“Such as murder?” Mason asked.
“Such as murder,” Henrietta Hull said, and then after a moment added, “and such as kidnapping or abduction.”
Chapter Seven
Mason fitted his latchkey to the door of his private office, entered and was confronted by Della Street, who said, “Why secretaries get grey... Do you realize, Mr. Perry Mason, that you have two appointments I’ve had to stall off and if it hadn’t been for the noon hour intervening you’d have had more. I told them that you were out at a luncheon club making a speech.”
“You’re getting to be a pretty good extemporaneous prevaricator,” Mason said.
She smiled. “Freely translated that means I’m a graceful, gifted, talented offhand liar... You see what you’ve done to my morals, Mr. Perry Mason.”
“The constant dripping of water,” Mason said, “can wear away the toughest stone.”
“We were talking about morals, I believe. I suppose there was some major emergency.”
“There was a very great major emergency.”
“Have you had lunch?”
“No.”
“You have some appointments that I’ve been stalling off. I told them you’d see them right after lunch and then told them that you were delayed getting back from lunch.”
“They’re in the outer office?”
“Yes.”
“What else?” Mason asked.
“I believe you are acquainted with a very firm and dignified young woman named Henrietta Hull who is the secretary to Minerva Minden?”
“She isn’t young,” Mason said. “She has a sense of humour. She puts up a good front of being firm. What about her?”
“She called up, said that she was to leave a message for you, that she was sorry that there was no possibility of your seeing Miss Minden; that you might care to know, however, that Dorrie Ambler had been followed by a detective agency employed by Miss Minden ever since Miss Ambler had attempted to blackmail Miss Minden into making a property settlement on her.”
“What else?” Mason asked.
“That was all,” she said. “She told me that perhaps you should have that information.”
“I’ll be damned,” Mason said.
“And,” Della Street went on, “Jerry Nelson, Drake’s operative, said he missed you at the place he was told to report. He said Drake was out so he came down here to tell me that there’s a difference in coloring between Dorrie Ambler and Minerva Minden but aside from that the resemblance is startling. He said it might be very easy for an eyewitness to confuse one with the other.”
“But there was a discernible difference?”
“Oh, yes. He felt he could tell one from the other.”
“By what means? Just what is the difference?”
“Well, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He said that it’s something— He thinks the hair may be a little different and something about the complexion, but he says there’s a resemblance that— Well, the only way that he could describe it was to say it was startling.”
Mason’s unlisted phone rang.
“That’s Paul Drake,” Mason said, and picked up the receiver.
Paul Drake’s voice came over the line. “I’m sorry to bring you bad news, Perry.”
“What?”
“We were followed out to Minerva Minden’s.”
“How do you know?”
“I found out when I was parking the car.”
“How do you mean?”
“They have a plug they can slip on the end of the exhaust pipe. It releases drops of fluorescent liquid at regular intervals. By wearing a certain type of spectacles with lenses that are tinted so it can make these drops visible, they can follow a car even if they’re ten or fifteen minutes behind it.”
“And you know your car was fixed?”
“It was fixed all right.”
“But you don’t know that they followed us.”
“I don’t know they followed us,” Drake said, “but knowing Tragg as I do, I know he wasn’t wasting the taxpayers’ equipment just for the sake of the exercise.”
“Thanks, Paul,” Mason said. “I have an office full of irate clients and I’ve got to get down to a little routine work, but you get busy and see what you can find out.”
“We’re already busy,” Drake said. “I’ve got tentacles stretching out in every direction, trying to cover everything I can.”
“What about the kidnapping, Paul?”
“I don’t know. The police are playing it awfully close to their chest. Of course, under the circumstances you can realize that they wouldn’t take us into their confidence, and it’s probably good business not to tell the newspapers too much about it, but they’re certainly playing it cozy.”
“All right,” Mason said, “you get busy, Paul, and find out everything you can. Try particularly to find out something about the background of Dorrie Ambler.”
“You don’t think you should tell the police what you know?”
“I’m hanged if I know, Paul,” Mason said. “I think probably I will, but I want to think it over a bit. I’ll get rid of a few pressing appointments and then be in touch with you.”
“Okay,” Drake said, “I’ll be on the job.”
Mason said to Della Street, “I guess I’ll copy Paul Drake’s diet, Della. Get me a couple of sandwiches from the restaurant around the corner and put some coffee on. I’ll start seeing these clients who have been waiting.”
“Don’t you want to wait and eat afterwards?” Della Street asked.
“Frankly I do,” Mason said, “but some of those clients are a little angry. They feel they’ve been cooling their heels in my outer office while I’ve been out to lunch, enjoying myself.
“The psychological effect of having a hamburger sandwich in one hand and a law book in the other is remarkably soothing to the irate client. I’ll tell them I had such an important matter come up I had to break my luncheon engagement.”
“In other words,” Della Street said, “these sandwiches are to be props.”
“Props with a use,” Mason said. “Send in the first client, Della, and go get the sandwiches as soon as he comes in.”
She glided out into the outer office and a moment later Mason’s first client came stalking into the room.
Mason said, “I’m sorry I had to keep you waiting. I was out on a major emergency. I’m going to impose on your good nature by grabbing a sandwich while we talk. I’m famished.
“Della, hand me that file with the memorandum on this case and get a couple of hamburgers, if you will.”
“Right away,” Della Street promised, handing him the filing jacket.
As Mason opened the folder the expression on the client’s face softened.
Mason hurried through that interview and four more, nibbling at sandwiches and drinking coffee.
He was interviewing his last client when the telephone rang three short bells signaling that the switchboard operator was holding an important call.
Della Street picked up the telephone, said, “Yes, Gertie,” then turned to Mason. “Lieutenant Tragg,” she said.
“In the office?” Mason asked.
“No, on the line.”
Mason picked up the telephone, said, “Yes, Lieutenant, this is Mason.”
Tragg said, “I’ve given you some breaks today, Mason. I’m going to give you some more.”
“Yes,” Mason said dryly. “I hope the substance you put on the exhaust of my automobile doesn’t interfere with the operating efficiency.”
“Oh, not at all, not at all,” Tragg said.
“I presume my car was followed,” Mason observed.
“Oh, of course,” Tragg said casually. “You wouldn’t expect us to have you right in our hands, so to speak, and then let you slip through our fingers. We know all about your trip out to Miss Minden’s at Montrose.”