Mason said, “Get your coat on quick, Ansley. Let’s be walking along here and try to look inconspicuous.”
The twin headlights became two dazzling eyes. The car swerved, slowed for a moment, then hissed on past, throwing out a stream of moisture which splashed drops on the trio as they stood motionless.
“Let’s go,” Mason said, “before another car comes.”
The lawyer fished the flashlight from his hip pocket, illuminated the way along the shoulder of the road, disclosing a muddy path at the base of the masonry wall.
Della Street took the lead, running lightly. Ansley came behind her, and Mason, holding the flashlight, brought up the rear.
The path followed the wall until it came to the driveway.
Mason said, “Let’s have a look at these gates.”
“Do we have to do anything more? Can’t we just go on?” Ansley asked.
Mason said, “Suppose that other woman who was in the car didn’t get out of the grounds, but is wandering around the grounds. Think what the dogs will do to her.”
“Good heavens!” Della Street said.
Mason said, “In all probability she got out of the grounds, or else she got to the house. However, there’s always the probability. Let’s— Here’s a button.”
Mason’s flashlight disclosed a call button set in solid cement in the masonry. Over the button was a bronze plaque bearing the words, PRESS THIS BUTTON THEN OPEN THE DOOR ON THE LEFT. PICK UP THE TELEPHONE AND STATE YOUR BUSINESS.
Mason jabbed his thumb against the button, opened the door of a metallic box imbedded in the cement, picked up a telephone, and held it to his ear.
Seconds elapsed during which he pressed the button repeatedly and listened at the telephone.
Ansley, plainly nervous, said, “Well, we’ve done all we can.”
“You and Della get in the car,” Mason instructed. “Get out of the rain. I’ll give this another try.”
Mason again pressed the button in a series of signals and held the receiver to his ear.
There was a faint buzzing noise on the line, but nothing else.
Ansley hurried to the car. Della Street stood in the rain at the lawyer’s side. “Isn’t there any other way of reaching the house? Couldn’t we—?”
A feminine voice came over the telephone. “Hello, yes, what is it, please?” she asked.
Mason said, “There’s been an accident. A car is wrecked in your driveway. A young woman may be wandering around the grounds.”
“Who are you?” the voice asked.
“We just happened to be passing by,” Mason said.
“I’ll see what I can do. I don’t think Mr. Borden wants to be disturbed, but—”
An abrupt click at the other end of the line indicated she had hung up.
Mason jabbed the button repeatedly.
After a few moments, he said to Della Street, “Take this, will you, Della? Keep jabbing away. Something caused the woman to hang up. She may be calling Borden. I’ll get things straightened out in the car.”
Della Street put the receiver to her ear, continued to press the button.
Suddenly she said, “Yes, hello.”
There was a moment’s pause. She looked at Mason, nodded, and said, “Mr. Borden, this is an emergency. We’re the party at the gate who reported the auto accident. There’s a possibility that a young woman may have been dazed and thrown out of the car, and may still be wandering around the grounds.”
There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the squawking noises coming from the receiver in the telephone.
Then, as the receiver ceased making noise, Della Street said with dignity, “I see no reason to give you my name. I’m simply a passer-by.”
She hung up.
Mason raised his eyebrows.
“That was Borden himself,” she said. “He told me that someone had set off a burglar alarm by tampering with the gates. He said that the burglar alarm automatically releases watchdogs and turns on the floodlights. He’s going to call the dogs back into their kennels and switch off the floodlights. He insisted someone had tried to open the gates from the inside. We’d probably better get out of here. I think he’ll send someone to investigate.”
Mason grabbed Della Street’s arm and hurried over to the car.
“Well?” Ansley asked.
“We’ve done our duty,” Mason said. “We’ve warned them that someone may be inside the grounds. There’s nothing more we can do. Let’s get out of here. There’ll be someone at the gates any second now.”
“I’m a mess,” Ansley said. “My coat has a tear in it and I’m soaking wet.”
Della Street laughed nervously. “Who isn’t a mess?”
Mason eased the car into gear. “I’ve got to make up some excuse that will get Paul Drake off the hook as far as that stolen-car report is concerned.”
He turned to Ansley. “I’m going to take you back to where you left your car. Get in it and drive home. Don’t send your clothes to the cleaners. Take them off, hang them in a closet and forget about them. Say nothing to anyone about what happened. I’ll take care of the rest.
“In due course I’ll send you a bill for my services.”
Mason drove back to the night club. “Okay, Ansley, pick up your car. Go home. Keep quiet. Notify me if anything happens. I think you’re in the clear.”
Ansley got out in the drizzle. “I’m sure glad I put it in your hands,” he said. “You don’t think I have to tell the police about the accident?”
“You have to report an accident in which someone was injured,” Mason said. “You don’t know anyone was injured. Moreover, the accident took place on a private driveway, not on a public road.”
“Then I don’t need to report it?”
“I didn’t say that,” Mason told him. “I’m simply suggesting that you leave all of that to me.”
“That I’ll gladly do. Exactly what am I supposed to do now?”
“Get in your car and go home.”
Ansley shook hands with Mason and went across to the place where he had parked his car.
Mason said, “All right, Della, I’m driving you home where you can get into some dry clothes, then I’m going up to talk with Paul Drake.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll change a little later on.”
“Now look, Chief, you’re not going to go wandering around in those wet clothes. Paul Drake isn’t in such a jam that it can’t wait, and I’m going up with you.”
“Oh no, you’re not.”
“Oh yes, I am. I’m going to see that you get into some dry clothes before you start running around. You can drive by my apartment. It’ll only take me a minute to change. Then we’ll stop at your place on the way to see Paul Drake.”
“All right,” Mason said after an interval. “Remember what I told Ansley. Don’t send any torn clothes to the cleaners. You didn’t leave any part of your wearing apparel on the barbed wire, did you?”
“Not of my wearing apparel,” she said, “but I’m afraid I left a little skin.”
“Where?” Mason asked. “Where were you scratched?”
She laughed. “Where it won’t show. Don’t worry.”
“You’d better get some antiseptic on the places where you’re scratched,” Mason told her.
“It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.”
Mason drove to Della’s apartment.
“Come on up and have a drink,” she invited, “while I change. It will at least warm you up a bit.”
They went to Della Street’s apartment. She opened the door, said, “The liquor is in the closet over the icebox. While I change, get out some water, sugar and nutmeg and you can mix a couple of those hot buttered rums you make so well. I’m so cold the marrow of my bones feels chilly.”
“You get into a hot bath,” Mason told her. “I’ll go see Drake and—”