“Nevertheless,” Berger said, “I want you to repeat it.”
Mattern raised his eyes to stare steadily at Mason, a stare of cold accusation. He said, in a strong, well-modulated voice, “I was Mr. Tidings’ secretary. Last Tuesday morning Mr. Mason called at my office.”
“What time?” Mason asked.
“Shortly before nine o’clock,” Mattern said.
Hamilton Berger said, “Kindly don’t interrupt the statement of the witness, Mr. Mason. Your opportunity for a defense will come later. I simply want you to be advised of the information which has been placed in my hands. This is not the time to cross-examine witnesses.”
“If you want to accuse me of anything,” Mason said, “and expect me to answer that accusation, I’m going to know the details. Go ahead, Mattern.”
Berger frowned with annoyance.
Mattern, still with his eyes fixed steadily on Mason, said in the same level voice, “Mr. Mason told me that Mr. Tidings had met with an accident. He didn’t say what sort of an accident. He said that Mr. Tidings, according to his information, was dead, that he was representing Byrl Gailord, that Byrl Gailord was the beneficiary under a trust which Mr. Tidings was administering, that he understood Tidings had intended to make a purchase of a large block of stock in the Western Prospecting Company, that it was very much to the advantage of his client to have the deal go through, that he thought the stock was a good investment for her, and that he was interested in having the amount involved — fifty thousand dollars — earmarked by having it appear that at least that much of Tidings’ funds were held in the Gailord trust.”
“Did he say anything about it being to the interests of other clients to have it appear that Tidings’ death should be assumed by the police to have occurred at a time subsequent to that at which the death had actually occurred?” Hamilton Berger asked.
“Not in so many words,” Mattern said, frowning as though searching his recollection. “I think I’ve already told you exactly what he said, as nearly as I can remember, Mr. Berger.”
“Well, tell it to me again,” Berger said.
“He said that there were reasons which he wouldn’t go into which would make it very much to the advantage of his clients to have it appear that the time of death did not occur until after noon on Tuesday.”
“Did he say client or clients?” Berger asked.
“Clients. I remember that very distinctly,” Mattern said.
“But he didn’t say specifically whether by clients he referred to Miss Gailord and some other client?”
“No, he didn’t. But I do remember that he used the word clients — in the plural.”
“Very well,” Berger said. “Go ahead.”
Mason faced the hostility of Mrs. Tump’s eyes, the silent accusation of Byrl Gailord, and casually took a cigarette case from his pocket. He selected a cigarette and made a search of his pockets for matches. In the course of the search, he managed to extract from his right-hand trousers pocket the folded note which Drake had given him. He snapped a match into flame, and lit the cigarette. As Mattern resumed his statement, Mason made a surreptitious study of the message Drake had slipped him. It had been printed in ink upon a narrow strip of paper. The words were simple and to the point: “Freel is registered in St. Germaine Hotel under name Herkimer Smith, Shreveport, Louisiana.”
Mason shifted the match to his left hand, dropped it into an ash tray; his right hand casually dropped into the side pocket of his coat and deposited Drake’s printed message.
Mattern went on steadily. “Mr. Mason told me that under the law of agency I would have no authority to conclude the deal if Tidings were dead, that his clients wanted the purchase consummated, that it would be better for all concerned to have it appear that the transaction had been completed before Tidings died. He said that if I’d co-operate with him, he’d give me ten thousand dollars when the purchase had been completed.”
“Did you agree to co-operate with him?” Berger asked.
“I objected at first,” Mattern said. “Naturally the information came as a shock to me, and I was astonished to think that a man in Mr. Mason’s position would make such a proposition to me.”
“And did you communicate your reluctance to Mr. Mason?”
“I did. I told him that I couldn’t do it.”
“And what did Mason say?”
“Mason pointed out to me that Tidings was dead, and there was nothing I could do that would restore him to life, that it would be much better for all concerned, particularly his clients…”
“And he used the word in that connection and in the plural?” Berger asked.
“That’s right, he did. Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead.”
“… that it would be much better for his clients if it was made to appear that Mr. Tidings had met his death after noon of that day. He asked me if it wasn’t true that Mr. Tidings had secured a cashier’s check in an amount of fifty thousand dollars which was to be delivered for the purchase price of the stock. I told him that this was true. So then Mr. Mason suggested that he would call me later on, on the telephone, that I was to tell his secretary that Mr. Tidings was available and would talk with Mr. Mason. Mason said that he’d come on the line, and I could carry on a conversation, and he would pretend that it was Tidings on the other end of the line, that I was also to advise any other person who called that Mr. Tidings was in his office but was engaged in a conference and couldn’t be disturbed, that I was to go ahead with the stock purchase just as though Tidings were there, and that I was to swear that Tidings had accompanied me down in the elevator; and then, to clinch matters after the purchase had been completed, I was to swear that Tidings had called up and asked me if everything had gone through according to schedule.”
“And he promised you ten thousand dollars for this?” Berger asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Was that ten thousand dollars paid?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How?”
“In fifty- and hundred-dollar bills.”
“What did you do with that money?”
“I deposited it in a bank.”
“The bank where you carry your regular account?”
“No, sir. It was another bank. I went to a bank where I wasn’t known. I told them that I wished to open an account and made the deposit under a fictitious name.”
“What name?”
“Anthony Blake.”
“Did you tell anyone about this?”
“No, sir… Not until I told you early this morning.” Berger glanced at Mason. “All right, Mason,” he said, “what have you to say to this?”
“I want to ask him a couple of questions,” Mason said.
“I don’t think this is the time or the place,” Berger said. “This isn’t a trial. I’m merely putting my cards on the table showing you the information which I have at hand.”
Mason ignored the comment and said to Mattern, “I suppose, Mattern, the district attorney found out about that fictitious account and asked you to explain it.”
“He did nothing of the sort,” Mattern said indignantly. “No one knew anything about that account. My conscience started bothering me, and I finally came to the district attorney and explained all the circumstances to him.”
Mason turned to Hamilton Berger. “You can see what happened,” he said. “Mattern knew that Tidings was dead. He confessed to me that he’d discovered that fact early Tuesday morning. Bolus, who’s president of the Western Prospecting Company, was planning on unloading his stock. He’d offered Mattern a ten-thousand-dollar bonus when the deal went through. I pointed out to Mattern that with the facilities at your command, you’d be able to trace that payment through the bank. He knew he was trapped, so he concocted this story.”
“That’s a lie,” Mattern said.