“She — she said she had something she wanted to confess.”
“When did she telephone you?” Mason asked.
“About an hour ago. Perhaps not quite that long.”
“What did she say?”
“Told me to come to the front door, walk in, switch on the lights, and wait for her in case she wasn’t here.”
“Did she say where she was, or what she was doing?”
“She was keeping an eye on someone. I didn’t get all there was to it. She didn’t talk with me herself.”
“She didn’t?”
“No... Let’s get out of here. I can’t talk here. I can’t...”
“Wait a minute,” Mason said. “Do you know this person?”
“Why, yes, of course.”
“Who is it?”
“Mrs. Perlin, Hocksley’s housekeeper.”
“Did she live here?”
“No. She lived in the flat with Mr. Hocksley. I don’t know how she happened to come here.”
“Had you seen her at all today?”
“I’m not going to be questioned about this.”
Mason said. “That’s what you think. You’re going to be questioned about this until your eardrums get calloused. Who telephoned you?”
“I don’t know. It was a woman with a nice voice, who said Sarah had given her a message to pass on to me, that I was to leave my car about half a block beyond the house up the hill. I was to walk back to this house and come right in. In case Sarah wasn’t here, I was to switch on the lights and make myself at home. She said Sarah would be here within a very few minutes of the time I arrived. She said Sarah was keeping a watch on someone who might be trying to double-cross her, and she couldn’t break away long enough to talk with me herself.”
“Did you think it might be some sort of a trap?”
“Not then.”
“Did the one who spoke to you say anything about not telephoning the police?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think of this as being a trap of some sort to get you? In other words, didn’t you feel somewhat diffident about coming out into a residential neighborhood and simply walking into a strange house at two o’clock in the morning, switching on the lights, and making yourself at home?”
“I tell you, I didn’t at the time. I did later.”
“How much later?”
“When I got near the house and began to think over the things I was supposed to do. This woman told me the front door would be unlocked. I decided that I’d see if the front door actually was open. If it was, I’d go in. Otherwise, I wasn’t even going to try to ring the bell or do anything about it.”
“So you tried the front door and it was open.”
“Yes. I came in. No one seemed to be home. I thought I’d find the bathroom...”
“What did Mrs. Perlin want to confess?”
“She didn’t say. That is, the one who was talking with me didn’t have anything to say about that. She simply said that Sarah had told her to tell me she wanted to make a confession, and ask my forgiveness.”
“Ask your forgiveness!”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know who this person was?”
“No. She said she was simply passing on the message, that Sarah was busy, and...”
“Yes. You’ve gone over all that, but did this person give you any idea of who she was?”
“No. Somehow, I got the impression she was a waitress in some restaurant where Sarah had established headquarters. You know, where Sarah could stand by the door to wait and watch. She said Sarah was over at the window, watching to see if a man to whom she’d telephoned was double-crossing her.”
“You have your own car?”
“Yes. That is, it isn’t mine. It’s a car I can borrow when I need one.”
“And you parked it a half a block beyond the house up the hill?”
“Yes.”
“She distinctly told you a half block beyond the house, and up the hill, did she?”
“That’s right.”
Mason said, “That shot was instantly fatal. She’s dead. There isn’t the faintest trace of pulse. You can tell from the location of the wound and the direction of the bullet that death was virtually instantaneous. Now then, why should she have committed suicide?”
“I tell you I don’t know.”
“And why can’t you tell your story to the police?”
“Because — because I’m afraid I’m in an awful jam, Mr. Mason. Sarah was the only one who could have vouched for me in case — well, in case the police turn up certain things.”
“And you want me to suppress all of this,” and Mason included the room and the body with a sweeping gesture of his hands, “simply in order to save you from being questioned by the police?”
“It isn’t going to hurt anything if you do this for me,” she said. “There’s nothing you can do to help solve this.”
Mason studied her thoughtfully. Abruptly, he asked, “This Mrs. Perlin, was she a woman who had had much experience as a housekeeper, or had she perhaps had money at one time, run into hard luck, and had to get work as a housekeeper...?”
“No. She’d been a housekeeper for years. I remember checking on her agency card when Mr. Hocksley hired her.”
Mason strolled down the corridor toward the dining room. His hands were pushed down in his pockets, his head thrust forward. She followed him, apprehensive, silently pleading. Abruptly, Mason whirled to face her. “You know what you’re asking?” he demanded.
She said nothing as he paused, her eyes pleading eloquently, her lips motionless.
“You’re asking me to square a murder,” Mason said, “to get my neck in a noose, and you’re doing it as casually as though you were wanting to know if I wouldn’t buy you an ice cream, or sign my name in your autograph album.”
She kept looking at him, pleading with her eyes. Her hand came out to touch his arm.
Mason said, “Once I walk out of this house without calling the police, I’ve put myself in the middle of a great big spot. I’ve given you a stranglehold on me. How deeply are you mixed in this business?”
She shook her head.
“Come on. Speak up.”
“I’m not in it at all.”
Mason said, “That’s what you think. You called the police yesterday morning, didn’t you?”
“Do we have to talk here?”
“We have to do some talking here.”
“It’s dangerous just being here.”
“It’s dangerous just walking away.”
“I came to work yesterday. No one was in the house. Usually Mrs. Perlin is there, and nearly always there are some records for me.”
“Records?” Mason asked.
“You know, the wax records that have been dictated on a dictating machine.”
“Oh.”
“This morning there weren’t any records. Mrs. Perlin wasn’t there.”
“How about Hocksley?”
“I very seldom see him. He sleeps most of the day. He works rather late at night.”
“But you have seen him?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Go ahead.”
“I couldn’t understand there not being any work laid out for me or any message. Then I started looking around, and I saw the door to Mr. Hocksley’s room was open. Then I saw spots of blood. I went in and saw the safe with a great pool of blood in front of it, and then I went out to the garage where we keep the car.”
“That’s in the house next door?”
“Yes. The Gentries rent Mr. Hocksley a garage.”
“And the car was there?”
“Yes; but there were bloodstains in it, all over the back seat. Really, Mr. Mason, that’s all I know. Then I called the police.”
“Why not call them now?”
“I can’t explain my being here. I can’t explain — lots of things.”