“Wait a minute. Let’s get this straight. You thought you saw someone you knew — a woman, but you couldn’t find her?”
“It was a case of mistaken identity. I was driving down the main street cruising around, looking for you, when I caught a glimpse of this woman, just as she was turning a corner. I’d already gone past the intersection, so I turned the corner at the next block and tried to find her by running around the block.”
“Who was this woman?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said she was a friend.”
“No. I only thought she was a friend.”
“Who?”
He hesitated a moment, then said, “Mrs. Burr.”
“It wasn’t she?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I asked the night nurse if Mrs. Burr was out. She said Mrs. Burr had gone to bed early.”
“She and her husband have separate rooms?”.
“They do now — after the accident. Before that, they occupied the same room.”
“A nurse is with Burr all the time?”
“Yes, for the present — until after he gets back to a normal state of mind.”
“What’s the matter with his mind?”
“Oh, the usual irresponsibility which follows the use of morphia in some cases. The doctor says it isn’t unusual. He got pretty flighty for a while. His leg’s tied up to a weight though a pulley in the ceiling. They caught him trying to untie the rope. He said he had to get out of there because someone was trying to kill him. The doctor says it’s a post-narcotic reaction, and that it’s all right, but he has to be watched. If he’d managed to get out of bed, he’d have got that fracture out of position and it would have had to be set all over again.”
Mason looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve got work to do.”
“Aren’t you going to stay here tonight?”
Mason shook his head, started for the door, then paused to say, “I’m telling you for the last time — ring up the police and change your identification of that duck.”
Chapter 11
Driving toward town, Della Street said, “You whisked me out of there so fast I didn’t have an opportunity to get it all straight. What happened?”
“Milter was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“The police are going to nominate Marvin Adams within about twelve hours unless we do some fast work.”
“Is that why Lois went running out?”
Mason grinned. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Why didn’t you let me do it, Chief?”
“Do what?”
“Whatever had to be done.”
“I wanted to keep it all in the family.”
“You can’t trust her, as far as that boy is concerned. She’s simply crazy about him. If you let her in on anything that might hurt you, she’d betray you if she ever thought it would help him.”
“I know. But I had to rely on her because, in the first place, the dogs knew her, and in the second place, she knew her way around the ranch. You’d have got into trouble. I realize the risk of using her. It’s a big risk.”
“Where are we going now?”
Mason said, “We’ve got an errand to do in town. Then we’re going to overtake that midnight train. It hauls a sleeper up to the main line, and switches it off to wait for the through train to Los Angeles. I understand the car’s hooked up about three o’clock in the morning. That gives us less than an hour.”
“Did that blonde girl from the detective agency take the train?’
“Uh huh.”
“Anyone else?”
“Marvin Adams.”
“They’re on the train together?”
“Well, they’re both on the train.”
“Is that just a coincidence?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s the errand in town?”
“I want to see Alberta Cromwell. She has the apartment that adjoins Milter’s.”
“His common-law wife?”
“Widow.”
“Do you think she knows of the murder?”
“She must if she’s home.”
“Suppose she isn’t home?”
“That’s one of the things I want to find out.”
“Won’t the police still be in possession of Milter’s apartment?”
“Probably.”
“Will you take a chance on running into them?”
“No.”
“But won’t you have to, to find out if she’s home?”
Mason grinned. “There are two ways of finding out if a young lady isn’t home. One of them is to look in her home.”
“What’s the other?”
“To find her away from home.”
“Come on,” Della said. “Quit holding out. Where?”
Mason said, “There are also just two ways of leaving town, for a young woman who has no automobile. One is by the train. The other is by bus. The last train has gone. We’ll look in the bus station first.”
“Would you know her if you saw her?”
“I think so. In any event, I met a young woman who claims to occupy the apartment next to Milter and who gave her name as Cromwell.”
Della Street settled back in the seat. “Pumping you for information when you don’t want to loosen up is like trying to get water out of a dry well.”
Mason grinned. “I can’t very well give something I haven’t got.”
“No, but if you had, you wouldn’t. I’m going to snatch forty winks. I don’t suppose you want me to go into the Greyhound depot with you?”
“Definitely not.”
“Okay, just wake me up when you come out.”
She twisted her shoulders until she got her head in a comfortable position, and closed her eyes. Mason drove on at high speed until he reached the main street of El Templo. Then he slowed and drove to within half a block of the Greyhound bus depot. Apparently Della Street was still asleep as he slipped quietly out of the car, gently closed the door, and walked rapidly down the sidewalk.
There were four persons sitting on the wide benches, waiting for the three o’clock bus to Los Angeles. Alberta Cromwell was occupying an isolated corner, her elbow resting on the arm of the bench, her chin propped on the palm of her hand. She was staring with fixed, unseeing eyes at a rack of magazines in front of her.
As Mason sat down almost beside her, she turned her head just far enough to take in his feet and legs, then swung her eyes back toward the magazine rack.
Lurid covers, featuring various so-called authentic detective cases, were stacked in rows, one above the other. These covers for the most part showing well-curved young women engaged in a desperate struggle for life and, one would gather from the state of their clothing, for honor.
After several seconds had elapsed during which Alberta Cromwell remained motionless, Mason said calmly, “Rather depressing thinking about a murder against that background, isn’t it?”
She jerked her head around at the sound of his voice. As she recognized him, an involuntary nervous start betrayed her emotion, but after a moment, when she spoke, her voice was calm. “Are you, too, going to Los Angeles?” she asked.
Mason held his eyes steadily on her profile. “No.”
She turned once more to look at him then, and her eyes faltered. She turned quickly away.
Mason said, “Don’t you think it would be better to tell me about it?”
“There’s nothing to tell. About what?”
“Your reason for going to Los Angeles so suddenly.”
“I don’t think it’s sudden. I’ve been planning to go for some little time.”