“Is there any evidence I did anything like that?” Mason asked.
“Burger says there is. Two of the boys saw you throw something out into the water.”
“Oh Lord!” Mason exclaimed. “How dumb can the guy get! I threw a stone out into the water to estimate the distance where Nadine’s bottle would have hit the water.”
“Well, the kids saw you throwing something and that’s enough for the district attorney.”
Mason began to laugh, then suddenly became serious. “Go ahead, Paul.”
“That’s it,” Drake said. “That’s the story, Perry. The D.A. got to thinking things over and it occurred to him that that would be what he referred to as ‘a typical Perry Mason trick.’ So he ordered a radio car to go back and hire boys to search the lake again. And they found this other bottle, which Burger, of course, insists is the real bottle.
“If you were in Burger’s shoes you’d feel the same way he does. He acted on a hunch, and as a result of that hunch he uncovered the evidence.”
“How did you get the information, Paul?”
“From one of the newspaper reporters.”
“Hamilton Burger is giving it to the papers?”
“He’s being very ethical. He’s letting the police give it. The cops are making a dramatic story out of it. Apparently the murder case blew up when the bottle which had been recovered proved to contain only a sugar substitute. But good old Hamilton Burger, realizing the fact that he was dealing with Perry Mason, whose reputation for being ingeniously resourceful is well known in legal circles, insisted that there was no direct evidence that this bottle which Perry Mason had so ‘opportunely recovered’ was the same bottle which Nadine Farr had admitted throwing into the lake.
“So Hamilton Burger, with his keenly logical legal mind, refused to be diverted from the scent. He sent divers down to look for another bottle. And, sure enough, they found that other bottle and apparently it contained cyanide. In any event, the substance has the distinctive odor of cyanide and is now in the process of being analyzed.”
Mason motioned to Della Street. “Get Nadine on the phone.”
Della Street’s nimble fingers flew over the dial on the telephone.
Mason lit a cigarette.
Drake, his voice showing his concern, said, “Perry, you didn’t^ did you?”
“Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t plant that bottle?”
“Hell’s bells,” Mason said, “do I look like a damn fool, Paul?”
“But if you had got away with it, it would have been such a slick scheme. It was diabolically ingenious — an answer to the whole puzzle, a simple solution that would have left Hamilton Burger out on the end of a limb, the laughingstock of everyone.”
“In other words,” Mason said, somewhat ominously, “what Hamilton Burger calls ‘a typical Perry Mason trick.’ ”
“Now don’t get me wrong, Perry,” Drake said. “I was just asking.”
“Well,” Mason said, “for your information, Paul, that is not a typical Perry Mason trick. I sometimes do things that will expose the weakness of the police theory. I sometimes cross-examine a witness by bringing him face to face with physical conditions which demonstrate the fallacy of his testimony, but I don’t go around planting evidence in order to compound murders.”
Drake’s face showed relief. He settled back in the chair. “Well,” he said, “that’s that. Although I’m darned if I know just how you’re going to go about proving that you didn’t do it.”
Mason said, “Let’s let Hamilton Burger go about proving that I did do it.”
Drake shook his head. “As far as public opinion is concerned he’s already done that. When a man says, ‘I feel that this magician was intending to pull a rabbit out of his hat; if I’m right, when I look in the silk hat I’ll find a rabbit,’ and then he looks in the silk hat and pulls out a rabbit, he’s proved his point as far as popular opinion is concerned.”
Della Street, looking up from the telephone, said, “The motel reports that Miss Farr has checked out.”
“Who’s on the line?” Mason asked.
“The manager — in this case a woman.”
“Let me talk with her.”
Mason picked up the phone, said, “Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you but I’m very anxious to get some information about Miss Farr. You say she’s checked out?”
“That’s right. She was only here a short time.”
“Can you tell me how she left?”
“A young man called for her. He asked for the number of Miss Farr’s unit. I gave it to him and... well, under the circumstances, I made it a point to keep an eye on him. We have to be rather careful, you know, particularly with single women who register.
“There was some suspicion because Miss Farr and another young woman came in together and rented separate units. However, apparently it was quite all right. Miss Farr checked out a few minutes after the young man called for her. They drove away together.”
“And about how long ago?” Mason asked.
“Not over ten or fifteen minutes. Now may I ask who you are and what is the reason for your interest?”
Mason said, “I’m acting in loco parentis, and thank you very much.”
The lawyer hung up, turned to Paul Drake. “All right, Paul. Back to normal.”
“What do you mean?” Drake asked.
“You were complaining about this case,” Mason said. “You had become so accustomed to being rushed you didn’t want to do things in a leisurely manner. That’s all over now. You can get back to the routine of running around in circles, putting on swarms of operatives, burning the midnight oil, juggling phone calls.”
“What do you want?”
“Everything you can get your hands on,” Mason said. “I want a line on John Avington Locke, a young chap in whom Nadine is very much interested and with whom she left the High-Tide Motel at the beach fifteen minutes ago. I want to know everything I can about the background of Mosher Higley. I want to find out about Mr. and Mrs. Jackson Newburn. I want to know what the police are doing in this case. I want to know everything that’s pertinent.”
Drake said, “This character they call Cap’n Hugo is in my office. He worked for Mosher Higley for years and years. He’s quite a character. I suggested that he come in and see you.”
“When?” Mason asked.
“I told him to come in during office hours and wait in my office, but he came strolling in just before I got that report about the second bottle of poison. I left him sitting there and dashed on in here.”
“What does he know?” Mason asked.
“Everything.”
“Go on,” Mason said.
“He was a general man of all work. He’d been with Mosher Higley for some thirty years. When my men interviewed him they found out Cap’n Hugo is one of those rich, racy characters who doesn’t miss a thing. My man made a report giving me a summary of Hugo’s story, but he said I should talk with Hugo myself because there’s a certain amount of local color about him that can’t be put in a report. So I thought I’d size him up and you could see him if it seemed worthwhile.”
“Hugo agreed to come in?”
“He didn’t want to,” Drake said. “Claimed that he was busy. My man told him he’d pay him ten dollars to come in and talk with me and Hugo grabbed the money. Higley left him without a cent.”