The Case of the Daring Divorcee (3 page)

"She's established a residence in Las Vegas. She's filing for divorce the first of next week. Now of course, Mason, you and I both realize that we can't have any collusion or that would destroy the validity of the divorce, but within reasonable limits we want to co-operate in every way we can so as to expedite matters.

"For instance, you can have a summons issued and arrange for service but I'll appear on behalf of Garvin Hastings and file an answer, a sort of general denial. Then the case will be set down for trial and I won't show up-provided, of course, we've reached a property settlement in the meantime.

"That will enable you to short-cut all the delay incident to publication of summons and it will give a valid action because the court will have jurisdiction over both parties and we can have jurisdiction of personam as well as an action in rem."

"Why this desire to expedite things?" Mason asked. "Has Hastings some other woman in mind?"

Banner smiled and shook his head. "I can state now without fear of contradiction that Hastings has been cured. I think that's the reason the marriage fell apart. Hastings is just a rugged individual who likes to live his own life in his own way. He's completely absorbed in his business and I don't think the guy really cares about a home life except on occasion when he gets a little lonely living in a big house all by himself.

"And you can tell your client this, Mason, that any time she wants to go back to work for the Hastings Enterprises as a secretary she can do it. Hastings is very fond of her-as a secretary. There isn't going to be any mud-slinging, any name-calling or any friction. This whole matter is going to be handled amicably and on a friendly basis. Hastings is really going all out to see that his wife gets a decent settlement."

"Thanks a lot," Mason said, shaking hands. "I'll doubtless be seeing you."

As Mason left the office Elvina Mitchell flashed him a warm smile. "Good-by, Mr. Mason," she said.

"Bye now," Mason said. "I'll be seeing you."

Mason returned to his office, grinned at Della Street and said, "Guess I'm getting to be a little jumpy. It's all right, Della. Just a divorce property settlement with some interesting background."

"What about the gun and the two shells that have been fired?" Della asked.

"That," Mason said, "is something else. But there's certainly no reason for her to fire the two bullets into her husband and apparently she doesn't have any rival, so we'll assume she took a couple of pot shots at a jack rabbit on the way in from Las Vegas.

"Let's get at that pile of mail and see how much of it we can get done before Adelle Hastings comes in."

Mason started dictating but after a while his attention began to wander. He glanced from time to time at his wrist watch and there were long periods of silence.

At four o'clock Della Street said, "If you're going to worry about it, why don't we try telephoning?"

"Do that," Mason said. "Telephone Las Vegas. See if there's a telephone in the name of Adelle Hastings at the address given on that driving license."

Della Street put through the call, then after a few moments said, "There's a phone listed. They're ringing and get no answer."

Mason said, "Ring the residence of Garvin Hastings. Don't give any name. Just ask if you can talk to Mrs. Hastings. It may be she went out there to negotiate a settlement on her own. In fact the more I think of it the more I feel that's the explanation. She came in here to see me, then decided to call her husband to tell him what she was doing, and he suggested she come out and talk with him." Mason snapped his fingers. "Why didn't I think of that before? That's the only really logical explanation."

Della Street nodded, looked up the number of the Garyin Hastings residence, put through the call, listened a moment, then gently hung up the telephone.

"What?" Mason asked.

"A tape-recording answering service," she said. "A well-modulated voice on a tape says that Mr. Hastings is not available at the moment, that following the notice on the tape there will be a period of thirty seconds during which the person calling can leave any message. This message will be recorded on tape and brought to the attention of Mr. Hastings on his return."

"Okay," Mason said, "forget it. It's probably all right."

"And what do we do with the purse, the money and the gun?" Della Street asked. "Do we hold them here in the office?"

Mason said, "Between now and five o'clock we'll have a call from Adelle Hastings. She'll suddenly realize where it was she left her bag."

"Want to bet?" Della Street asked.

Mason grinned. "No," he said.

Chapter Two

At five-fifteen Della Street said, "How about it, Chief, do we close up the office? It's five-fifteen."

Mason nodded, said, "I guess there's nothing else to do, Della."

"Are you going to worry about this all night?" she asked.

"I don't know," Mason admitted. "I can't get it out of my mind. I have a hunch we should charter a plane and fly to Las Vegas."

"But she isn't there," Della Street said.

"Her apartment's there," Mason pointed out, "and we probably have a key to it."

"What would be in her apartment?"

"Possibly a clue," Mason said. "Possibly nothing."

"Would you go into her apartment?"

"I don't know," Mason said. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, and I would like to know what time she gets home."

"You think she's headed back to Las Vegas?"

Mason said, "If she isn't, she's in bad trouble. She left my office. She probably had her car parked. She may have gone to get something out of the car and-"

"How do you deduce all that?" Della Street asked.

"From her purse."

"You mean the things in her purse?"

"The things that are not in her purse," Mason said.

Della Street raised inquiring eyebrows.

