Chapter Seven
Mason followed Della Street into the elevator, said, “Well, I guess the day is all shot to pieces now.”
Della laughed. “And how you enjoy it! You hate routine work and whenever any excuse comes up that enables you to break away from office work and dictation you’re as pleased as a seven-year-old kid who has just learned that the schoolhouse has burned down.”
Mason grinned at Della Street’s comment. The assistant janitor who operated one of the elevators on Saturday afternoons said, “I think you’ve got someone waiting to see you, Mr. Mason.” He brought the cage to a stop, still holding the door closed.
Mason frowned.
“He came up about half an hour ago. I told him you weren’t in and he’d have to sign the register to get in on Saturday afternoon, unless he was going to one of the offices that were regularly open on a twenty-four-hour basis, such as the Drake Detective Agency.”
“What did he say?” Mason asked.
“He looked me right in the eye and said he was really intending to go to the Drake Detective Agency; that he’d simply asked about you on the off-chance you might be in your office. I think he was lying.”
“Okay,” Mason said. “We can turn him down fast.”
“And hard,” Della Street amended.
The janitor slid the doors open. Mason and Della Street stepped out into the corridor.
A man who had been standing just beside the door of the Drake Detective Agency said, “Are you Mr. Mason?”
Mason regarded him without cordiality. “I’m Mr. Mason,” he said. “It’s Saturday. My secretary has sacrificed her week end in order to help me get out some emergency work and I’m not seeing clients.”
The man, who seemed to be having some difficulty with his speech, said, “This is an emergency, Mr. Mason. It has to do with Miss Norda Allison. It’s very important.”
Mason regarded the man sharply. “All right,” he said, “I’ll let you come in. You’ll have to be brief.”
The three of them walked in silence down the echoing corridor of the building, turned at the door of Mason’s private office. Mason unlatched the door, held it open for Della Street and his visitor, then followed them in, seated himself behind the desk, said, “All right, let’s have it.”
“I’m Nathan Benedict,” the man said. “I have known Miss Allison for some time. I knew about her... her attachment for Mervin Selkirk — Selkirk broke my jaw.”
“Oh, yes,” Mason said. “And what are you doing down here, Mr. Benedict?”
Benedict started to say something, then seemed momentarily unable to speak. When he had recovered himself, he said, “You’re going to have to make allowances, Mr. Mason. My jaw gives me a little trouble yet — not so much the bones as the muscles.”
Mason nodded.
“I came down here to protect Norda Allison,” Benedict said. “I think a great deal of her. This Selkirk is a dangerous man, Mr. Mason; an absolutely dangerous man. I know from experience.”
Mason sat silently contemplating his visitor while Della Street took rapid notes in her shorthand book.
“Selkirk deliberately attacked me,” Benedict went on. “He thrust his foot out as I walked across the floor, then jumped up, yelled, ‘Who are you pushing?’ and pulled his fist, with the brass knuckles already in place, out of his pocket. He hit me a terrific blow, then stepped back and slipped the brass knuckles to one of his acquaintances.”
“Any idea who those friends of his were?” Mason asked.
“One of them remained and gave his name to the police. The other seemed to fade out of the picture. I think it was the other one who took the brass knuckles away with him.”
“You don’t know his name?”
Benedict shook his head.
“All right,” Mason said, “in view of developments I think we can find who that man was, and it’s vitally important to find out something about him.
“Della.”
Della Street looked up from her notebook.
“As soon as Mr. Benedict leaves,” Mason said, “contact Paul Drake. Tell him we want the complete low-down on that altercation in the bar in which Mr. Benedict was injured; we want the names of the people who were with Selkirk, and we want to interview them before the police do. I want to find out something about those brass knuckles.
“All right, Benedict, go ahead. What’s the rest of it?”
“Well, that’s all there is,” Benedict said. “I knew Norda Allison was coming down here to see Lorraine Jennings, who was Selkirk’s first wife. I have an idea they’re trying to get Norda mixed up in a fight over the custody of the child. If she gets mixed up in that, I know she’ll be in danger.”
“How did you happen to come to me?” Mason asked.
“I rang up the Jennings’ residence a while ago. Jennings answered the phone. I told him it was important that I speak with Norda. I was told she wasn’t there. Jennings seemed rather frigidly formal about it, too. I suppose he doesn’t understand my motives.
“He told me that if I wanted to know anything about Norda Allison I would have to get in touch with you; that you were the only one who could give me any information.”
“And what made you think I would be at my office this afternoon?”
“Jennings said he thought you were here, or would be here later.”
“I see,” Mason said thoughtfully. “And Jennings didn’t seem to be cordial?”
“He was very cool over the telephone. Of course, I can’t blame him. I suppose Norda will be angry, too.”
“When did you arrive here in this city?” Mason asked.
“Last night, about ten-thirty.”
“How did you know Miss Allison was here?”
“I drove her to the airport.”
“And then?”
“I saw her on the plane, then went and purchased a ticket and took the next plane.”
“And then?”
“I rented a car at the airport.”
“And then?”
Benedict cleared his throat. “I drove out to the Jennings’ place to keep watch.”
Mason glanced over at Della Street’s busy pen. “What happened — if anything?”
“I was watching the house. Foolishly, I was smoking. A prowl car drove past. The officers saw the glowing tip of the cigarette. They went on by. An hour later they came cruising by again and asked me what I was waiting for. They made me show them my driving license and told me to get out of the neighborhood and go to bed.
“I felt terribly humiliated, but I went to a motel. About eight-thirty I rang the Jennings residence and asked for Norda. I was told she was still asleep. I left word for her to call and left my number.”
“Then what?” Mason asked.
“Then I waited and waited. When she hadn’t called by midafternoon I was afraid she was angry. I felt I’d messed things up some way. I called again an hour or so ago and that was when Jennings said I’d have to see you.”
“I see,” Mason said thoughtfully. “Just how did you propose to protect Miss Allison, Mr. Benedict?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to protect her.”
Mason said, “You’re not particularly robust physically and in dealing with Mervin Selkirk you would have been dealing with a cold-blooded, ruthless individual who would stop at nothing. You have already had one contact from which you emerged second best.”
Benedict nodded, tight-lipped.
“Yet you say you intend to protect Norda Allison?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Well, if you must know,” Benedict said, “in my position I sometimes have occasion to carry large sums of money. I have a permit to carry a weapon, and—”
“Let’s see it,” Mason said.
Benedict frowned and hesitated.