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Marley said nothing.

When he had gone, Mason said, “Well?”

Marley said, “Too bad about Penn.”

Mason nodded.

“However,” Marley went on, “I’m a man of the world, and I take it, Mr. Mason, that you’re a businessman.”

Again Mason nodded. “Better sit down.”

Marley eased one hip over on the arm of the chair which Drake had just vacated. “You’re representing Mae Farr?” he asked.

Mason nodded.

“A nice girl, Mae.”

“Know her?”

“Yes. Penn carried a torch for her. I was close to Penn. Sometimes we’d cruise on his yacht, sometimes on mine. It depended on the weather. My boat performs best on a smooth sea. Penn had an all weather yacht.”

Mason nodded.

“Mae’s an independent kid,” Marley said, almost musingly.

“Any idea who killed him?” Mason asked abruptly.

Frank Marley’s dark eyes bored steadily through the light blue haze of cigarette smoke which framed his features. “Yes,” he said.

“Who?” Mason asked.

“Suppose I tell you a story first.”

“It’s your show,” Mason said. “Go ahead and run it.”

Marley said. “I want something.”

“You don’t look exactly like a philanthropist,” Mason observed.

“What I want means a lot to me and not much to you.”

“Go ahead,” Mason urged.

“I always figured you were the best mouthpiece in the business. I made up my mind that if I ever got in a jam, I’d come to you.”

Mason’s acknowledgment was less than a bow, almost a nod.

“I’m apt to be in a jam on this thing.”

“How come?”

“Penn was never divorced. He and his wife could never agree on a property settlement. She tried to wear him down. He wouldn’t give her a divorce, and she wouldn’t give him one. Neither one of them could have had a divorce without the other’s consent. It would have resulted in a lot of mudslinging, and a judge would have kicked them both out of court.”

“They didn’t get along?” Mason asked.

“At first they did. Afterwards, it was just like two cats tied by the tails and thrown over a clothesline.”

Mason said, “I suppose that was after you started playing around with her.”

Marley’s face didn’t exactly change expression. It merely stiffened as though he had frozen his facial muscles into immobility at the impact of Mason’s remark. After a long moment, he puffed calmly on his cigarette and said, with equal calmness, “What gave you that idea, Mason?”

“Just a shot in the dark,” Mason said.

“Don’t make them,” Marley warned. “I don’t like them.”

Mason ostentatiously pulled a sheet of paper toward himself, and scribbled a rapid note on it.

“What’s that?” Marley asked suspiciously.

“Just making a note to have my detective look up that angle of the case.”

“You,” Marley announced, “are hard to get along with.”

“Not for those who shoot square with me,” Mason said. “When a man sits on the other side of the desk and starts trading horses, I trade horses.”

“Better wait until you hear the horse trade I have lined up,” Marley said, “before you start getting rough.”

“I’ve been waiting ever since you came in,” Mason reminded him.

“As I was saying,” Marley said, “I think you’re a swell mouthpiece. I’d rather have you in my corner than in the other guy’s corner. Juanita is still Wentworth’s wife. I don’t think Penn left a will. She’ll have the job of winding up the estate. As the surviving partner, I’ll have to account to her for partnership business.”

“Well?” Mason asked.

“It’s going to put me in a spot,” Marley said.

“Why?”

“There were things that Penn knew all about,” Marley said, “which wouldn’t look so well in black and white. I did certain things. I asked Penn about them before I did them. He gave me his okay. It was all word of mouth, nothing in writing. Naturally, I didn’t think he was going to get bumped off.”

“So?” Mason asked.

“So I want you to be in my corner.”

“For what?” Mason asked. “The preliminary fight or the main event?”

“Just a preliminary,” Marley made haste to assure him. “There isn’t any main event as far as I’m concerned. I want you to represent me in straightening out the affairs of the partnership.”

“That all?”

“That’s all.”

“How much,” Mason asked, “were you prepared to pay?”

Marley said hastily, “Before we start talking about that, I’ll tell you some more about the horse I have to trade.”

“What about it?”

Marley said, “I don’t have too much use for the cops. I’ve been in business too long. I’m sorry Penn got croaked. Being sorry can’t help him any. He’s gone. I’m left. I have to look out for myself. All right, here’s the proposition: Mae Farr killed him. I have a witness who can prove it. You play ball with me, and I play ball with you.”

“I don’t like that sort of a ball game,” Mason said. “You call all the strikes and let me pitch all the balls.”

“No, it isn’t like that, Mason, honest. Look here, I’ll put my cards on the table. Mae Farr bumped him. I think she was entitled to do it. I think a jury would think so, but it would be a lot better for her if she didn’t have to go in front of a jury and tell all that stuff.

“You know, Penn was always on the make for her. I don’t think she was any virgin, but she just didn’t care for Penn. Perhaps she got a kick out of holding him at arm’s length and watching him pant. Some women are like that.”

“Go ahead,” Mason said.

“Hell, do I have to draw you a diagram?”

“Yes.”

Marley sighed and said, “Oh well, here it is. A certain party who shall be nameless was at the Yacht Club late last night and early this morning, sitting in an automobile waiting.”

“For what?” Mason asked.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ll let it go at that then. She was waiting. She knew Penn. She knew me. She knew our boats. She didn’t know Mae. While she was sitting in her car waiting and getting sore because she thought her boyfriend had stood her up, she saw the lights of a boat coming into the float. She thought at first it was the one she was waiting for, then she saw it was my cruiser, the Atina.”

Mason shifted his eyes to watch the smoke which drifted upward from the tip of Marley’s cigarette.

“The party handling the Atina didn’t make such a good landing, scraped and bumped around a little bit, finally got the motors shut off, and jumped out with the mooring lines. She saw it was a girl. She didn’t know the girl, but she got a good look at her face. Later on, she heard about the murder. She put two and two together. She told me about it. She described the girl. The description checks with Mae.”

“Well,” Mason said, “she—”

“Just a moment,” Marley pleaded, holding up his hand. “I want you to have it absolutely straight. I had photographs taken on cruises, showing Mae Farr. I showed this girl the photographs. She’s positive that Mae was the one who had my cruiser out.”

“Well?” Mason asked.

“You can figure what that testimony will do to you,” Marley said.

“It won’t do a damn thing to me,” Mason told him.

“Well, it will to your client.”

“Testimony,” Mason said, “is one thing. Conversation is another. Don’t forget I have a right to cross-examine witnesses. There are a lot of questions I can think of right now that I’d like to ask this witness of yours. There’ll probably be a lot more by the time I know more about the case.”

“Sure there will,” Marley said, his enunciation becoming more rapid. “That’s what I’m getting at. You’re dangerous, Mason. I know it. I’m not kidding myself a damn bit. You can probably beat the rap on Mae Farr. She’s a good looking baby, and jurors fall for that stuff. She can put on a great story about fighting for her honour. It’s a cinch. Good looking women have lived with men for months and then killed them to defend their honour, and weeping juries have brought in verdicts exonerating the dames and asking for their telephone numbers afterwards. It’s a cinch you can beat it.”