“I don’t think I could do that. I don’t think it’s fair. And I really didn’t have an accomplice. I just happened to be picked up by a casual canoeist.”
He studied her, and she felt uneasy under his eyes. “The letter,” he said impressively, “is a forgery. You have my assurance of that. Will that make it any easier for you to promise to forget?”
“How do I know it’s a forgery?”
“Ill prove it to you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Not here. I haven’t even the letter here, much less the proof. But if you’ll give me the chance, my dear, I’ll prove the forgery, the complete spuriousness of that letter. Then there will be nothing to prevent you being reasonable with me.”
She thought over what he had said, her eyes speculative. “And you’d give me money?”
“Of course, my dear, a large … well, shall we say an adequate sum? After all, Dorothy, while you and I don’t get along, I’m trustworthy.”
She turned her eyes to get away-from his probing scrutiny. The telephone caught and held her gaze.
George Alder said, “Look, you’re nervous, you’re upset, and you’re a little frightened of me, aren’t you?”
“I think you have some ulterior motive, or you wouldn’t be . .
“Good lord!” he exclaimed impatiently. “I don’t want notoriety. And I’m trying to do the right thing—if you’ll only let me.”
He got to his feet.
“Dorothy,” he said, “I’m going back to the island. You think this over. Then, when you’ve seen the logic of my position, when you’re ready to accept a very adequate cash payment and be relieved of this criminal prosecution, you will come to me and I’ll prove to you that this letter is a complete falsification.”
“When?”
“Any time tonight, dear. The sooner the better. Ill let the servants go and the dog will be shut up in his closet. I’ll be waiting.”
“Not tonight I…”
“Tonight,” he interrupted with firm insistence. “I have plans of my own to make. And remember, my dear, you’re still guilty of breaking and entering, and even though you’re out on bail, you’re still the defendant in a criminal action. Say nothing to anyone. Just come and let me show you the real proof of the falsity of the charges made in that letter, and then you and I will come to a complete understanding.
“I’ll be waiting, my dear, but say nothing to anyone. And it would be better if you left this hotel—shall we say, surreptitiously? Your lawyer, you know, would want to have a hand in this settlement, and we don’t want him to have any of your money. Do we, Dorothy?”
He walked rapidly to the door, paused in the doorway, and said, “Remember, I’ll be there at the island-waiting. The dog will be shut up and the servants absent. Just walk across the bridge and then around tjie walk to my study door. You know the way.
“Good night, Dorothy.”
He closed the door behind him.
Chapter 9
PAUL DRAKE, SEATED IN HIS CUBBYHOLE OF A PRIVATE OFFICE, a green plastic eyeshade pulled down over his eyes, studied a series of reports. Telephones on his desk kept him constantly in touch with the men who were out in the field. On the wall an electric clock silently paced the seconds.
Perry Mason and Della Street, using the prerogative of long friendship and the relationship of steady employers, marched unannounced down the narrow corridor, tapped perfunctorily on the door of Drake’s private office, and then Mason held it open so that Della Street could enter first.
Drake looked up from his reports, grinned, glanced at the clock, rubbed his eyes, and said, “I was just getting ready to knock off and go home. Where have you folks been?”
Mason slipped his arm around Della Street’s waist. “Dining, dancing and relaxing, Paul. At this stage we’re hiring you to do the work.”
Drake said wearily, “Maybe you think it isn’t work! These birds who think a private detective has glamorous adventures, plays tag with cops, spends his free time fighting off beautiful babes, should try keeping two dozen operatives working so they get results and don’t fall all over each other’s feet.”
“What’s new?” Mason asked.
“Lots of things. Nothing startling, just a lot of details that we can button up into a package by morning. Things always slow down a little around this time of night. You can’t get people to talk after they’ve gone to bed, no matter how many men you have on the job, so I usually start laying men off, and plan on an early morning start”
“You find out anything about Corrine?” Mason asked.
“Evidently she was despondent because a close friend had walked out on her. That friend, incidentally, was Minerva Danby who was washed overboard from George Alder’s yacht.
“George Alder flew to South America when he heard his half sister was mentally sick. He arrived the day she disappeared. Circumstances indicate suicide over despondency, but her body was never found.
“Carmen Monterrey, Corrine’s maid and companion, is back in this country somewhere. I’ve put ads in all the papers—routine wording, If Carmen Monterrey will communicate with the undersigned, she’ll learn something very much to her advantage.’ I’ve had a blind box number on the ad, so … “
The right-hand phone on Drake’s desk rang insistently.
The detective motioned excuses to Mason, picked up the telephone, said, “Hello … Okay, go ahead… What? I … The hell! … Okay, give me details … All right, get details and feed them in here just as fast as you can. I’m sending a couple more men down to help you get the dope. I want facts … All right, I'll be right here … you start digging. I’ll have two men down there within half an hour … All right, get them.”
Drake slammed up the phone, said, “Just a minute, ! Perry, hold everything.”
He grabbed the phone on his left and barked an order to someone in the office. “Get two men down to the Alder residence on the island. I want them to help Jake. Get them started fast … No, I don’t care what two men you take. This takes precedence over everything… only get good men. This is hot!”
Drake dropped the receiver into place, pushed the green eyeshade up on his forehead and said, “George Alder’s been murdered.”
“The devil he hasl When?”
“Apparently within the last few hours. Sally Bangor, employed as a servant, made the discovery, and surprised the murderer red-handed in the study. Death apparently by gunshot Body lying sprawled out on the floor of his study. Outer door open. Dog inside a converted closet where George kept him shut up when he was expecting visitors.
“The man I had assigned to keep the house covered just got there. He found police cars around the place, got a flash that Alder had been murdered, and beat it to a phone to give me die news. Now he’s gone back to prowl around and contact someone who will talk—a newspaper photographer, reporter, friendly cop, or someone. He has contacts and we should hear from him in a few minutes.”
“Why didn’t you have him on the job before this?” Mason asked irritably.
“Have a heart, Perry. There was no indication there was anything urgent about covering the house. In fact, I debated whether to put anyone on there before morning. I … “
“It’s all right, Paul,” Mason interrupted. “I’m jumpy.”
Drake said, “Excuse me a minute and I’ll go out to die switchboard and start directing activities from there. I can gain a little time that way and I may be able to pick up some stuff from one of the newspaper offices here.”
Drake left the room and Mason exchanged glances with Della Street, then started pacing the floor.
Della Street sat motionless, watching him, her short-hand notebook poised on her knee, a pencil held over it ready to take down any instructions Mason might give. But the lawyer continued to pace thoughtfully back and forth across the narrow confines of Drake’s office, his chin on his chest.