“What do you think?” Mason asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Barton Jennings, that’s the man who married Robert’s mother, keeps telling Robert that he mustn’t worry, that it was just a dream. He can’t quite convince Robert that it was.”
“How did Robert happen to have the gun?” Mason asked.
“His mother had a baby sitter who let him play with the gun. She would always unload it before she gave it to him. The boy had a habit of looking at Western pictures and Western shows. He feels a gun is a symbol of protection, of security, of manhood. He’s nervous and sensitive and — well, he’s resourceful.”
“Go on,” Mason said.
“It wasn’t long before Robert wanted a loaded gun. Without this baby sitter, a Mrs. Hannah Bass, knowing any thing about it, he got hold of a .22-caliber cartridge. He’d amuse himself by putting that shell in the magazine, then working the recoil mechanism by hand.
“About a week ago Mr. Jennings, the boy’s stepfather, found Robert had been playing with the gun. At first he was angry, but then he got over it.
“Friday night they both drove to the airport. Robert knew they were going and hadn’t been able to get a baby sitter. They told him they’d only be gone for an hour.
“Robert asked for the gun and Mr. Jennings let him put it under his pillow in the tent in the patio. Robert loaded the gun with the .22 cartridge and put it under his pillow.
“I’ve never seen a boy with such an obsession about guns.”
“All right,” Mason said. “What happened Friday night?”
“Robert must have had a nightmare. He says he heard steps coming toward his tent, then he saw the form of a big man looming in the doorway. He says he groped for the gun — and it went off. He really wasn’t conscious of pulling the trigger, but there was the roar of an explosion, then he heard somebody running away. Robert says he fired the gun. I’m not certain but what someone else, standing just outside the tent, fired a shot. That’s my own idea for what it’s worth. Mr. Jennings says Robert should be led to believe it was all a bad dream. Robert knows better.
“Of course, Robert was only half-conscious at the time. He knows he was holding the gun. He thinks he fired it. Probably he could be made to think it was a dream. Mr. Jennings thinks it can be managed.”
“What did Robert do after the shot?”
“He ran into the house and wakened his mother. She told him Barton Jennings was asleep and had been suffering pain from his arthritis. She told Robert his stepfather had taken medicine to deaden the pain, had gone to sleep and mustn’t be wakened. She told Robert that it was simply an accident; that accidents happen to everyone; that if Robert had heard somebody running away it meant that he had only frightened someone and hadn’t hurt the man. Robert was reassured. After a while he was persuaded to go back to the tent.
“Mrs. Jennings took the empty gun and started to take it back upstairs to put it where it belonged, then remembered a guest, Norda Allison, was in the room. So she left the gun on the stand in the front hall at the foot of the stairs and went back to bed.”
“Where was her husband?” Mason asked.
“Asleep in another downstairs bedroom. When he has his attacks of arthritis, he takes codeine and sleeps in a separate room.”
“How did he find out about it?” the lawyer asked.
“Mrs. Jennings was worried. She slept for an hour or two and then wakened and couldn’t go back to sleep. She heard her husband moving around in his room. That was about daylight. She went to him and told him what had happened. He became very much alarmed. He went out to look around and evidently found something which caused him great concern. He told Mrs. Jennings to take the gun from the place where she had left it on the hall stand and as soon as Norda Allison got up to return it to the drawer where they kept it. Then Mr. Jennings took Robert and brought him to me. I kept Robert all day yesterday and reassured him as best I could. Mr. Jennings said I should do a job of brain washing.
“Then this morning Mr. Jennings brought some of Robert’s clothes to me and said I was to leave at once and take Robert to Mexico City. He said we had reservations at the Hotel Reforma. He gave me money for the fare, told me that we had reservations on a plane and everything was all cared for. We were to leave this morning.
“So we went down to the airport and Mr. Horace Selkirk, the boy’s grandfather, showed up. I had never met him, but he identified himself to me and told me that under no circumstances was Robert to leave the jurisdiction of the court. He said we were to come with him and that he would take the responsibility. He said he would send for Barton Jennings and get the thing straightened out.
“He had a man with him and they put us in an automobile and took us up to Horace Selkirk’s big house. Robert was happy there but I was worried because Mr. Jennings didn’t show up to tell me that I had done the right thing.
“I took Robert in swimming and he had a wonderful time in the pool. He’s visited there several times and always has the time of his life. His grandfather keeps toys and things for him and Robert loves it.
“Well, almost as soon as we had finished dressing after our swim Mr. Selkirk came rushing in to the rooms he had assigned us in the west wing of the house. He was very excited and said we were to pack up at once, get ready to leave and were to come here and wait here until he gave us further orders.”
“What about Barton Jennings?” Mason asked. “Did he ever find out you weren’t going to Mexico City?”
“No. Mr. Horace Selkirk had us write postal cards which he said would be flown to Mexico City and then mailed to Mr. and Mrs. Jennings. He told us that police were questioning the Jennings and that it was absolutely essential that we remain concealed so no one would know where we were. We had an understanding with Mr. Jennings that we would send postal cards that would simply be signed G.R. That stood for Grace and Robert.”
“And you wrote some of those cards?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“There must have been a dozen or so. Horace Selkirk almost threw them at us. He said he’d have them sent to Mexico City and mailed at intervals so no one would become suspicious. He had me scrawling postal cards until I became dizzy.”
Mason studied her carefully for a moment, then said, “All right, now tell me the rest of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s something else. How much did Selkirk promise you, or how much did he give you?”
She lowered her eyes.
Mason stood silent, his eyes steady, waiting.
At length she sighed, raised her eyes. “He gave me a thousand in cash and promised me five thousand more if I followed instructions.”
Mason thought things over for a moment, then said, “Ever hear about the kidnaping law?”
“What do you mean?” she flared. “He’s the boy’s grandfather!”
“And as such has no more to say about his custody than anyone you’d meet on the street,” Mason said. “Right at the moment the child’s mother is the only one who has any say about where he’s to be kept. She told you to take him to Mexico City.”
“It was her husband who told me.”
“But he was speaking for her. You were given custody of the boy to take him to Mexico City. If you take him anywhere else it’s kidnaping.”
“Mr. Selkirk said he’d fix it up with the Jennings.”
“And did he do so?”
“He said he would.”
“Then why promise you money?”
She was silent for several seconds. Then abruptly she said, “I knew I was doing something wrong. Okay, you win. I’m going to Mexico City.”