told him, and went to the ice box, brought out ice cubes, Scotch and soda, poured two drinks and clicked glasses with the detective.

"Confusion to our enemies," she toasted.

Drake gulped down three big swallows of the light amber drink. "You don't need to wish any confusion on them. The whole case is worse than a jigsaw puzzle." He slipped his arm around her waist and said, "Gee, Della, you're a good kid! I wish I could get someone who had just one percent as much loyalty for me as you have for Perry. How does he work it?"

Della laughed. "Take your arm away, Paul. Experience has taught me that when a man sticks around my apartment about daylight, drinking Scotch and soda and talking about my wonderful loyalty, he's getting ready to go out of control."

Drake sighed. "I see you're a good judge of character as well as a darned efficient secretary. Going to kiss me good-by when I leave, Della?"

"No. If I did you wouldn't leave."

"Well," Drake said, "there's no harm in asking. I'll drop in at the office later on and give you all the dirt I can dig up. So long, Della, and thanks for the drink."

"Don't forget that bottle of Scotch," she told him as she closed the door behind him.

Perry Mason stepped out from behind the screen where he had been sitting. "The big palooka, trying to kiss my secretary! Where the hell does he get that nerve?"

Della Street laughed at him. "If you're going to spy on my unguarded moments you'll hear a lot worse than that. He was positively platonic."