“What were you doing?” Mason asked.
“As a matter of fact,” Elliott said, “I remember very plainly I was just buckling the belt on my trousers. I had just finished putting them on and was getting ready to shave.”
“And what happened?” Mason asked.
Elliott said, “I don’t know whether it means anything, but the door of the workshop opened and Glamis came running out of the workshop. Then, after she’d taken a couple of running steps, she caught herself, stopped, turned back, pulled the door shut and then ran for all she was worth around the house.”
“Around the house?” Mason asked.
“Well, I couldn’t see her all the way around the house, but I could see her running toward the side of the building— What I mean is, she didn’t come down the driveway and she didn’t go in the door to the screen porch which leads into the kitchen.”
“All right,” Mason said, “go on. What happened after that?”
“Now, let’s get this straight,” Elliott said. “I’m telling you this in strict confidence. I’m assuming that you’re not going to do anything that would hurt Glamis.”
“I’m trying to get at the truth at the moment,” Mason said.
“You’re representing Carter Gilman?”
“That’s right.”
“And you wouldn’t sell out Glamis in order to—?”
“For heaven’s sake!” Mason interrupted. “Be your age! You’re sitting here swapping words when the police are probably even now headed toward this apartment. Once you get in the clutches of the police you’ll talk and you’ll spill everything you know.”
“No, I won’t,” Elliott said. “They can’t make me talk if I don’t want to.”
Mason’s look was scornful. “They’ll have you in front of a grand jury and they’ll have you under oath. You’ll tell your story, my friend, and you’ll tell it right. If you lie, you’ll go to prison for perjury, and if you don’t lie, they’ll have it out of you down to every last detail. Now tell me the rest of it.”
Elliott said, “There was something about the way she acted, something... I just can’t describe it, Mr. Mason.”
“All right,” Mason said. “You gathered the impression that something was going on, is that right?”
“Very much so. I thought she... she seemed to be terribly frightened.”
“Go on,” Mason said.
“Well, I had been trying to keep rather quiet, then I realized that she was up and presumed it would be all right to come down for breakfast, so I went into the bathroom and started shaving.”
“Electric razor?”
“No, I used a safety razor and a ready-mix shaving cream.”
“Go on,” Mason said.
“Then I heard a peculiar creaking of boards up in the attic. That’s rather an old-fashioned house and—”
“Never mind describing the house,” Mason said, glancing impatiently at his wristwatch. “Tell me what happened. I’ve been in the house.”
“Well, I heard this peculiar creaking of boards and then the next thing I heard was the sound of voices in the corridor.”
“So what did you do?”
“I had lather all over my face,” Elliott said, “and I wasn’t very presentable. But I heard Glamis’ voice and so I opened the door a crack. I was going to ask her, ‘What about breakfast?’ ”
“And what did you see?”
“I saw Muriell standing by the open door on the attic steps and Glamis was there and... well, Glamis wasn’t in what you would call a presentable condition.”
“How was she dressed?” Mason asked.
“Well, she had on... I guess they were night things.”
“Don’t be so damned reticent,” the lawyer snapped. “How was she dressed?”
“Well, she had on a filmy something on top that you could see right through and it only came down just below her hips, and... I don’t know, I guess there were panties, but... well, I felt like a Peeping Tom standing there with the door open just a crack, and I didn’t know what the devil to do.”
“Was she facing you or away from you?”
“She was turned so she was about three quarters facing me but she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking at Muriell and she seemed angry and I heard her say something about the attic and Muriell said something about her father and I gently closed the door and certainly hoped they hadn’t seen me.”
“Then what?” Mason asked.
“Well, I... frankly, I was terribly embarrassed, Mr. Mason.”
“Don’t be prudish,” Mason said. “You’d been out with Glamis — you’d seen her in a bathing suit?”
“Certainly.”
“This costume was more revealing than a bathing suit?”
“Much more. I... well, it was the idea of the thing, as though I’d been peeking.”
“All right, what did you do?” Mason asked.
“I didn’t know what to do. I finished shaving and sat around there, waiting. The aroma of coffee wasn’t quite so strong and... well, I sat there and waited awhile for Glamis to call me.”
“And then what?”
“Then... oh, I guess it was an hour when Glamis came and tapped on my door.”
“She was fully dressed then?”
“No, she had on some sort of negligee. She was... well, she was presentable.”
“And what happened?”
“She asked me how I’d slept and chided me for being up and fully dressed and wanted to know why I hadn’t gone down and got some coffee and... well, we went downstairs and got some coffee and she said she’d already telephoned a service station a couple of blocks down the street and they’d promised to check my battery.”
“Did you stay for breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Who cooked it?”
“Glamis. Why?”
“Where was Muriell?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see her.”
“Where was Nancy?”
“Asleep, I guess.”
“What did you have for breakfast?”
“Some sausage and some fried eggs.”
“How long did you stay there?”
“Not very long. The man from the service station came to the door and said he had put a temporary battery in the car and it was all ready to go, that they were putting my battery on a charging unit and I could have it any time that afternoon.”
“So what did you do?”
“Thanked Glamis and said I was afraid I’d been a lot of nuisance and drove away.”
“You went back and picked up your battery?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Late yesterday afternoon.”
“That was within two blocks of the house,” Mason said. “Did you go down to see Glamis?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I had some things I had to do and — well, I didn’t have a date with Glamis. I’d had a date with her the night before.”
“You date her rather regularly?”
“If it’s any of your business, yes.”
“How was the farewell when you left her at the Vauxman house? Cordial?”
“Cordial.”
“You kissed her?”
“Dammit, of course I kissed her!” Elliott said. “Hell, I’d been out with her half the night and I spent the rest of the night there in the house and Glamis is a sweet kid and I kissed her, and we’d been necking on the front porch before that, if it’s any of your damn business, and I don’t think it is.”
Mason said, “It happens that it’s very much my business. Your story is going to be scrutinized very carefully, and if that story is true there’s a pretty damn good chance the police will decide Vera Martel was blackmailing either Glamis or her mother, that Glamis met her out in the workshop in order to pay her some blackmail money, that there was a dispute, that Glamis choked her to death and ran into the house, that Carter Gilman saw Glamis running out of the workshop, went into the workshop, found Vera Martel’s body, knew what had happened, stuffed the body into the trunk of his car and drove the body out to where it was disposed of, that either Gilman or a confederate then got Vera Martel’s car, which was parked near the house, and drove it off the cliff.