“Then tonight Mason came down here and accused me of having gone to see Rose Keeling. I told him I’d never seen her in my life. He walked over to the telephone and called police headquarters and told you that fairy story. I can’t figure it out.”
“You hadn’t told him you had seen Rose Keeling?”
She shook her head.
“You’re certain?”
She nodded.
Robert Caddo cleared his throat. “I was here all the time, Lieutenant. She certainly never said anything like that!”
“You were both together here?”
“That’s right. Mason rang the bell and got us up out of bed. He said he wanted to talk with us. We mixed a drink and Mason accused my wife of having gone to see Rose Keeling. She said she didn’t even know Rose Keeling. Then Mason went over and called you up.”
Tragg looked over to Mason.
The lawyer put down his drink, said, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”
“You got anything more to say than that?”
Mason shook his head.
“By God!” Tragg said. “One of these days, Mason, you’re going to step all over your tonsils. What the hell’s the idea rushing me down here on a bum steer like this? You’re mixed up in this thing up to your necktie, and you’re trying every way you can to get out. What’s this about her calling at your office and you smearing ink on your face?”
Mason said, “I’ve been guilty of underestimating Mrs. Caddo’s intelligence, Tragg.”
“And, by God, you’re underestimating mine!” Tragg said. “And for your personal information, we’ve now found some evidence that really connects your client with the murder. By ten o’clock in the morning I’ll have a warrant for her. If you hide her after that I’ll nail you as an accessory.”
“Who’s his client?” Mrs. Caddo asked.
“Marilyn Marlow,” Tragg said.
“That woman!” Mrs. Caddo exclaimed, and then added, “Did she kill this girl — what’s her name?”
“Rose Keeling. Yes, she killed her.”
“How do you know?” Mrs. Caddo asked.
Tragg grinned. “Among other things, we’ve found the murder weapon in her possession.”
“Well,” Dolores Caddo said, “you certainly shouldn’t want anything more than that!”
Mason said, “Before you go overboard on this thing, Lieutenant, I want to tell you what happened. Caddo wanted to get a lead on Marilyn Marlow, who was advertising in his magazine as a lonely heiress. At that time I think he was telling me the truth. He wanted to protect himself against a charge of false advertising. But once he found out who she was and had a look at her, he had an idea he might trade his wife in on a new model.”
“That’s a lie!” Caddo said.
“Naturally,” Mason went on, “he didn’t map out a plan of campaign all at once. He became convinced Marilyn was playing a game of some sort. He thought that he might be able to edge into the picture so that he could get a little money — and if he had to do it by some form of blackmail, he wasn’t going to be too squeamish. However, in the back of his mind was an idea that Dolores had given him about everything she had to offer, and it might be a good plan to shine up to Marilyn Marlow, feeling that he just might be able to hit the jackpot.”
“What was the jackpot?” Tragg asked.
“Reno,” Mason said. “Trading Dolores in on a more streamlined model with more money.”
“That’s a lie, my love,” Caddo said. “Don’t listen to him. He’s simply trying to make trouble.”
Dolores threw back her head and laughed. “How well I know it! He thinks I’m jealous. Well, Robert, darling, I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. You love me, and I know you love me.”
“Thank you, darling.”
“In the first place,” Dolores went on, “you couldn’t have got to first base with this heiress, and in the second place if you had, I’d have beaten your damn brains out before you could have stolen second base.”
“Yes, my love.”
“You know better than to try to two-time me. You might let your foot slip once in a while, but you wouldn’t really try to walk out on me.”
“No, my love.”
“You know what would happen if you did.”
“Yes, my love.”
Dolores smiled at Lieutenant Tragg and said, “Can’t you do some thing to keep this lawyer from trying to break up a perfectly happy marriage?”
Mason picked up his hat. “My congratulations, Mrs. Caddo. I hope you haven’t played all your trumps.”
“I haven’t,” she said sweetly. “Do stick around and have a drink with us, Lieutenant. My husband has some excellent Scotch in the kitchen. This prune juice is just some imitation stuff we dug out for this lawyer.”
“I’ll let you out,” Caddo said to Mason.
“Don’t bother,” Mason told him. “I’ve found my way out of worse places than this, Caddo. Good night!”
Chapter 16
Mason stopped at an all-night restaurant, dialed Della Street’s apartment.
“Hello, Della. Gone to bed yet?”
“No. I’ve only been here a few minutes. What’s happened?”
Mason said, “I ran into something.”
“At Caddo’s?”
“Yes.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
“I think I do. How tired are you?”
“Not at all. I’ll wait.”
“I’ll be right out,” Mason promised.
He jumped into his car, made time through the night streets to Della’s apartment.
She had left the door slightly ajar so he could enter without knocking.
“Hello,” she said. “What do you want, Scotch and soda or coffee? I have them both.”
“Coffee,” Mason said. “I just had a drink.”
She poured him a big cup of coffee, added cream and sugar, brought out crackers and a plate of assorted tea biscuits.
Mason seated himself at the table, sipped the coffee gratefully, munched on tea biscuits, and said nothing.
She sat quietly across the table from him, refilling his coffee cup when it was half empty, waiting for him to think his way through the situation which confronted him.
At length Mason pushed the plate of tea biscuits away from him and took out his cigarette case. He held a pocket lighter for their cigarettes, then settled back in the chair and said, “I went to Caddo’s place. Caddo was a very much subdued individual. His wife admitted she’d been out to take Rose Keeling apart. She arrived about eleven-thirty, she says. That’s apparently approximate. She made a scene, tore Rose Keeling’s sunsuit, threw some fountain pen ink just as Rose Keeling made a dash for the bathroom to keep from being spanked. Rose slammed the bathroom door and locked it. Mrs. Caddo went out.”
“Chief!” Della Street exclaimed, her eyes big. “That accounts for it. That takes Marilyn Marlow off the spot.”
“Wait a minute,” Mason said. “Get the rest of it. I called Lieutenant Tragg. He came out there in a rush. I told him my story. Mrs. Caddo was just as sweet as honey on hot cakes. She told Tragg she’d never said any such thing. Caddo blinked, and backed her play. He said he’d been present during every minute of the conversation. He said nothing like that had been said; he thought perhaps I was trying to work some clumsy, amateurish third-degree on his wife.”
“What did Tragg do?”
“When I left they were buying Tragg a drink. Everybody was chummy and hotsy-totsy.”
“Can Tragg be that dumb?”
“It’s not that he’s so dumb. He’s completely hypnotized with the idea that Marilyn Marlow is the one he’s after. He can’t see any angle that doesn’t make Marilyn it. He’s found some new evidence. He says he’s found the murder weapon in Marilyn’s possession.”