They walked down the corridor to Drake’s office. The receptionist nodded and, putting her finger to her lips for silence, tiptoed down the corridor and opened a door.
Paul Drake was standing in a darkened room looking through a one-way mirror into a questioning room where Nancy Gilman was seated in front of a polygraph machine. A pressure cuff was around her arm, electrodes on her hand and a coil placed around her chest so as to register the rhythm of her breathing.
Paul Drake said in a hoarse whisper, “He’s made quite an impression on her already. He got her to select a number between one and ten and then not only told her what the number was but showed her her graph in order to show how her blood pressure indicated the number when he came to it. I think he now has her in the right frame of mind to go ahead with the test.”
Cartman Jasper adjusted the needles on the machine. They could hear his voice through the microphone-speaking device which relayed sounds from the other office.
“Now, Mrs. Gilman, I am going to ask you to answer all of the questions I ask, either yes or no. If it is necessary to make any explanation or to elaborate on your answer, wait until the test is completed. But just answer these questions as I ask them, yes or no. Do you understand?”
Nancy Gilman nodded.
“Please don’t move in any way during the brief period in which I am giving you this test. Sit perfectly relaxed and avoid any muscular movement. Try to think only about the questions and the answers to the questions. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“You are seated comfortably?”
“Yes.”
Jasper, in a toneless voice, said, “Is your first name Nancy?”
“Yes.”
There was an interval of some ten seconds, then Jasper gave the second question. “Are you the mother of a daughter named Glamis?”
“Yes.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married to Carter Gilman?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever know a person named Vera M. Martel?”
“No.”
“Did you have breakfast this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Has anyone tried to blackmail you during the past three months?”
“No.”
“Of your own knowledge, do you know who killed Vera M. Martel?”
“No.”
“Are you interested in photography?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know a person named Steven A. Barlow?”
“Yes.”
“Would you object if I should ask you an embarrassing personal question while the polygraph tested the truth of your answer?”
There was a moment of silence, then she said, “Yes.”
Cartman Jasper said, “Very well, Mrs. Gilman, we’ll rest for a few moments and then I am going to repeat the same questions again in exactly the same order.”
Mason, who had been looking at the mirror which showed the graph made by the three needles on the chart, said in a puzzled voice, “She’s telling the truth.”
“Unless she doesn’t react,” Della Street said.
“Of course she reacts,” Mason said. “Look at the reaction that took place when Jasper asked her that last test question. She’s a good reactor but...”
“What is it?” Della Street asked.
“When they asked her about her daughter, Glamis,” Mason said, “there was a distinct reaction. Of course, it may be just a matter of adjustment or something that caused an isolated reaction. However, you’ve got it in her pulse, her blood pressure, her respiration and her skin resistance. She’s a very good reactor and something happened there... Let’s see what happens again.”
Once more Jasper went through the questions. Once more there was a very definite reaction when he questioned her about Glamis.
Mason turned to Della Street, said, “He’ll run her through once more. We’d probably better go back to the office. She may want to come and see us when she’s finished, and it wouldn’t be advisable to have her know we were watching.”
Paul Drake followed them to the door. “Do you want to try to break her down, Perry? I think you’re wasting time. I think she’s telling the truth.”
“There’s something about Glamis that bothers her,” Mason said thoughtfully.
“Why shouldn’t there be? Glamis is an illegitimate child and I suppose that beneath Nancy Gilman’s somewhat casual exterior she keenly appreciates the position her indiscretion has put Glamis in.”
Mason nodded. “That probably accounts for it,” he said, “but there certainly was a very definite reaction there. We’ll see what Cartman Jasper says. Tell him to come down to my office after he’s finished, and unless Nancy Gilman wants to see me about something, let her go home. She was, I believe, in something of a hurry.”
Mason and Della Street went back to their office. Twenty minutes later Cartman Jasper came in with the graphs of the examination folded in his hand.
“What do you think?” Mason asked.
Jasper said, “She’s telling the truth all the way through, Mason, as far as the case is concerned. She never knew Vera Martel, she hasn’t been blackmailed, but she’s lying about Glamis Barlow.”
“You mean Glamis Barlow isn’t her daughter?” Mason asked.
“I don’t know,” Jasper said. “I’d have to make up a set of test questions about Glamis and ask her those in order to find out the truth. But there’s something in connection with Glamis that causes her to have an emotional reaction.”
“You knew that Glamis was illegitimate?” Mason asked.
“Paul Drake told me that, but I don’t think that accounts for it, Mason. I think there’s something else. There’s some emotional disturbance there in connection with the statement that she had a daughter named Glamis Barlow.”
Mason frowned thoughtfully. “Now, suppose Glamis isn’t her daughter,” he said.
“That could very well be,” Jasper admitted.
“Gosh, what an opportunity for a blackmailer that would be!” Mason said.
Chapter Fifteen
Mason, pacing his office, said to Paul Drake, “Hang it, Paul, there’s something wrong with this whole case. Somebody drew ten thousand dollars out of a bank and got an even amount — ten thousand dollars. It was to be used to pay blackmail. Don’t tell me anyone could do that without leaving a trace.”
“They did it,” Drake said, “and they didn’t leave a trace. I’ve exhausted every lead I can think of.”
Mason said, “I’m sitting on top of a volcano with ten thousand dollars in my safe. That ten thousand dollars is probably evidence. I’m going to have to do something about it. I don’t want to betray a client, but I can’t conceal evidence. I’m going to have to get in touch with the police and tell them that I found this money. If the police should find out I have the money before I reported it I would be in quite a fix. Every hour that I have that money, every minute that I have it without reporting it, I’m skating on thin ice.”
“Well, why don’t you report it, then?”
Mason shook his head. “I’m not going to sell a client down the river, Paul. I’m going to find out where that money came from before I make a move. Now, you’ve followed instructions and had your men working on Vera Martel’s activities for the week preceding her death?”
Drake nodded, said, “I’m spending a lot of money having men try to uncover every bit of information they can about her. No one knows much. She was working on several cases. She was away from her office for two days, but that was nearly ten days before she was murdered.”
“Where did she go?” Mason asked.
“Search me,” Drake said. “We haven’t been able to find out.”
“Find out,” Mason said. “There was an air travel card and a couple of gasoline credit cards in her purse. Get busy. Find out where the gasoline credit card was used. Start right now and see what you can find out about that air travel card.”