"You've told your Aunt Mae about this?" Mason asked.
"I discussed it with her two or three times, and Mae came down with me yesterday to see it for herself."
"Mae doesn't know her?" Mason asked.
Della Street said thoughtfully, "I think she does, Perry. She had a smug smile on her face. She kept her dark glasses on while we were in the booth and sat back under my umbrella. I think she was trying to keep the blonde from seeing and recognizing her."
"But Mae didn't admit anything?"
"Nothing. She's been busy planning the details of the chicken-dumpling feed with all of the fixings."
Mason signed the chit for their meal, said, "There must be a gag tied in with it somewhere, some sort of a publicity stunt."
"I know," Della Street said, "but what in the world could it be?"
"She is always alone?"
"She keeps away from all of the beach wolves. And that," Della Street announced, "is rather difficult."
"I take it," Mason said, "that you haven't been entirely successful."
"Perhaps," she said, "I haven't tried quite so determinedly. However, I let everyone know I was keeping Saturday and Sunday wide open for you."
"Evidently you felt sure you could persuade me to stay over," Mason said.
She smiled. "Let's put it this way, Mr. Perry Mason. I felt certain that if you didn't stay over I wouldn't have a completely disastrous afternoon or a danceless evening."
Mason said musingly, "Apple pie alamode… chocolate malted milk… there simply has to be a catch in it somewhere, Della-and there's an irresistible body meeting an immovable bathing suit. Something is bound to happen."
"We could, of course, open a branch office here at the beach."
"I'm afraid our clients wouldn't come that far, Della."
"Well," Della Street predicted, "a bathing suit can only stretch so far."
CHAPTER TWO
Mae Kirby greeted Perry Mason affectionately. "It seems that I almost never see you," she said, "and you're keeping Della on the go all the time."
Mason said, "I know, Mae. Time passes faster than we realize. I keep going from one case to another."
"At breakneck speed," she said. "You'd better slow down. Flesh and blood can't stand that pace. Come on in. Here's someone who wants to meet you."
Della Street stood in the doorway, smiling at Mason and then giving him a quick wink as Mae led him into the room. She said, "Dianne Alder, this is Perry Mason."
The young woman who was standing by the window was the same blonde whom Mason and Della Street had been watching earlier in the day.
She gave Mason her hand and a dazzling smile. "I'm absolutely thrilled," she said. "This is a wonderful privilege. I've heard about you so much and read about you, and to think of actually meeting you! It was so thoughtful of Mrs. Kirby to invite me over."
Mason glanced swiftly at Della Street, received a slight shake of the head from Della and then said, "You flatter me, Miss Alder. The pleasure is mine."
Dianne Alder said, "I've seen your secretary on the beach several times in the last week but had no idea who she was or I'd have been bold enough to introduce myself. She's beautiful enough to make everyone think she's-"
"Come, come," Della Street interrupted. "You're making us all too vain, Dianne."
Mae Kirby said, "Now we're going to have one nice dry Martini and then we're going to have dinner- chicken and dumplings."
Dianne Alder said, "I've heard of Mrs. Kirby's chicken and dumplings. They're almost as famous as Perry Mason."
"You're looking forward to them?" Della Street asked.
"Am I looking forward to them? I'm simply ravenous!"
Mason and Della Street exchanged glances.
It wasn't until after the cocktails and just before sitting down to dinner that Mason was able to jockey Della Street into a corner for a hurried confidential conversation.
"What is this?" he asked. "Some sort of a trap or frame-up?"
"I don't think so," she said. "It was just a surprise Aunt Mae was planning for us. She knew that I was interested and evidently she's known Dianne for some time. She invited her to come over for dinner and meet you.
"Usually Aunt Mae is very considerate. She knows there are lots of people here who are dying to meet you, and when you're here for dinner she never invites anyone else. This time is the exception."
"Found out anything?" Mason asked.
Della shook her head and was on the point of saying something when Mae said, "Come on now, you two. You're either talking business or making love, and you shouldn't do either on an empty stomach. Come on in here and sit down. You sit there, Perry, and Della, you sit over here. Dianne can sit next to me."
Thirty minutes later when they had finished with their hot mince pie and coffee, Della Street said, "Well, it was wonderful, Aunt Mae, but I'm afraid I've put on a pound and a half."
"So have I-at least I hope I have," Dianne said.
Mason raised his eyebrows.
There was silence for a moment and then Della Street said, "You hope you have?"
"Yes, I'm trying to gain weight."
Della Street glanced at the front of the girl's dress and Dianne laughed somewhat awkwardly. "It's something I can't discuss," she said. "I know how you feel. You think I don't need it, but actually I -.. well, I have to put on another four pounds."
"What are you going to do," Della Street asked, "take up wrestling?- No, no, I didn't mean it that way, Dianne. I just wondered, the way you said it, you sounded as though you were trying to make a definite weight."
"But I am."
Mason raised his brows in a silent question.
She flushed slightly and said, "I don't know how the subject came up. I- Oh, skip it."
"Of course," Della Street said, "we don't want to pry, but now you certainly have aroused our curiosity, and I know my boss well enough to know that when his curiosity is once aroused it gnaws at his consciousness like termites in a building. You'd better tell us-that is, if it isn't too confidential."
"Well," Dianne said, "it's confidential in a way-that is, I'm not supposed to talk about it. But I know that Mrs. Kirby can be just as close-lipped as anyone. That's one thing about her, she never does gossip-and for the rest of it, I'm talking to an attorney and his secretary."
"Go ahead," Della Street invited.
"Well," Dianne said, "the truth of the matter is I'm going to model a new style."
"A new style?" Della Street asked, as Dianne broke off to laugh self-consciously.
"It sounds absolutely absurd," she said, "but I'm getting paid to put on weight and… well, that's all there is to it."
"Now, wait a minute," Della Street said. "Let's see if I get this straight. You're being paid money to put on more weight?"
"Twelve pounds from the time I started."
"Within a time limit?"
"Yes."
"And someone is paying you for it?"
"Yes. Some designers. The- Oh, I know it sounds silly and… I don't know how I got started on this. It- Well, anyway, some style designers feel that there has been too great a tendency to take off weight, that everyone is fighting weight and it isn't natural and that people would be a lot happier and feel a lot better if they didn't keep so diet conscious, if they were free to eat what they wanted.
"Of course there are people who are simply fat, and my sponsors don't want that. They have been looking for some time for a young woman who is-well, as they expressed it, firmly fleshed, who could put on enough weight to wear certain styles they wanted to bring out. They're going to photograph me and put me on television. Well, that's it. I'm to be a new sort of model, start a trend.