Della Street nodded.
“Now of course,” Mason said, “that may not have been the real reason. The real reason may have been that she wanted to publicize her resemblance to Minerva Minden and then let the newspaper reporters get the bright idea they were related and have her case all built up in the newspapers.”
“And that would have helped her case in court?” Della asked.
“Not only would it have been of help to her case in court,” Mason said, “but it would put her in a prime position to make a compromise with Minerva Minden.”
Della Street nodded.
“But,” Mason said, “thanks to the quick thinking on the part of Minerva Minden, the scheme for newspaper publicity in connection with the airport episode fizzled out. So, under those circumstances, what would an alert young woman do?”
“Try to think of some other scheme for getting her name in the papers,” Della Street said.
Mason tapped the paper on the desk with the back of his hand.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” Della Street said. “You think she arranged the whole business? The abduction, the—”
“There are certainly some things that indicate it,” Mason said. “I keep hoping that’s the solution. It would have been difficult if not impossible for a man or two men to have taken an unwilling woman out of that apartment house. The police were on the scene within a matter of minutes. The way the elevator was placed they didn’t dare use the elevator. They would have had to use the stairs. Unless they had another apartment, they could hardly have taken her from the building.”
Della’s eyes were sympathetic. “You keep trying to convince yourself it was all part of a scheme,” she said, “and I find myself trying to help you — even when I don’t believe it.”
Mason said, “It’s quite a problem getting a woman to leave the house against her will.”
“They could have held a gun on her, or a knife at her back,” Della Street said.
“They could have,” Mason said, “but remember that just about the time they reached the street the police cars were converging on the place.”
“Would they have noticed her at that stage of the game?” Della Street asked.
“You’re darned right they would,” Mason said. “They are trained in that sort of thing. You’d be astounded to see what these officers can pick out of thin air. They’ve trained themselves to be alert. They have a sixth sense. They notice anything that is just a little bit out of the ordinary. At times it seems they’re telepathic.
“If three people were walking down the sidewalk or into the parking lot — two men with an unwilling woman in between them — they’d have noticed it.”
“You think there were two men?”
“I think the mattresses were dragged from the bedroom into the kitchen after Paul Drake and I rang the doorbell,” Mason said. “I don’t think one person would have had time to take two trips. I think there were two mattresses and therefore two persons dragging mattresses.
“Moreover, the problem of getting the girl out of the apartment house would have been almost insurmountable for one person. Remember that he had not only to get her out of the apartment house but he had to get her into a car and make a getaway. I keep thinking things will work out all right, that Dorrie knew what she was doing and that it was all part of a plan — all except the murder. The murder fouled things all up. That forced a change in plans — but Dorrie’s all right — somewhere.”
Knuckles tapped a code signal on the door of the private office and at Mason’s nod Della Street opened the door to let Paul Drake in.
“What’s new, Paul?” Mason asked.
“Quite a write-up in the papers,” Drake said.
“Wasn’t it?”
“The only thing it lacked was to have your picture alongside the cheesecake. The photograph they used of you was very sombre and dignified.”
“They pulled it out of the newspaper’s morgue,” Mason said. “They had to use what was available... What’s new, Paul?”
Drake said, “It’s possible, Perry, that your hunch about the apartment in the building could be an explanation.”
Mason’s face etched into hard lines. “How come, Paul?”
“The day before the abduction a man who gave his name as William Camas inquired about vacancies. He was told there was one on the eighth floor, Apartment 805. He looked at it and said he wanted his wife to look at it, that he thought it would be all right. He put up a hundred dollars for what he termed an option for three days, with the understanding that at the end of three days he’d either sign a lease or forfeit the hundred dollars.”
“And moved in?” Mason asked.
“Well, nobody knows for certain. The manager gave him the key to the apartment.”
“And what’s the condition of the apartment now? What does it indicate?” Mason asked. “Any fingerprints? Any—”
“Don’t be silly,” Drake said. “You thought of it and the police thought of it. The police started asking questions, found out about Camas and got a passkey to the apartment — and that’s all anyone knows. The street comes to a dead end at that point. If the police found out anything, they’re not passing out the information.”
“But they did check the apartment?”
“With a fine-toothed comb,” Drake said.
“And do you know if they talked with Camas?”
“No one knows if they talked with Camas.”
“You couldn’t find him?”
“Not a trace,” Drake said. “He gave a Seattle address. I’ve got my man checking it. My best guess is the address is phoney.”
The telephone rang. Della Street picked up the receiver, said, “Hello,” then motioned to Drake. “For you, Paul.”
Drake picked up the telephone, said, “Drake speaking,” listened for a few minutes, said, “You’re sure?... Okay, keep digging.”
Drake hung up, turned to Perry Mason and said, “That’s right. The address was a phoney.”
Mason said, “Hang it, Paul, that scuttles my last hope. I was banking on the theory they couldn’t have got her out of that apartment against her will.”
“I know,” Drake said sympathetically. “I know how you feel, but facts are facts. I have to give you the facts. That’s my job.”
“Damn it,” Mason said, “we’ve got to do something, Paul. Wherever she is, she’s counting on us for help.”
“Take it easy, Perry. A whole army of law enforcement people are working on the case. There’s nothing more we could do except get in their way.”
“You’re sure they’re working on it?”
“Hell, yes. My man in Seattle found the Camas address was a phoney. He was third in line. The Seattle police had been working on it, the Seattle FBI had been working on it.”
Mason said, “That girl is in danger.”
“Not now she isn’t,” Drake said. “I don’t want to be heartless about it, but if anything’s going to happen to her it’s happened already. If she’s dead, she’s dead. If she isn’t dead, it’s because she’s being held for some particular purpose, ransom or blackmail or something of that sort. There’s just nothing you can do, Perry, except wait it out.”
Mason sighed. “I have always been accustomed to controlling events, within reason. I hate like hell to find myself in a position where events are controlling me.”
“Well, they are now,” Drake said. “There’s nothing we can do except wait. I’m going back to the office, Perry, and I’ll keep in touch.”
“What about your men?” Mason asked. “Would it help to put more men out?”
“I’m calling them in,” Drake said. “My men would simply run up an excessive bill for you to pay and they would get in the way of the law enforcement agencies that are working on the case. Let’s just give them a free hand.”