“It was serious,” Mason said. “What about your fears?”
“My car was stolen on the afternoon of the third. The police recovered it later on that evening, parked in front of a fireplug in the downtown district. The gasoline tank was half empty and the car had been driven over a hundred miles.”
“Quick work,” Mason said.
“On the part of the police?” Argyle asked.
Mason smiled.
Argyle frowned.
Mason said, “I’m representing Bob Finchley. His mother was driving the car. She was badly shaken up. The car was pretty well wrecked. Bob Finchley sustained a broken hip. It’s too early yet to tell whether there will be complications.”
“Indeed. That’s too bad,” Argyle said. “I will have to consult my lawyers. As I understand it, Mr. Mason, in the event I let anyone use my car with my permission I am responsible for damages, but, of course, in the event of theft...”
Argyle shrugged his shoulders, tapped ash from the end of his cigar.
Mason said, “Let’s quit beating around the bush. That stall about the stolen car is two years older than Moses. In addition to which, it stinks.”
The chauffeur took a step forward.
Argyle waved him back.
“Now, Mr. Mason,” Argyle said, “I’m satisfied that as an attorney you wouldn’t want to make any insinuations.”
“All right,” Mason said, “I’ll go at it the long way round. When was the car stolen?”
“Sometime around three o’clock in the afternoon.”
Mason smiled. “When was the car reported stolen?”
“I didn’t miss it until around seven o’clock,” Argyle said. “I had left it parked at the curb in front of my club. I went out to get in the car and it was gone.”
“And you immediately reported it to the police?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Using the club telephone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how far away from the place where the car was stolen was it recovered?”
“I would say not over eight or ten blocks.”
Mason said, “The boy’s pretty badly injured. He’s going to be laid up for a while and the mother has of course suffered nervous shock. Then there’s the matter of the car.”
“Surely, Mr. Mason, you don’t think I’m liable.”
“Why not?”
“I tell you the car was stolen.”
Mason grinned. “As you so aptly stated, as a lawyer, I’m too smart to make any accusations — in front of witnesses. You’ll have a lo: of fun listening to what I tell a jury, however.”
“Surely, Mr. Mason, you don’t doubt my word. Good heavens, I’m a responsible citizen! My car is fully insured. If there were any question of liability on my part, I would be only too glad to make an adjustment. A? it is, my insurance company will handle things.”
“All right,” Mason said. “If that’s the way you want it, I’ll do business with your insurance company.”
“Provided, of course, there’s any liability.”
“Oh, certainly,” Mason said. “What’s the name of the club where you spent the afternoon?”
“The Broadway Athletic Club.”
Mason got to his feet. “Nice to have met you,” he said, and started for the door.
Argyle arose, hesitated, then sat down again.
The chauffeur saw Mason to the door.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said.
A moment later the door slammed.
Chapter 6
The office of the Drake Detective Agency was on the same floor as Mason’s offices. Mason stopped in hurriedly for a few words with Paul Drake.
“By gosh, Perry, we hit the jack pot. I can’t figure out how it happened, but it’s the jack pot!”
“I want men on the job immediately, Paul. Men who can really do an intelligent job. I want Stephen Argyle checked for the afternoon of the third. He was probably at the Broadway Athletic Club. I want to know how much he drank. I want to know how long he was there. I want to know whether people who were there with him noticed any break in the continuity of his visit. I want to find out everything we can from the doorman. I think the doorman may have been bribed. I don’t think we have enough money to compete with Stephen Argyle, on bribery, so we’re going to have to throw a scare into the doorman. I want a man who can really scare the guy.
“I want to find out all about the records of Argyle’s car, which was supposed to have been stolen on the afternoon of the third, when it was reported stolen, when it was recovered, all about it. I particularly want to find out if Stephen Argyle didn’t drive up to the Broadway Athletic Club in a taxicab sometime between five and six. At that hour people were dropping in for cocktails and you should be able to find some club member who saw him arrive in a taxi. You’re going to have to work fast.”
“Okay,” Drake said, “I’m on the job. How many men shall I put out?”
“As many as it takes,” Mason said. “We’re going to get the dope and when we get it, we’re going to send the bill to Stephen Argyle and make him pay it and like it.”
“He’s the man all right?”
“It was his car,” Mason said, “and I think he’s the man. Incidentally, I want to find out everything I can about him. I have an idea his wife is dead or has recently left him.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“He has a butler and chauffeur,” Mason said, “who certainly wouldn’t get along for five minutes in a house where there was a woman. Yet the house on Casino Boulevard is a great big place and apparently Stephen Argyle does most of his living in one room, a room which fairly reeks of tobacco.”
Drake said, “Okay, Perry, I’ll put men on the job right away. By the way, Perry, you were right about that flirtatious young grass widow. She sent her little playmate in to collect the hundred bucks.”
“Well, she’s entitled to it. Hang it, I can’t figure that one out. She certainly had me fooled. When did this dame come in for the reward?”
“Not over five minutes ago,” Drake said. “I sent her down to your office and told her Della Street, your secretary, would take care of it.”
“Who is she?” Mason asked.
“A right cute little number, name of Carlotta Boone. She was very coy about it and, of course, wouldn’t let on that she knew anything at all about Lucille Barton. She simply said she’d come to collect the hundred dollars’ reward.”
“I’ll go see her,” Mason said. “You rush men out to get the dope on Argyle. I’m really going to shake him down for a settlement — we’ll give that Finchley kid a chance to finish his college education in return for the inconvenience of a broken hip.”
“Don’t let Argyle off the hook too easy,” Drake warned. “I detest these hit-and-run boys who try to get away with it, and who probably have enough political pull to help them out in case the going gets tough.”
“I’ll stick him,” Mason grinned. “And now I’ll go pay Lucille her hundred dollars. It’s going to be interesting to listen to the way Carlotta Boone tries to get the hundred without betraying Lucille’s frame-up. Okay, Paul, I’m on my way.”
Drake said, “I’ll have men on the job within five minutes.”
Mason walked down the corridor to his own office, whistling a little tune. He unlocked the door of his private office, entered, grinned at Della Street, sailed his hat over to the shelf in the coat closet and said, “Well, Della, I understand Lucille has sent a stooge for the hundred dollars.”
Della Street’s face was a mask of perplexity. “Wait until you hear her story.”