“Then what?” Mason asked.
“Then,” she said, “I looked a little further and there was a box with a lot of freshly printed envelopes, the same kind of stamped envelopes that had been used in forwarding those threatening clippings to me. Don’t you see? It’s Lorraine Jennings who is back of all this. She has been trying to poison my mind against Mervin so I would cooperate in giving testimony when she tried to get full custody of Robert.”
“Now wait a minute,” Mason said. “You’re all mixed up. First you’re talking about Mervin’s diabolical ingenuity in having a printing press that would throw the authorities off the trail, and now you’re making it appear that the whole thing was Lorraine Jennings’ idea.”
Norda thought that over for a moment, then said, “I guess I am confused, but... but whether I’m confused or not, I’m right. Now I suppose you’ll say that sounds just like a woman — I don’t care if you do — there are other things.”
“All right,” Mason said. “What are they?”
She said, “I know that a shot was fired during the night. I heard it.”
“You might have heard a truck backfire.”
“I heard a shot,” she said, “and after that there was a sound of a boy crying. It must have been Robert. A woman was trying to comfort him. When I... well, when I went to the tent and looked around, I found an empty cartridge case, the kind that is ejected from a .22 automatic, lying there on the grass.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I picked it up.”
“Where is it now?”
“I have it here.”
She opened her purse, took out the empty .22 cartridge case and handed it to Mason.
The lawyer looked it over, smelted it then placed the empty cartridge case upright on the desk. “Did you take anything else?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Some of the envelopes that had been printed with my name on them. I took two of them out of the box.”
She took two folded stamped envelopes from her purse and handed them to Mason.
Mason studied the printed address. “Well,” he said, “that’s your name printed on there, and the address I assume is accurate?”
She nodded.
“And you think those are the same envelopes that...”
“I’m sure of it, Mr. Mason. I have here one of the envelopes which came through the mail with one of the newspaper clippings.”
She handed him another envelope.
Mason compared the envelopes for a moment, then shook out the newspaper clipping which had been contained in the envelope. It had headlines, JILTED SUITOR KILLS WOMAN.
The clipping had a New York dateline and told of a jilted suitor who had waited until his ex-fiancée, who had become engaged to another man, had left the place where she was working. It was the lunch hour. He had accosted the woman on a crowded sidewalk. Frightened, the woman had turned to flee. The man had drawn a revolver, fired four shots into her, then as she lay dying on the sidewalk in front of a crowd of horror-stricken spectators, he had turned the gun on himself and blown his brains out.
Mason took a magnifying glass and compared the printing on the envelope that had been mailed, with the printing on the stamped, addressed envelope that Norda Allison had handed him.
“They seem to be the same, all right,” Mason said thoughtfully. “What did you do after you made this discovery, Miss Allison?”
She said, “I suppose I was a coward. I should have gone in and confronted them with the evidence but I was so disgusted at their double-crossing and... and I was a little frightened... I guess in a way I lost my head.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t go through the house. I walked back out into the patio, around through the gate, into the front door which I had left unlocked, tiptoed up to the room where I had been sleeping, packed my suitcase and came downstairs. There was a telephone in the hall and I called a taxicab.”
“You didn’t encounter anyone in the house?”
“No one. I think they were all sleeping.”
“What did you do after you took the taxicab?”
“I went to the Millbrae Hotel, registered, got a room, had breakfast and — well, at first I intended just to catch the first plane back to San Francisco. Then I kept thinking that... I can’t explain the apprehension that I have, Mr. Mason, the feeling that something is impending that... I think they’re intending to say I... I did something... I have that feeling.”
“All right,” Mason said. “There may or may not be any reason for it but there’s only one thing for you to do.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Strike first,” Mason told her. “When you’re worried and apprehensive, assume the offensive. No one knows that you found this printing press or the envelopes?”
She shook her head. “I’m certain they don’t. They were either asleep or else they had both gone with Robert to start him on his trip. There were no noises at all in the house. They told me to sleep as late as I could, that they’d call me in time to go see the lawyer.”
Mason thought the situation over.
“Well, anyway there’s the printing press and the stamped, addressed envelopes,” he said. “That’s one clue we can accept as a tangible fact — that is, if you’re being completely truthful with me.”
“I am. What are you going to do?”
“Call the postal inspectors. In the meantime we’ll see that nothing happens to that printing press,” Mason said. “Then we’re going to let Lorraine Jennings explain how those threatening letters came to you in the mail.”
“I thought that’s what I should do,” she said. “But it seemed so... so abrupt. I thought perhaps I should ask them for an explanation. I thought perhaps you could call them and—”
“And by that time the evidence would be destroyed,” Mason said. “No, we’ll go out there and pick up that evidence right now, and then Mrs. Jennings can explain how she happened to be sending you those letters.”
“Do I have to go along to show the officers where it is?”
“You have to go,” Mason told her, “and I’m going with you. We’ll get there before the officers.”
Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mason, you’re... you’re wonderful.”
Chapter Four
Mason eased his car to a stop in front of the house Norda indicated.
“Well,” Mason said, “they’re undoubtedly up by now. I saw someone moving by the window.”
He opened the car door, went around and assisted Norda Allison and Della Street from the car. The trio walked up the wide cement walk to the porch and Mason rang the bell.
Lorraine Jennings opened the door.
“Well, for heaven’s sake!” she exclaimed. “What in the world happened to you, Norda? We thought you were sleeping and didn’t want to disturb you, and then finally I went up to your room and tapped gently on the door. When there was no answer, I eased the door open and you were gone. What’s more, your suitcase, your personal things... what in the world happened? And... who are these people?”
“Permit me,” Mason said. “My name is Perry Mason. I’m an attorney at law. This is Miss Della Street, my confidential secretary.”
Lorraine Jennings’ jaw fell open. For a moment she was speechless. Then she called over her shoulder, “Barton!”
A man’s voice answered, “What is it, dear?”
“Come here,” she said, “quick... no, no, not quick! I forgot about your arthritis.”
She turned quickly to Norda. “Barton’s arthritis bothered him again last night. It’s his knee and when the weather’s going to change it stiffens up. He’s walking with a cane this morning, and...”