“Not a darn thing in it,” Tragg said.
Vivian Carson, standing behind them looking down into the dark interior, asked, “What in the world is all this?”
Tragg looked up. “Suppose you tell us, Mrs. Carson.”
She shook her head. “It’s all news to me.”
Tragg’s brows knitted thoughtfully.
“Carson built this house, Mason?” he asked.
“That’s my understanding.”
“And the swimming pool?”
“The whole house, swimming pool, patio and everything.”
Vivian Carson said, “So that’s it! That’s where he was concealing his money.”
“What money?” Tragg asked.
“He jockeyed things around so that it was impossible to get any kind of a property accounting out of him,” she said breathlessly. “Judge Goodwin knew that my ex-husband had been concealing assets and he was trying to force him to disclose them. He examined him at great length about whether he had any savings accounts, any safety deposit boxes, anything that... That’s what he was doing when he constructed this house; he made this secret safe and he put cash and securities in here.”
Tragg looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions just because there’s an empty hole here.”
“All right,” she said crisply, “what are your conclusions, Lieutenant?”
Tragg grinned. “I collect evidence. We arrive at conclusions after we get the evidence. If we jumped to conclusions and then tried to get the evidence to support those conclusions, we’d be in trouble all the time.”
Mason said, “I think Mrs. Carson is making a perfectly obvious inference, Lieutenant.”
“I suppose so,” Tragg said, “but I always get suspicious of people who jump to too many conclusions too fast, even if they are logical. Is this the first time you ever saw this receptacle here, Mrs. Carson?”
“Yes.”
“First time you ever saw this tile hinged back?”
“Yes, I tell you. I never knew anything about it. How does it work? Is it from someplace in the swimming pool?”
“It’s worked from a place in the swimming pool,” Tragg said.
Tragg went back again and inspected the step in the swimming pool. “Well, Mason,” he said, “I guess that does it. We’ve solved the mystery of the wet shirt sleeves. If Carson was high-grading his income and kept things concealed from his wife, and probably from the income-tax people, this could have been his hiding place. Back of that cement step is a ring on a wire cable. By pulling it about two inches you actuate a lever and a spring raises this tile — and, of course, that furnishes a good motive for his murder.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by that,” Vivian said.
“It’s very simple,” Tragg explained. “Loring Carson may have had a lot of money here — a great deal more than was found on his body His wet shirt sleeves indicate he may have hurriedly opened the place of concealment and removed this large sum of money. Someone who wanted that money stabbed him and took the loot. It’s that simple.”
Mason said, “Who’s jumping to conclusions now, Tragg?”
“I am,” Tragg said. “I’m doing it because I wanted to see Mrs. Carson’s reactions.”
“All right,” Vivian Carson said, “you can see my reactions right now. All you want.
“I’m trying to be fair, and I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I’m not going to pretend a whole lot of grief that I don’t feel. Loring Carson was a louse, a heel, but he was a human being and we had been married, which means, of course, that we had been very close. I’m sorry he’s dead, but if property rights are involved I want to be protected. Anything that was in that place of concealment was really my property.”
“How do you figure that out?” Tragg asked, looking up at her thoughtfully.
“Because Judge Goodwin wanted to award me more property. He felt certain that a substantial part of the community property had been concealed. Mr. Mason can tell you that. It’s no secret. The judge said so in open court.”
“Feeling that way,” Lieutenant Tragg said, “if you had found out about this receptacle, you would have taken possession of any property that was in it?”
“Now just a minute,” Mason said, “that’s hardly a fair question. If she didn’t know about the receptacle, she—”
“It’s my question and it’s a fair question,” Tragg said. “It’s a police question. Now I’m asking you, Mrs. Carson, if you had known about the receptacle, would you have taken anything that was in it?”
She met his eyes and said, “I’m not going to lie and I’m not going to be a hypocrite. I think I would have.”
“Well,” Tragg said, “at least you’re frank and truthful. Under the circumstances, Mrs. Carson, I am afraid you’re going to have to go with me to answer some more questions, and I’ll be equally frank with you; we’re going to get a search warrant for this house and we’re going through it piece by piece. We’re going to try to find what was in that receptacle.”
“You mean I’m to consider myself under arrest?”
“Certainly not,” Tragg said. “You can consider yourself as a young woman who is anxious to cooperate with the police in every way possible, who is only too glad to come downtown with me so you can answer questions and clear yourself of any possible suspicion... And, Mr. Mason, I’m going to ask the same thing of your client. I’m going to ask him to get in the car and go with us, and I may as well tell you, Counselor, that I’m going to ask you to leave the place at once. I’m going to get everybody out of here. I’m going to seal it up and then we’re coming out here and we’re going to search every nook and cranny.”
“Go right ahead,” Mason said irritably. “That’s typical police psychology. You lock the door after the horse has been stolen.
“Loring Carson didn’t walk out here. He came out here in a car. He probably drove his own car. Whoever came out here with him, took his car and drove away leaving him here. That means that in all human probability, Carson was dead when that other person left the house and—”
“I know, I know, I know,” Tragg interrupted. “You’re like all of these good citizens who want to tell the police how to run their business. For your information, Mr. Mason, very shortly after my arrival and as soon as I positively identified the corpse, I had the police put out an all-points bulletin for his car. We’ll pick it up no matter where it is. We have the description of the make and model of the car and the license number.
“For your further information, we’re watching the airport and making a check on the thruways. Whoever drives Loring Carson’s car anywhere is going to be stopped, is going to have to answer questions, and is, in all probability, going to be the number-one suspect.
“In the meantime, much as I value your suggestions, Counselor, I think the police can investigate this case without you. In view of this discovery, which changes the whole complexion of the case, I am now escorting you to the door. You’re getting out and you’re going to stay out. Mrs. Carson here and Morley Eden are going to ride downtown in my car; you have your own car here. I know you have a number of very pressing matters to which you must give your attention, and I am not going to detain you any longer... We’re starting now — and I don’t want anyone to touch that tile. I’m going to have the fingerprint men go to work on it — so just keep away from it, if you will.
“We’re going now. I’ll leave instructions with my men as we go out.”
Chapter 9
Mason Fitted his latchkey to the spring lock on the corridor door marked “PERRY MASON — PRIVATE,” entered his office and encountered Della Street’s startled eyes.