“Know who she was?” Mason asked.
“He either doesn’t or says he doesn’t,” Drake said, “but the D.A.’s outfit hasn’t really started to work on him yet. When they do, they’ll probably get results. I also have some men working on it from another angle.”
Mason said, “I’m not so certain that angle is important, Paul.”
“I thought you wanted all the dope.”
“I do.”
“Well, this is part of it.”
Mason said, “It might get some innocent girl in an awful jam, Paul.”
“Why innocent?” Drake asked.
“Because I don’t believe that Wentworth would have taken the yacht out to sea after he’d been shot.”
“All right,” Drake said, “figure out how someone could have shot him on the high seas and then called a taxicab. Anyway, this girl is in it now right up to her neck. The D.A.’s office will identify her before they get done.”
Mason sighed. “Okay, Paul. You can’t find out anything sitting in here and gassing.”
“I’ve got five men on the job,” Drake said. “Do you want any more?”
“Use your judgment, Paul. I want the facts. I would like to get them in advance of the police if I could.”
“You can’t,” Drake said. “I can pick up crumbs here and there, but the big dish is being served to Homicide. They’re working on the case. They have the facilities. And they have the authority.”
“Just a minute,” Mason said. “How was he dressed when he was found?”
“You mean the color of clothes, or...”
“No. Was he fully clothed?”
“Why, yes, I guess so.”
Mason said, “Find out, will you, Paul?”
“Okay. I just took it for granted he was dressed because no one said anything to the contrary.”
“All right,” Mason said. “Get busy and keep me posted.”
Drake made no move to get up out of the chair. “You seem to be in a hell of a hurry this morning, Perry.”
Mason motioned toward the stack of mail and said, “I have to work for a living. Look at that mail.”
“I’m looking at it,” Drake said. “I’m also looking at you. This is the first time I ever saw you in such a stew to tackle a pile of correspondence. Let’s talk a little sense, Perry. Suppose it was Mae Farr who went aboard that yacht last night?”
Mason raised his eyebrows. “Why pick on her?” he asked.
“Why not?”
“For one reason,” Mason said, “she and Wentworth weren’t particularly cordial. Wentworth had her arrested on a forgery charge.”
“I know,” Drake said. “Miss Farr might have figured she could square that forgery rap if she had a few minutes alone with him.”
“There was nothing to square,” Mason said. “It was a frame up.”
“I know,” Drake said, “but the question is did Mae know?”
“Of course she knew,” Mason said. “Her boyfriend was in here when we ripped Wentworth to pieces.”
Drake said, “She may have gone down there, Perry.”
“What makes you think she did?”
“The description fits.”
“Whose description?”
“The man who saw the girl getting out of the car. He knew she was Wentworth’s property.”
“Wentworth have a brand on her?” Mason asked.
“No, but you know how those yachtsmen are. They stick together. A good looking, unescorted girl, rubber necking around at yachts, wouldn’t have much difficulty finding some yachtsman who was willing to show her around, but when she belongs to one of the crowd, that’s different.”
“I don’t like that assumption of ownership,” Mason said.
“You know what I mean, Perry. A girl who’s coming down to call on some particular yachtsman.”
Mason said, “Mae Farr is our client.”
“I know,” Drake rejoined. “The ostrich sticks his head in the sand. You wouldn’t want to have any sand in my eyes, would you, Perry?”
Mason said impatiently, “Oh, get the hell out of here, and let me figure this thing, Paul. I’m worried because we can’t get in touch with Mae Farr.”
Drake said to Della, “Have you tried her boyfriend?”
Della shook her head.
“It might be a good thing to try him,” Drake said to Perry Mason.
“It might,” Mason agreed.
Drake sighed and began to uncoil himself. He got to his feet, stretched, yawned, and said, “Have it your own way, Perry. You know what you’re doing. I’ll keep you posted.” He walked slowly across the office, opened the exit door, and then turned as though about to say something, but he thought better of it and moved silently out into the corridor.
As the door clicked shut, Mason and Della Street exchanged glances.
Mason said, “All right, Della. You’re elected. Take your shorthand book.”
She picked up her shorthand book from the desk. “Long?” she asked.
“Very short,” Mason said.
“All right, I’m ready.”
Mason said, “Write ‘demand’ in caps at the head of the page and then put on a dateline and the words, ‘Demand is hereby made that you produce for the inspection of my attorney the original cheque purported to be signed by Penn Wentworth on which you have refused payment, claiming the same is a forgery. This is a cheque payable to the undersigned, Mae Farr, and purported to have been endorsed on the back thereof “Pay to the order of Stylefirst Department Store, (signed) Mae Farr.”’”
Della Street’s pen flew rapidly over the shorthand note book.
“Put a blank for a signature on that,” Mason said. “Type it out, then put on your hat, and go hunt up Mae Farr.”
“You mean go to her apartment?” Della Street asked.
“Go anyplace,” Mason said. “Find out all you can. Remember this Demand is your protection, in case anyone asks questions. You’re simply looking for her as a part of your duties as my secretary. I want this Demand signed by her so we can serve it on the bank.”
“You mean it’s just a stall?” she asked.
“Just a stall,” he said, “to protect you in case anyone starts checking up.”
“How long do I stay on the job?” Della asked.
“Until you find her,” Mason said, “or until I give you different instructions. Telephone in every hour or so and let me know what you’re doing. Try and get a line on her. Find out if anyone saw her come in or saw her leave. Find out where she keeps her car. Check up on it. In other words, I want everything you can dig up. Feed the facts to me as fast as you get them. If anyone tries to get rough, be wide eyed and innocent. I dictated this Demand to you and told you to get Miss Farr’s signature. You’re trying to get it.”
Della Street nodded. “On my way,” she said, and went out.
At eleven-thirty, Della Street telephoned her first report. “I’ve located her automobile,” she said.
“Where is it?”
“In the garage where she ordinarily keeps it.”
“Can you find out what time it came in?”
“Yes, about three o’clock this morning.”
“Who drove it in?”
“She did.”
“Find anything about her?”
“Not yet.”
Mason said, “Do everything you can on that angle, Della. Remember that’s one place where we’re ahead of the police. I want to get the information before they do.”
“I think,” she said, “I could work faster if I had one of Paul Drake’s men to help me.”
“No, that’s exactly what I don’t want,” Mason said. “We can trust Paul, but we can’t trust his men. As my secretary, you can be on the job getting a paper signed, and that’s all there is to it. If police ask one of Drake’s men why he happened to be looking for her, it wouldn’t be so good.”