"Now, you look here,"Gideon said, "you can't do this. I'll tell everything I know. I'll get onthe stand, relate this telephone conversation and -"
"And it will be sofantastic," Mason interrupted, "that no one will believe you. But theeffect of it will be that you'll have to claim that I tried to frame a murderon you because you were blackmailing a client of mine. Think that over."
"I-You-"
"And on second thought,"Mason said, "since you have given me a place to meet you, I'll be there atexactly twenty minutes past three. I won't be bringing any money and I willhave a gun."
Mason hung up the telephone.
Della Street, who had been monitoring the conversation,looked at Perry Mason with wide eyes. "Do you, by any chance, want to goto the bank and get some money, just in case -"
"No, thanks," Mason said.
"Are you going alone?" sheasked apprehensively.
Mason said, "A blackmailerdoesn't want a witness and when I'm dealing with a blackmailer I don't wantone. I'm rather good at making threats myself… Where's the reproduction ofthat composite sketch Paul Drake had the police artist make? Here's where I jara blackmailer right back on his heels and start him running so far and so fasthe won't ever come back."
Mason pushed back his chair, stoodat the desk, his clenched fists pressing down on the blotter, his chin juttingforward with grim determination.
"Della," he said,"ring Horace Warren's office, tell his secretary you're a reporter withone of the wire services, that you'd like a brief interview in connection withsome matter that originated in the east and your editor has instructed you toget an immediate interview."
Della Street put through the call, listened, said,"Thank you," hung up, turned to Mason and said, "Out on animportant appointment. Won't be back until after four this afternoon."
Mason said, "Now call for yourfriend, Judson Olney. Tell whoever answers that you're his friend, Della Street, and that he left word for you tocall."
Again Della put through the call.Again she said, "Thank you," and turned to Mason. "He's outuntil three-thirty I think that was the secretary. Her tone was acid."Mason stood in frowning contemplation.
"Damn Paul Drake's men forlosing Mrs Warren," he said at length, "but it doesn't make anydifference. We know now where she's going – and there isn't time to head heroff."
Della Street's face showed dismay. "Do you thinkshe's heading for a rendezvous with Gideon?"
"Where else?" Mason asked."If Gideon tried putting the bite on me, it's almost certain he's tryingMrs Warren. He's worked out a schedule. Probably Mrs Warren at two-thirty,Horace Warren at two-forty-five, Olney at three, me at three-twenty – a planeat four-thirty. And I can't stop him. There isn't time. That place is at theother end of town."
"Couldn't Paul Drake get somemen there and -"
"There isn't time," Masonsaid. "We're dealing with a super-intelligent crook and so far he's hadall the breaks."
"Don't you think you jolted himwith what you said about the witnesses in that murder case?"
"Of course I jolted him,"Mason said, "but I could tell from his manner that it doesn't make as muchdifference as I'd hoped. He's cleaning up. He's putting the bite on everybody.He's going to get the most he can and then clear out."
"And you can't stop him?"
"I can't stop him," Masonsaid, "because I don't dare to let him be picked up by the police and heknows it. Nevertheless, I don't want to sit idly by and have him put hisblackmail scheme into operation."
"Will you wait untilthree-twenty to -"
"No," Mason interrupted."That's where I have him. His split-second timing shows that he's workingout a very carefully engineered schedule for getting his victims on the spotone at a time and – Della, ring up the fire department. Put in a fire alarm forthe store at the corner of Clovina and Hendersell. Tell them there's a big firein the back room."
Della Street's eyes were wide. "That's a crime.That – "
"Sure, it's a crime,"Mason said. "It's also a crime to exceed the speed limit and that's whatI'm going to do getting there. I defy any blackmailer to carry on a successfulblackmail approach in the midst of a fire alarm."
"Then get Paul Drake to sendtwo operatives down to Clovina and Hendersell just as fast as he can!"
"I'm on my way"
Mason grabbed his hat and shot outof the door.
Chapter 12
Mason parked his car on Clovina Avenue.
On the other side of the street weretwo police cars and the red car of a deputy fire chief. Further down the blockthere were several cars parked at the kerb.
The store at the corner of Clovinaand Hendersell had evidently been a large space, low rental property Thebuilding was run-down, the neighbourhood was drab and dejected. At one time thebuilding had been used for surplus goods, and a weather-beaten sign of SURPLUSSALE still adorned the front of the building.
As Mason left the car a man came upto him. "Perry Mason?"
"That's right."
"I'm Lou Pitman, one of Drake'soperatives. Drake caught me on the car radio phone and sent me here on a rushcall. As it happened I was working on another job not too far away and I gothere about the same time the fire department did."
Mason eyed the man steadily."Let's see your credentials," he said.
Pitman produced his identificationcard.
"Okay," Mason said."Now tell me what happened."
"It was a false alarm,"Pitman said. "The fire company came charging up, parked their fire trucks,looked the place over, started to leave, then one of them looked in a window,said something to the others. They knocked a window out, went in, thenevidently put in a call over their short-wave radio for the police. The policecame rushing out here and apparently there was a man trapped inside thebuilding."
"Trapped inside thebuilding?" Mason asked.
"That's right."
"He didn't get away?"
"He didn't get away."
"He should have," Masonsaid thoughtfully. "He shouldn't have been there by the time the firewagons got there. Go on, what happened?"
"I don't know what happened,but more police cars have been coming. There's something on the inside therethat bothers them and they're evidently questioning this man – Here they comenow."
The front door of the store opened.Lt Tragg, flanked by a plain-clothes detective and two uniformed officers,escorted Horace Warren out of the building.
"Good Lord!" Mason said.
"You know him?" Pitmanasked.
Abruptly Mason turned from Pitman,barged across the street and moved toward the group. One of the officers saidsomething to Lt Tragg, who looked up and was unable to keep the expression ofsurprise from his face as he saw Mason bearing down on them.
"Well, well," Tragg said."This is quick work! How did you get here? Did your client telephone youand -"
Mason fastened his eyes on Warren. "Not one word, Warren," he said. "Not one word. Don'topen your lips!"
One of the uniformed officers bargedforward, shoved Mason back. "On your way," he said, "this is ahomicide."
"Not one word," Masoncalled over his shoulder. Then said to the officer, "I'm this man'sattorney."
"I don't give a damn who youare," the officer told him. "After he's booked he has the right toask for a lawyer and then you can come and see him, but you're not going tobutt in on things here. On your way!"
Mason side-stepped enough to catch Warren's eye and received a slight nod of thehead.
Mason walked back across the street.
The other group entered two policecars and roared away.
"Wasn't that Tragg, ofHomicide?" Pitman asked.
"That's right," Masonsaid. "He wouldn't be here unless there was a dead body inside and unlessit was murder.
"They're leaving a police carthere with officers in charge of the place. That looks like a big storeroomwith a warehouse in back. There may be an entrance on the other street. As soonas you get reinforcements here, cover the building. Try and find out whathappened and telephone me at my office."