Mason indicated the telephone instrument to Adelle Hastings. “Want to take the call here,” he asked, “or in the law library?”
“Why, I’ll take it here,” she said.
She picked up the telephone, said, “Hello, Simley. This is Adelle. You... What! WHAT!!.. Oh, my God!.. No... You’ve... you’ve notified the police?... Good heavens... There’s nothing I can say. This is a terrific shock!.. Look, Simley, I’ll be in touch with you later. I— Oh, I just can’t adjust myself to— Well, thanks for letting me know... Yes, of course you can tell the police where I am, but if it’s all right with Mr. Mason I want to go out there right away... I— Well, yes... yes, you can tell them. Perhaps that will be best, after all. Thanks for letting me know, Simley.”
She hung up and turned to Mason. “My husband,” she said, “has been murdered!”
“Surprised?” Mason asked.
“I... I guess subconsciously I’ve been fearing it, Mr. Mason, but the— This information has knocked me for a loop.”
Mason said, “You may not have much time. You’d better tell me what he told you.”
“He went out there and let himself into the house. My husband was in bed. He’d been shot twice in the head, apparently while he was asleep. He’s — .. he’d been dead for some time.”
Adelle Hastings started to cry.
Again the telephone rang.
Della Street answered and said to Mason, “Huntley Banner is calling. Do you want to talk with him?”
“Right now,” Mason said.
He picked up the telephone, said, “Hello, Banner. This is Mason. What’s on your mind this morning?”
“About that property settlement,” Banner said. “I wanted to check with you and see what the situation was.”
“Well, as a matter of fact,” Mason said, “Mrs. Hastings is in my office right now. I’m not much of a horse trader, Banner, and I’d like to know just how high you’re prepared to go.”
“I gave you the figure yesterday.”
Mason said, “Look, Banner, when I’m negotiating a settlement of a lawsuit or property matters between husband and wife, I make it an inflexible rule to reject the first offer that is made by opposing counsel.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Banner said, “Well, what about the second offer?”
“That,” Mason said, “depends on the counsel, the amount of the offer, the tone of voice in which it’s made and a few other considerations. Now, let’s forget this business about what you are prepared to advise your client to do and tell me the most he’s willing to do. Make your top offer and make it now. I’ll either give you an acceptance or a rejection within thirty minutes. If it’s a rejection we won’t do any more negotiating. We’ll go to court. I want your top figure.”
“You had it yesterday,” Banner said.
“No, I didn’t,” Mason told him. “Give me your top figure now.”
“I gave you my top figure yesterday,” Banner said. “That is, that was all I was authorized to offer. I would have to call my client and get authorization if I’m to go any higher.”
“Call your client then,” Mason said.
“You’re going to be there in your office for a while?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll call you right back,” Banner said.
Mason hung up, looked at his watch and said, “We can expect Tragg in about three to five minutes. Mr. Banner is going to call me back as soon as he has conferred with his client.”
“You didn’t tell him that Garvin was... had been...?”
“No,” Mason said. “Let’s put Mr. Huntley L. Banner to the test and see just how he works.”
There was a period of tense, expectant silence. Then the telephone rang and Della Street, picking it up, said, “Mr. Banner again.”
Mason picked up his own telephone, said, “Yes, Banner.”
“I got my client on the phone, Mason. I put the situation up to him just as you had put it up to me. I told him that you weren’t satisfied with the best offer he had authorized me to make, that you were a fighter and you didn’t want to do any horse trading. I told him that if that was his top offer to let me know and we’d prepare to go ahead and fight, that if he wanted to make any higher offer under the circumstances to tell me what it was and to give me his top figure.”
“And what happened?” Mason asked.
“Well, when he found that you were going to be representing his wife he thought the matter over and told me that he’d been giving the whole thing quite a bit of consideration, that he was prepared to make a figure that would be his top figure and that you could either accept it or reject it, that it was as high as he was going to go.”
“How much was it?” Mason asked.
“It was a rather substantial increase,” Banner said. “Frankly, I was very much surprised, Mr. Mason.”
“How much was it?” Mason asked.
“One hundred thousand dollars, payable at the rate of ten thousand dollars a year for ten years plus fifty thousand in his will,” Banner said. “And that really knocked me off the Christmas tree because he had told me yesterday that fifty thousand dollars was as high as he would go, no matter what happened.”
“You’re sure your figures are correct now?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“You were talking with Hastings?”
“Yes.”
“No question about it?” Mason said. “There won’t be any backing up or any question that you didn’t recognize his voice or were talking with someone else?”
“Look here, Mason, I’m an ethical attorney. I don’t do business that way. I’ve been doing Mr. Hastings’ business for some time now. I know his voice and I was talking with Mr. Hastings personally, and that’s his top offer. Now, do you want it or not?”
Mason said, “Congratulations on the neatest trick of the week, Banner.”
“What do you mean?” Banner asked.
“Your client,” Mason said, “has been dead for more than twenty-four hours.”
During the silence at the other end of the line, Mason hung up.
Della Street’s telephone suddenly exploded into a series of short, sharp rings, Gertie’s signal that a police officer had entered the outer office and was on his way in without waiting to be announced.
Mason said to Adelle Hastings, “Here it comes. Get ready.”
The door of the inner office opened abruptly and Lt. Tragg stood in the doorway surveying the occupants of the office with skeptical eyes.
“I take it you’re Mrs. Garvin S. Hastings,” he said, tilting his black hat slightly, studying the shaken client.
“Come in and sit down, Lieutenant,” Mason said, “and there’s no need leading up to a dramatic period of questioning in which you try to get Mrs. Hastings to betray herself. She knows now that her husband is dead. She received a telephone call from her husband’s office manager just a few minutes ago. He advised her that her husband had been shot, and had evidently been dead for some time. He also advised her he was notifying the police. She told him to tell the police she was here.”
“So then you called me with this story about the gun and the lost bag?” Tragg asked, his shrewd eyes suddenly shifting from Adelle Hastings to Perry Mason.
“This call,” Mason said, “was after I had notified you about the bag.”
“How long after?”
“Several minutes.”
“And I take it you have witnesses to prove it.”
“I certainly do. I hope you kept a record of the time my call came in.”
“Pretty shrewd,” Tragg said thoughtfully, as though talking to himself. “Pretty damned shrewd!”
He suddenly shifted his eyes to Adelle Hastings. “All right, Mrs. Hastings, you now know your husband is dead. You know that he’s been shot. Do you know that the shots were fired from the gun that was in your purse?”