“If they’re releasing the body this afternoon,” Mason said, “it’s certain that they’ve completed their tests.”
“Yes. I surmised as much, but I don’t know what they’ve found.”
“They haven’t told you?”
“Not a word.
“Of course,” Mrs. Tidings repeated, “I’m upset. We’d separated, but it was a shock to me… I hated him.”
Mason said, “I appreciate your position, Mrs. Tidings. By the way, I came to get the other half of that ten-thousand-dollar bill.”
“Why, Mr. Mason, what do you mean?”
Mason looked at his wrist watch. “Minutes may mean the difference between a good defense and a verdict of first-degree murder. If you want to waste time arguing about it, go ahead. It’s your funeral… And I don’t mean the remark figuratively.”
“You seem rather certain of your ground, Mr. Mason.”
“I am. When you and Peltham came to my office, I noticed two things. The first was that Peltham had laid careful plans to get in touch with me at any hour of the day or night, just in case he ever wanted a lawyer. The second was that a lot of things in connection with your visit showed extreme haste and lack of preparation: the fact, for instance, that Peltham gave me a fictitious name which wasn’t listed in the telephone directory. Also there was your mask.”
She kept her eyes veiled. “What about the mask?”
“It was a black mask with a silver tinsel trimming,” Mason said. “It had been part of a masquerade costume, something which had been stored away as a souvenir.”
“I don’t see what that proves,” she said.
“Simply this,” Mason said. “Peltham had made careful preparations to see me in case something happened. When that something did happen, he had to act fast. He decided to protect you by keeping your identity a secret even from me. That meant a mask. Now people don’t just carry masks around with them, and you don’t find them hanging on lamp posts late at night. But you had one, probably tucked away in some bureau drawer, at home. That means that whatever happened that made it imperative for the woman Peltham was protecting to see me, happened right in her home or reasonably close. I should have known the answer the minute I discovered Tidings’ body here.”
She looked at him for a moment in silence, studying the granite-hard lines of his face. Then, without a word, she opened her purse, took out a small envelope, tore it open, and from that envelope extracted the other portion of the ten-thousand-dollar bill which she handed to Mr. Mason.
There was some surprise on Della Street’s face, but Mason didn’t so much as flicker an eyelash.
“When did you know he was dead?”
“Why, when I returned from Reno of course.”
Mason said nothing, but once more looked at his wrist watch, an eloquent reminder of the passing of time.
She said, “Honestly, Mr. Mason, I’m telling the truth.”
Mason said, “You were in love with Peltham. He wanted to protect you. You came to my office shortly after midnight. You did everything possible to keep me from learning your real identity as well as the nature of the case on which I was to be employed. You subsequently claimed that you had left for Reno late Monday afternoon. Apparently, you were actually in Reno Tuesday morning.
“Considering all of those various circumstances in their proper light, it means that the body of Albert Tidings was lying right here, in that bedroom, at the very moment you were calling on me at my office… Now then, did you kill him or did Peltham?”
“Neither.”
“But you knew he was dead?”
She hesitated for several seconds, then said, almost inaudibly, “Yes.”
“And you were the ones who put him into that room and on that bed?”
“Yes.”
“Who killed him?”
“Honestly, Mr. Mason, I don’t know.”
“Better tell me what you do know,” Mason said.
She said, “I’m going to be frank with you, Mr. Mason.”
“Do,” Mason said, and then added significantly, “for a change.”
She said, “I wanted a divorce. I am very much in love with Bob. Bob had reason to believe that Albert was dipping into the Hastings Memorial Trust Fund. He was working with Adelle Hastings, trying to straighten things out. He wanted her to demand an audit of the books. Under the circumstances, if my attachment for Robert had been discovered, it would have made very serious complications all around. You can understand that, Mr. Mason.”
Mason said tonelessly, “I can understand that.”
Della Street slipped a shorthand notebook from her purse. Mason said, “Don’t do it, Della. I don’t want any of this recorded anywhere… Go ahead, Mrs. Tidings.”
She said, “Albert had been trying to effect a reconciliation. I told him that it was impossible. Bob and I had been to a show. We were driving home. We found Albert’s car parked down near the circle at the end of the road. It was raining hard. Albert was in the car, slumped down in the seat to one side of the steering wheel. He had been shot and was unconscious. We stopped our car. Bob and I got out in the rain and tried to see how seriously Albert was injured. There was still a faint pulse. He had been shot in the chest. We realized that we couldn’t do anything in the space there was inside the car. I told Bob he’d have to help me get Albert into the house, and then I’d telephone for a doctor and the police.
“Together, we got him out of the car and half carried, half dragged him into the house. We put him on the bed. I ran to the telephone, and was just on the point of putting through the call when Bob called to me. He said, ‘It’s too late now, Nadine. He’s dead.’
“I ran back to the bed. There was no question about it. I suppose that in moving him, we’d started the hemorrhage — making it more severe. Anyway, he was dead. There wasn’t the faintest pulse.”
“What did you do?” Mason asked.
“Bob told me that I couldn’t be dragged into it, that he would skip out and keep in hiding, that this would tend to direct suspicion to him, that it would be better for me to put my car in a garage somewhere and take a plane to Reno where I had friends. I could claim that I’d driven up there. By leaving the house door open and unlocked, it would make it appear he’d broken in in my absence.
“We talked things over and decided that here in the house it might be quite a while before the body was discovered, that I might be able to build up an alibi that would hold water. It would help my alibi to have the time of death appear to be as late as possible. There was mud on his shoes, mud stains on the counterpane of the bed. We realized that these might help fix the time of murder. So we took off his shoes and topcoat, pulled the mud-stained counterpane out from under him, and wrapped them up in a bundle.”
“What became of them?” Mason asked.
“I don’t know. Bob took them. He said he’d take care of them.”
“Then what did you do?”
“Then I drove Bob’s car, and Bob drove Albert’s car. He wanted the car discovered as far away from the house as possible. We parked the car and then telephoned you. Bob said you could protect me if anyone could, but he pointed out that if my alibi in Reno held up, I wouldn’t have any need for an attorney, that if they didn’t discover Albert’s body for four or five days, no one could tell exactly when he’d died, and that if I could get a lucky break, I might be able to keep absolutely out of it.
“We’d managed things very circumspectly. No one in the world had any idea that Bob and I were… were… that we cared for each other.”