“Very.”
“Otherwise,” Mrs. Harlan said dryly, “I wouldn’t have had to invest thirty-two thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars in stock that I didn’t want. Now she’ll invite him into the house for a drink or a cup of tea and—”
Harlan had been standing by the woman, who was smiling up at him. Mason could see her lips move as she said something, then, with her face near to the man’s, she paused for a moment, her chin elevated at just the right angle.
Abruptly, the man swept her into his arms in a crushing embrace.
Mason lowered the binoculars to glance at Mrs. Harlan.
She had turned her back to the window and was standing with her fists clenched.
“All right,” Mason said, “I’ve seen the property.”
“Ready to go?”
“I think I’d better. That directors’ meeting is for one-thirty. I want to be there when it opens.”
“Enny will be leaving any minute now,” she said.
“Was that house built after the property was—”
“No, the house has been there for some time. That’s on the level part of the property. The hill commenced just back of where the swimming pool is now. That’s new. Enny likes to swim. That wall around the patio, enclosing the swimming pool, gives them privacy. That unpainted boxlike shack just below here is the contractor’s shack.”
“Hasn’t it occurred to him to look up here?” Mason asked. “Can’t she see you at that window?”
“I have been very careful. They never even bother to look up here. They take this old empty house for granted, the way a wife takes her husband for granted — until she suddenly finds it’s too late to salvage her marriage.”
“You’re wearing white today,” Mason said. “When you raised that window, you could have been rather conspicuous and—”
“I don’t wear white when I come up here. I wear something dark. I just wanted you to see the property, Mr. Mason. You’ll have to understand the setup. Do you want to go down and look at the boundary line?”
“Can we see it from here?”
“We can see it from here, but, as you pointed out, I’m too conspicuous. Let’s go.”
Mason put the binoculars back into the case. She held out her hand.
“I’ll carry them,” Mason said.
Mrs. Harlan again carefully raised and folded her skirts. “I feel as much of an exhibitionist as that minx down there at the swimming pool, but the dirt in this house just jumps at you if you give it a chance — and I take it you’ve seen legs before, Mr. Mason.”
“Not that good-looking,” Mason said.
She laughed. “Thank you. I think I needed that to build my morale — otherwise, I wouldn’t have fished for it. They are good. I know my good points, Mr. Mason, but sometimes I’m afraid I don’t know my bad points.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m a creature of emotions. In my case, sophistication is a thin veneer. At times I have the most savage, ruthless impulses. Sometimes I— Well, Mr. Mason, there are depths in my emotions I’m afraid to look into. I’m not a well-controlled person. Sometimes I’m afraid I could become a vicious, clawing savage.
“You know, some women would have become friendly with the mistress, trying to size up her technique to see what she had that the wife didn’t have. I’ve seen them do that, cooing at each other, sparring for position in a cold war that was all sweetness on the outside. I couldn’t do that. I’d have been at her throat.
“I know I can’t trust myself. I’ll just have to stay away from that woman, that’s all.”
“That might be a good idea,” Mason said.
“What idea?”
“To keep away from her.”
“You’re right. Let’s quit talking about her, shall we?”
She led the way down the stairs. Mason followed her to the ground floor. She opened the outer door, released her skirts, fluffed them into place, and stood a moment in the doorway, the bright sunlight showing the silhouette of her figure through the light, white skirt. She stretched her arms above her head, with the tips of her fingers she smoothed her hair back around her ears, glanced over her shoulder at Perry Mason. “Think I stand a chance?”
“I would say you stood a very good chance.”
She stepped out into the sunlight, holding the door open for Perry Mason, and he followed her through the door. She closed and locked it.
“The boundary line comes right along here to the northeast,” she said. “You can see where they stopped the excavation. Then our property caved down after it rained.”
“It’ll cave some more if there are further rains,” Mason said.
“I suppose so. But after all, what difference does it make. The house is going to be torn down.
“Think of the stories this house could tell, Mr. Mason. At one time it was a mansion out in the exclusive suburbs. Those were the days when you traveled by horse and buggy and went back and forth to town on an interurban streetcar. Beautiful women climbed up and down those stairs. There were marriages... births... deaths... and then there were people who moved in, common, ordinary people, then another class of people. Can you imagine persons moving out of a house and leaving all of that nasty litter behind them? It’s awful when something outlives its usefulness, Mr. Mason.”
She stood in the sunlight, facing the lawyer, her face hard and bitter. “Six years,” she said, and spat the words out.
Mason said, “I thought it was your fifth anniversary.”
“My fifth anniversary,” she said, “but I’m talking about that beautiful brown body down there. She’s six years younger than I. That’s the handicap I have to give. That’s what I’m fighting against. And as I get older, I’ll have to give more and more of a handicap. There’s always a young crop coming along with curves and... oh, hell, Mr. Mason, I think I’m going to bawl.”
“Wait a minute,” Mason said sharply. “This is your fifth wedding anniversary, remember? You’re going to the beauty shop. You’re going to gild the lily and paint the rose, and then you’re going to turn on your personality and make that woman in the red-tiled house down there look pale by comparison.”
“She isn’t pale. She’s beautiful. She has a wonderful brown body. Her skin has beautiful golden tints. I’ve watched her, I’ve studied every inch of her — and she’s six years younger than I am.”
“And,” Mason said, “she’s going to start asking your husband why he didn’t protect her property rights and what is meant by the doctrine of lateral support?”
“What is the doctrine of lateral support?” Mrs. Harlan asked, suddenly curious.
“That,” Mason said, grinning, “is what the directors of the Sylvan Glade Development Company are going to be asking in just about forty-five minutes. And if you don’t mind accepting the appraisal of an expert, Mrs. Harlan, that girl down there doesn’t have anything on you. You can spot her curve for curve, and she can’t touch you on personality.”
“Thanks for trying to boost my morale, Mr. Mason. You don’t know how I need it. I’m getting pretty desperate. I—” She suddenly jumped into the car, unlocked the glove compartment, started to put in the binoculars which Mason held out to her, hesitated, then took the gun out and put it into her handbag.
“What’s that for?” Mason said.
Her laugh seemed cheerful. “I’ll put it back among my husband’s other guns. I’m not going to need it after all — now that I am beginning to understand the way you have things planned.”
Chapter 4
George C. Lutts, sitting at the head of the mahogany table, tapped gently with the gavel and said in his dry, rasping voice, “This meeting will please come to order.”
The men seated at the table straightened expectantly.