"How long after you saw me leaving the offices was it that Duncan came out?"
"Three or four minutes-not very long."
"How long after that did Sylvia go up on deck?"
"Almost immediately, Mr. Mason."
"Then what?"
"That's all. I followed Mrs. Oxman ashore, and then Staples told me to check out…"
"Now, wait a minute," Mason interrupted. "Have you told us absolutely everything that happened, Belgrade?"
"Why, yes, as nearly as I can remember it."
"Did you speak to Sylvia?"
Belgrade's face twisted with sudden expression. "Yes, that's right I did tell Sylvia to beat it because her husband was aboard."
"Ah," Mason said. "Now we're getting somewhere. Just why did you tell Sylvia to beat it?"
Belgrade said, "I knew something was wrong. I didn't know what it was, but I could see that you were handcuffed when you came out of that office. Now, you're a big-time lawyer. No one's going to handcuff you unless something pretty serious has happened. I had an idea you were covering for Sylvia and that you'd want her off the ship, but I didn't know how to get her off. Then suddenly it occurred to me I could stick my head out the door and say, 'Your husband's aboard, beat it,' and then duck back out of sight, make a dash for the speed boat, and get myself aboard. I figured Sylvia would come rushing down from the deck and take that same speed boat. If she didn't, I could pretend I'd changed my mind and get off."
"And that's what you did?"
"Yes, sir. I ran down and got a seat in the speed boat and she followed within less than a minute."
"Now," Mason told him, "I'll ask a question Paul Drake was going to ask a minute ago. How did you happen to know Sylvia Oxman's husband?"
Belgrade twisted uneasily in his chair, glanced at his wife, then dropped his eyes to inspect the toes of his shoes.
"Go ahead," Mason told him. "You're in this thing pretty deep, George. Half-way measures won't get you out of it. You'll have to come clean."
Belgrade raised his eyes to Mason's. "I'd prefer not to answer that question, Mr. Mason."
"You'll have to."
"I'd be betraying a confidence someone had placed in me."
Drake's laugh was sarcastic. "You haven't shown any reticence about betraying confidences so far," he said.
"Shut up, Paul," Mason remarked, without taking his eyes from Belgrade's face. "What is it, George?"
"I worked for Frank Oxman," Belgrade blurted.
"When?"
"About a month ago."
"How long did you work for him?"
"A little over two weeks."
"How did you happen to work for him?"
"Oxman contacted an agency where I'd been doing some work," Belgrade said. "He was looking for an experienced operative. The agency took a cut and referred him to me.
"You understand how it is, Mr. Mason. Us detectives don't work steadily. We work by the job. For instance, you'll have a job for Drake's agency and Drake will hire ten or fifteen, or perhaps twenty of us boys who are registered with him. We're also registered with half a dozen other agencies. When we're not working for one agency we work for another. That enables us to work more or less steadily, but keeps the agencies from carrying a big pay-roll when they ain't busy."
"Then you register with various agencies in advance?" Mason asked.
"That's right."
"And you furnish references or something of that sort?"
"Oh, sure. We have to fill out a questionnaire, give references, tell all about our past employment, the amount of our experience, the type of work we're best adapted to, whether we can go out in evening clothes, whether we have a car of our own, and all that sort of stuff."
"Now, Frank Oxman wanted someone to shadow his wife?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you did the job?"
"Yes, sir."
"For how long?"
"Sixteen days, I think."
"What did you find out? Anything?" Mason asked.
Belgrade lowered his eyes. "I found out enough to sympathize with her," he said, "but sympathies don't put any butter on my bread. She's every inch a lady, but she's impulsive and she's out for a good time. A couple of times men picked her up on the gambling ship, and she played around a bit with them."
"What do you mean by playing around?"
"Nothing serious."
"You reported this to Frank Oxman?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Drake asked.
"I never had a chance to," Belgrade said. "You told me you wanted me to do some work on a case Mr. Mason was interested in. You simply told me to go out to a certain address and shadow the maid who was working there. And you gave me a description. I recognized the address as that of Oxman's house, but I supposed you were working on the maid. I didn't know you were after Mrs. Oxman. Then, after a while, when I telephoned in a report that the maid was starting out with a fur coat, you told me to tail her and switch to Mrs. Oxman in case the maid contacted her. Even then, I supposed Mr. Mason was working for Frank Oxman and was getting ready to bring a divorce case or something. But, after we got on the ship, and I saw Mr. Mason apparently taking a rap for Mrs. Oxman, I knew he wasn't working for Oxman and figured there must be bigger game at stake."
"That's a hell of an explanation," Drake said skeptically.
"But it's the truth," Belgrade insisted.
"Did you know Oxman had gone ashore before his wife left the gambling ship?" Mason asked.
"No, sir, I didn't. I thought Oxman was still on the ship."
Drake said, "As far as I'm concerned, Belgrade, you're finished with detective work. You're altogether too damned loquacious for a detective."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Drake. I tried to give you a square deal."
Mrs. Belgrade's voice was bitter. "Don't give him anything, George. He pays you eight dollars a day and expenses, and expects you to give him your soul."
"Shut up, Flo," Belgrade said tonelessly.
"I won't either shut up. I think it's an outrage! You work day and night, take all sorts of chances, and are out in all kinds of weather, and what does it get you? The first time you…"
"You keep out of this, Flo," Belgrade said, raising his voice. "Don't you understand Mr. Drake can fix it so no other agency will ever employ me?"
"Well, what if he does? You got out of the detective business once, and you can get out of it again. There's lots of ways to make a living without working for a bunch of slave-drivers, who don't appreciate honesty when they see it."
"Did you see Sylvia Oxman toss a gun overboard?" Mason asked Belgrade, interrupting.
"No, sir, I didn't."
"Could she have done so without you seeing her?"
"I guess so. Yes. You see, I thought she'd taken a tumble to me. I wanted to get her off the gambling ship, and I wanted to be in the same speed boat she took; but I didn't want her to see me. I knew my only chance was to figure what speed boat she was going to take, and get aboard first. If I followed her down to the speed boat, I figured she might take a tumble. I just did the best I could, Mr. Mason."
Mason nodded to Drake and said, "I think that's all, Belgrade. Come on, Paul. Let's let Belgrade change his clothes."
"They've served you with a subpoena?" Belgrade asked Mason.
The lawyer avoided the question, saying easily as he started for the door: "You'll want to make a good impression with that Federal Grand Jury, George. I'm going to talk with Mr. Drake about you. The more I think things over, the more I realize you were placed in a very peculiar situation, one which wouldn't confront a detective once in ten years. I can understand just how you felt."
Drake's fingers closed about the lawyer's elbow. "Come on, Perry," he said.