Mason said, "She was in Las Vegas. She has a Nevada driving license. She drives an automobile. She probably drove in from Las Vegas. That would mean she drove to my office building. She had to do something with her automobile. There's a parking lot next door. She probably put the car in that parking lot. She was given a parking receipt. She put that in her purse. She came up to my office. She was terribly excited. Regardless of what had caused her excitement, we know that she had probably fired a thirty-eight-caliber revolver at something, firing two shots.

"Then she remembered that there was something in the car that she wanted. She must have taken the receipt out of her purse and gone down to the parking lot.

"When she arrived there something happened to keep her from returning to the office.

"Now then, the question is: Did she leave her purse purposely or accidentally?"

"Why would she leave it purposely?"

"Because," Mason said, "it had that gun in it. She didn't want to be carrying that purse around with her any more than necessary. She intended to come right back. She told Gertie she'd be back within a matter of five minutes.

"If she wanted to get something out of her car, she probably wanted to tip the attendant. She took along probably a fifty-cent piece and the parking receipt, intending to tip the attendant. Then something happened that caused her to change her plans."

Mason was thoughtfully silent, then said, "Della, give Paul Drake a ring. See if he's left his office. If he hasn't, ask him to come down here right away. I've got a job for him."

"How about all this?" Della Street asked, indicating the contents of the purse which had been arranged on Mason's desk.

Mason opened a drawer of his desk. Picking the gun up with his handkerchief, he dropped it into the drawer. The other articles he returned to the purse.

Della rang Paul Drake at the Drake Detective Agency, talked briefly, then hung up and said to Perry Mason, "He was just leaving the office. I caught him at the door. He said he'd be right down."

A moment later Drake's code knock sounded on the exit door of Mason's private office and Della Street opened it.

"That's the worst of having a detective agency on the same floor as your clients," Drake said. "You never get away… Now look, Perry, I hope this isn't a big job. I've got something I want to do tonight."

Drake moved over to the client's big overstuffed chair, draped himself over the rounded leather arm and grinned at the lawyer.

Mason said, "This is a detective job that I want done fast. I should have had it done two or three hours earlier. I hope I'm not too late."

Paul Drake, tall, loose-jointed, shock-proofed against any surprise, slid back into the chair, his long legs off the rounded arm, He reached for a cigarette. His manner was completely relaxed.

"Shoot," he said.

Mason said, "You're pretty well known down at the parking lot next door, Paul?"

"I should be," Drake said, grinning. "I've kept my car there for seven years."Mason said, "So have I. That's the reason I can't do this myself. As a detective you have the right to probe around without people asking too many questions. I'd attract too much attention."

"What do you want me to do?" Drake asked.

Mason said, "Go down to that parking lot, Paul. Cover every automobile that's left in it. Look for Nevada license plates. Whenever you find a car with Nevada license plates write down the license number and look to see if there is a registration certificate on the steering post of the car. If there is, get the owner's name but get the license numbers of every Nevada automobile that's in that parking lot."

"Right now?" Drake asked.

"Right now!" Mason said. "I should have been smart and had it done three hours ago."

Drake gave him a quizzical look, then slid his tall frame to an upright position and without a word walked out of the door.

"Charter service?" Della Street asked.

"We'll wait on Paul Drake," Mason said. "If her car's down there, we'll start looking at this end."

"And if it isn't?"

"We fly to Las Vegas."

"Do we eat first?"

"We eat afterwards," Mason said, "unless you want a hamburger or a hot dog to tide you over."

Della Street moved over to the telephone, called the restaurant and lunch counter which occupied one corner of the parking lot.

"Can you," she asked, "prepare two hamburger sandwiches which we can pick up in about twenty minutes? This is Della Street, Perry Mason's secretary… That's right. Mr. Mason wants his with lots of onion and relish. I like mine with lots of relish and not quite so much onion. Start on them right away, please."

Della Street hung up the phone.

Mason looked at his watch, grinned, said, "What about Paul, Della?"

"Paul," Della said, "has something on for tonight. He'll probably dine on filet mignon, baked potato, Frenchfried onions and a nice salad, all washed down with a bottle of vintage wine.

"And," she continued, "if you give him an opportunity, he'll charge the whole business on the expense account and hand you the bill."

Within fifteen minutes Drake's code knock sounded on the door. Della Street opened it, and Drake, coming in, said, "Only two Nevada licenses in the parking lot, Perry."

"Find out who owns the cars?"

"There are no registration certificates. One of the licenses is ATK 205. I asked a few questions and got the parking lot attendant to tell me how long the car had been there. The car's been parked there six hours.

"The other car has license number SFU 804. It's been there for eight hours."

Mason nodded to Della Street. "All right, Paul, get in touch with the Nevada police. I want a run-down on those license numbers. Then get in touch with your correspondents in the proper cities in Nevada and get a line on the people who own the cars. I want just the general back ground, nothing too detailed at present. So far I'm doing this on my own, so keep the expenses somewhere within reason."

"What do you mean, within reason?"

"Well," Mason said, "Della was pointing out that you probably were on your way to keep date, that you'd dine on filet mignon with all the fixings, washed down with a bottle of vintage wine, and the whole thing would be on the expense account."