“When you look at it that way, it all fits,” Drake admitted.
“Anything else, Paul?”
“They made a paraffin test on Pitkin’s hands. That, of course, isn’t as conclusive as it might be, but nevertheless it means a lot where they get an absolutely negative reaction within such a short time after a gun has been fired.”
“There was no reaction?”
“Not at all. Police did a good job on that one. They made the test even before the body was moved. Something about the case made them a little suspicious.”
“Do you know what it was, Paul?”
“I think I do, Perry.”
“What?”
“You’re not going to like this.”
“Hell, I don’t like any of it,” Mason said.
“Well, there was quite a little spot of blood on the garage floor directly underneath the gun. Now of course it could have happened that way, but police are inclined to think it didn’t. The man could have shot himself, then remained on his feet for a second or two, and blood could have spilled, and then he could have fallen over and dropped the gun. But you know how Lieutenant Tragg is, he’s a thorough worker and a smooth worker.”
“Yes,” Mason said, “I know how he is. You aren’t holding anything else back on the theory that you want to give me this stuff in small doses, are you, Paul?”
“That’s all of it to date.”
“Well, it sounds like enough,” Mason said, and hung up the phone.
“What is it?” Della Street asked.
Mason said, “Whoever pulled off that job last night wasn’t half as clever as I’d thought. But it’s too late to worry now, Della. If Carlotta Boone, who gave us the tip on Caffee’s license number, comes in, give her a check for one hundred dollars. Be sure it’s a check and not cash. Tell her we need the canceled check for our accounting.”
“So we can see where she cashes it and perhaps trace her if we have to?”
“That’s right. Hold the fort, Della. I’m on my way.”
Chapter 18
It was eleven o’clock when Mason returned to the office building.
“Good morning, Mr. Mason,” he said. “How’s everything this morning?”
Mason glanced sharply at him, said, “Okay. You’re one of Drake’s men, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. Just going up to report.”
Mason felt the man’s hand brush against his and a card was deftly inserted between the lawyer’s thumb and forefinger.
Mason pocketed the card, then said, “Hang it, there was a telephone number I was supposed to call. What the deuce did I do with it?”
He made a show of searching his pockets, then finally drew out the card which Drake’s operative had just given him. He said, “Here it is,” and held it in his hand so that he could read the message which had been written on it.
The card was in Della Street’s handwriting and said, C.B. CAME IN. GOT CHECK $100. LOTS OF VISITORS-OFFICIAL-WAITING.
“Oh, well,” Mason said, “I guess it’s not too late. I’ll call as soon as I get to my office.”
The elevator stopped at his floor. Drake’s detective entered the office of the Drake Detective Agency without a word, and Mason walked down the corridor and fitted his key to the lock of the door to his private office.
“Well, Della,” he said, “I guess we’ve... hello,” he exclaimed abruptly, as he saw the office was filled with people.
Lieutenant Tragg removed a cigar from his mouth, said, “Hello, Mason.”
“Well, well, hello, Lieutenant! How are you? You seem to have quite a gathering here.”
“Yes,” Tragg said, “I think you know Lucille Barton and Arthur Colson. This is one of my plain-clothes men here. Come in and sit down, Mason. We want to talk with you.”
“Fine,” Mason said. “How have you been, Tragg?”
“Sit down,” Tragg said. “Make yourself comfortable. This may be a long session. I’m going to warn you, Mason, that you’re not going to like this.”
Mason smiled at Lucille Barton, who looked as though she hadn’t slept all night. “How are you, Lucille? I see by the morning papers that you’ve had quite a shock.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes avoiding Mason.
“How are you today?” Mason said to Arthur Colson.
“Fine,” Arthur Colson said, keeping his eyes concentrated on the carpet.
“Where were you about six o’clock last night, Mason?” Tragg asked.
“Well, start thinking.”
“All right.”
“Keep thinking.”
“How long do you want me to keep thinking?” Mason asked.
“Until you think of the answer.”
Mason frowned, settled himself behind his office desk, noticed Della Street’s apprehensive eyes.
“Well?” Tragg said, after some two minutes.
“Haven’t thought of it yet,” Mason grinned.
Tragg’s face showed concern. “Look, Mason, I like you. I want to give you the breaks, but I’m going to tell you something. This is murder, and you’re in a different position than you usually occupy in a murder case.”
“Indeed,” Mason said. “Well, I’ll have a cigarette. I notice you’re smoking, Tragg. How about you people, want a cigarette?”
Two heads shook in silent unison.
“How about you?” Mason asked the plain-clothes officer.
“No, thanks.”
Mason lit up, settled back once more in his chair.
“All right,” Tragg said, “if you’re going to take time to think, we’ll make a record of how long you think.” He took his watch out from his pocket, said, “Now then, Mason, I’m going to ask you for the second time. Where were you about six o’clock last night?”
Mason watched Tragg’s eyes glued to the face of the watch, said, “I can’t tell you, Tragg.”
“Keep thinking,” Tragg said.
“I know now where I was,” Mason said, “but I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“It would be violating a professional confidence.”
“Having to do with what clients?”
Mason smilingly shook his head, “After all, Lieutenant, there are some things we can’t discuss, you know. A lawyer has a certain obligation to his client.”
Tragg, with a gesture of exasperation, put the watch away, said, “You were interested last night in a gun. A Smith and Wesson having the number S65088.”
“Was I?” Mason asked.
“You know you were. You had a detective from Santa del Barra get in touch with Roscoe Hansom who runs the Rushing Creek Mercantile Company and inquire about the sale of that gun.”
“Well,” Mason said, “if you want to make positive statements like that, Lieutenant, I certainly don’t want to contradict you.”
Tragg said, “I became interested in that same gun a short time later. I roused the telephone operator at Rushing Creek out of bed and got her to get Roscoe Hansom out of his bed. Your man had just left about half an hour before with the information.”
“Indeed.”
“Why were you interested in that gun?”
“I wanted to find out who had purchased it.”
“Why?”
“For various reasons.”
Tragg said, “That gun was involved in a murder. The murder was committed around six o’clock. The body wasn’t found until around ten-thirty. Now then, Mason, how did you know the gun was going to figure in a murder case as early as nine o’clock?”
“I didn’t,” Mason said, his voice and manner showing complete surprise.