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Mason walked over to the barbed-wire fence, a quizzical smile on his face. He planted his feet far apart, pushed his hands down into his coat pockets and surveyed the spectacle.

Abruptly one of the young women, a vivacious redhead with dancing blue eyes, saw Perry Mason, stopped in her tracks, did a quick double take, then came over to the barbed-wire fence. “Well, what do you know?” she said. “Aren’t you Perry Mason, the lawyer?”

Mason nodded.

“Well, for heaven sakes, fancy seeing you here! What in the world are you doing here?”

“Right at the moment,” Mason said, “I’m advising a client. Now may I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Just finishing my second cocktail and thinking about a third,” the young woman said. “Only I’m giving the matter the benefit of mature consideration because I have trouble retracting my landing gear when I get loaded.”

“And may I ask what’s the occasion for all this?” Mason asked.

“Heavens, I don’t know,” she said. “Vivian told us to put on skin-tight dresses and abbreviated lingerie we could show to advantage.

“It seems somebody connected with her ex-husband lives in the other part of the house. We’re supposed to report any passes that he might make.”

“So far, no passes?” Mason asked.

She laughed. “The evening’s young yet. He—”

“Helene, what are you doing?” a woman asked, striding over to the fence.

The redhead giggled. “Talking with Perry Mason,” she said.

“I told you not to make any leads.”

“Oh, go roll a hoop,” the young woman said. “Your caution was related to the guy who’s tied up with your ex-husband. This is Perry Mason, the lawyer. Don’t you know him? Good heavens, I’ve been a fan of his forever. Fancy actually meeting you, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said to the other woman, “I presume you’re Vivian Carson.”

She studied him thoughtfully and said, “That’s right. May I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Making a survey of the situation.”

“All right,” Mrs. Carson said, “Helene has spoiled the act. I...”

“You were setting a trap?” Mason asked, as she hesitated.

Abruptly her eyes softened. “Frankly, Mr. Mason,” she said, “I... Well, I don’t think I’m going to make any admissions.”

“I was just trying to get oriented,” Mason said. “I wouldn’t try to discuss things with you in the absence of your attorney.”

She said, “I’m representing myself. I suppose that means I have a fool for a client, but my attorney didn’t approve of the things I had in mind.”

“Were they that bad?” Mason asked.

“They were worse... Now I see your client inching his way over here, hoping to get into the conversation. I’d advise you to keep him out of it.”

“Why?” Mason asked. “You’ve already broken the ice giving him coffee — remember?”

“Of course I remember, and for your personal, private and confidential information, Mr. Mason, that was a part of my act. Even the most hardy soul can’t withstand the aroma of coffee in the morning.

“Under the law, as I understand it, the initiative is mine. When I want to talk with your client, I’ll talk. But he can’t take the initiative and talk with me or with my guests.

“The minute he does anything other than leer, I’m going to nail him for contempt of court.”

“Do you hate him that much?”

“I hate my husband that much, and that’s the only way I can get even with him and get the sort of action I want.”

Morley Eden, approaching Mason, said, “Pardon me, Perry, but I—”

“Just a minute,” Mason said, motioning him to silence.

“I thought,” Eden insisted, “that since you apparently were getting acquainted I might at least talk to you.”

Mason, his eyes twinkling, said, “Oh, it’s quite all right to talk to me. This is your house on your property and you can talk to anyone on your side of the fence.”

Eden said, “You might advise the young woman that while the legal difficulties are being adjusted I’d like to live in harmony.”

Mason turned to Mrs. Carson and said, “Mrs. Carson, my client wishes me to assure you that he has no hard feelings.”

“You might also explain to her,” Eden said, “that the pleasure which is afforded a lonely man of seeing a young woman with Mrs. Carson’s grace disporting herself around the swimming pool more than compensates for the inconvenience of the barbed-wire fence through my living room. You might also tell her that any time she would like to dive under the barbed wire and use the springboard at my end of the pool I’d be only too glad to have her.”

Vivian Carson looked him over with appraising eyes, abruptly turned to Perry Mason and said, “I think you’d better advise your client, Mr. Mason, that any attempt to fraternize with the enemy will be regarded as a contempt of court.”

“Please tell her,” Eden said hastily, “that I don’t regard her as an enemy and I don’t want to regard her as an enemy. I can appreciate what she’s trying to do and I can appreciate something of the injustice that has been done her.”

Vivian Carson started to turn away, then whirled with an impulsive gesture graceful as that of a dancer. She extended her hand through the barbed wire and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Eden. You’re a good sort. I’ve been trying to make things as difficult for you as possible and you’ve been nice about it.”

Eden took her hand, said, “Thank you, Mrs. Carson. I take it it’s all right to shake hands as long as it’s your hand that’s on my side of the fence.”

“Exactly,” Vivian said, smiling, “and now, having acted on impulse, I’ve ruined a good part of my scheme. But I’m warning you, Morley Eden, I’m going to get back at my husband for the things he’s done, and, as it happens, you’re in the line of fire.”

“I take it,” Mason said, “this little exchange of pleasantries is not going to be reported to the court.”

“What’s the use?” she said. “I led with my chin. I was the one who broke the ice. You do have awfully nice clients, Mr. Mason; but this fence is going to stay up, and I trust that in the course of time Mr. Eden will be so inconvenienced by the things that go on here he will take drastic action.”

“With wire cutters?” Mason asked.

“I don’t care what sort of action he takes. Whatever he does is going to be a violation of the restraining order, and once this temporary truce is over, Mr. Eden, I warn you that making any passes at my friends on this side of the fence is going to be considered a violation of the court’s order.”

“It’s an embarrassing situation,” Eden said. “I know now something of the tortures of Tantalus.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” she said. “Wait until... Well, just wait.”

“I’ll live through it,” Eden promised.

“My client,” Mason said gravely, “has plans to install an electric organ. He’ll play a lot at night.”

“Oh, that will be just dandy!” Vivian Carson said, her eyes sparkling, “because I’ve arranged to take cornet lessons and my teacher plays in an orchestra. He told me he could only come at unconventional times, and I told him I was certain that would be all right.”

“I think,” Eden said, wincing, “it might be a good plan if we dispensed with the music, Mrs. Carson, and just went at it hammer and tongs.”

“Hammer and tongs it is,” she said, giving him her hand once more. “Come on, Helene.”

Helene pushed her hand through the barbed wire. “I’m being paged, Mr. Mason. But it certainly was nice to see you.”