“Well?” Mason asked.
“Look here,” she said abruptly, “I’ve long ago come to the conclusion that a person can get what he wants out of life, if he wants it badly enough.”
“I have heard others advance the same idea,” Mason commented.
“Well, I’ve lived my life according to that theory. I get what I want, but it’s not particularly easy. You have to want what you want with every ounce of energy and vitality you possess.”
“And so?”
“And so I’ve learned to be absolutely cold blooded and selfish,” she said, meeting his eyes defiantly.
“Most successful people are selfish,” Mason said. “Most strong people are selfish. Here and there, you find the exception which proves the rule. I’m discussing generalities. If you’re selfish, don’t apologize for it.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
“Then,” Mason said, “I take it you’re leading up to something.”
“I am.”
“Then lead up to it.”
“All right. Look here. If I go to the police, I’ll have my name in the paper. I’ll have to go on the witness stand. They’ll have photographs of me. I think I’d photograph rather well — for newspaper purposes. That proposed trip to Ensenada would be magnified and distorted.”
“I thought you didn’t care for appearances,” Mason said.
“I don’t, but I do care for reputation.”
“So what?”
“So, Mr. Mason, if I go on the witness stand, I’m going to hurt your client. Your client shouldn’t want me to go on the witness stand. This man Anders shouldn’t want me to go on the witness stand. You shouldn’t want me to go on the witness stand. I don’t want to go on the witness stand.
“I would like to take a trip. I know someone who has a yacht. I won’t mention any names. That someone and I could start on a cruise to the South Seas. We’d have all kinds of bad luck. The engine would break down. We’d be blown off course, would make a landing at some isolated tropical island, would be out of fuel, would have to repair the mast and sails, and it would be weeks or months before we’d be heard of again.”
“Rather a dangerous way to avoid going on the witness stand, isn’t it?” Mason asked.
“I don’t think so. I’d love it.”
“What seems to be holding you back?” Mason inquired.
She said suddenly, “Oh, I see what you mean. You think it’s Frank Marley. No, it isn’t. Frank has to stay here. This person has a small auxiliary. Marley’s boat could never make a long ocean voyage. It would be foolishness to even try.”
“Well, I’ll put it another way,” Mason said. “What’s holding this other person back?”
“Money,” she said.
“Money?”
“Yes — or the lack of it, if you want to put it that way.”
“I see.”
“Mr. Mason,” she said eagerly, “it wouldn’t take very much money to do the trick, and — in case you have a conscience — you wouldn’t be paying me to stay off the witness stand. It would be simply a proposition of financing me on a little trip I’ve always wanted to take. A thousand dollars would cover the whole cost.”
Mason shook his head.
“Seven-fifty?” she said.
Again Mason shook his head.
“Look, Mr. Mason. I’ll do it for five. It would be quite a job because we’ll have to be gone for a long time, and this other party has certain obligations, but we could do it for five.”
Mason said, “No. It isn’t a matter of price.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a six letter word,” Mason said. “I’m not certain you’d understand.”
“Oh, please, Mr. Mason. You don’t know how much it means to me.”
Mason shook his head, got up from the chair, pushed his hands down deep into his trouser pockets and stood for a moment lost in thought. Then he started pacing the room, not the aimless pacing of mental preoccupation, but a slow, studied tour of inspection along the baseboard of the four walls of the room.
“What is it?” she asked, watching him with apprehensive eyes.
“Just thinking,” Mason said.
“You’re looking along the floor.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Mason continued his slow progress around the room.
She walked over to stand at his side. “What is it, Mr. Mason?” she asked. Then, as he didn’t answer, she placed a pleading hand on his shoulder. “Look, Mr. Mason. It wouldn’t cost you a thing. Harold Anders is rich. He has lots of money and lots of land. I’m a poor girl. Gosh, what he’d have to pay me wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket compared to what he’d pay you for defending him.”
“I’m not his lawyer,” Mason said.
She paused suddenly, thinking that over, then after a moment said, “Oh.”
Mason finished his tour of inspection.
“Who is Mr. Anders’ lawyer?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He’s consulted someone up north, someone around North Mesa.”
“In North Mesa?”
“Probably in the county seat.”
“You don’t know his name?”
“No.”
She said, “Listen, Mr. Mason, will you do me a favour? As soon as you find out just who is representing him, will you give me a ring and let me know? You could do that much and — and it might amount to the same thing.”
Mason said, “Under the circumstances, you’d better read the newspapers and get your information from them.”
“All right, I will. Look here, Mr. Mason. I put my cards on the table with you because I had that proposition to make you. You won’t take advantage of me, will you?”
“How do you mean?”
“This trip to Ensenada and what I’ve told you about what I do — how I get my yachting trips?”
Mason said, “When you put your cards on the table, you can’t very well expect the other man not to know what you’re going to play.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “It would depend on what you did to me.”
“But I’m giving you a fair deal.”
Mason raised his voice. “All right, let’s hope so. In any event, I won’t pay five cents to suppress your testimony. I won’t let my client pay five cents.”
“You aren’t going to tell the police about what I saw?”
Mason said, “Don’t worry. I’m not working up a case against the district attorney.” He picked up his hat and moved toward the door. “Good-bye, Miss Tooms.”
She made a little grimace. “Oh, Mr. Mason, I had hoped you’d be reasonable.”
“And do what?”
“You know.”
Mason said, “People have different ideas about what’s reasonable. It depends somewhat on the viewpoint. Good night.”
She raised her eyes to his. “Don’t forget, Mr. Mason.”
“I won’t.”
It was as he started down the hall toward the elevator that she called to him. “And don’t forget I have an observing mind.”
The door closed gently but firmly.
Chapter 11
Mason found a little hotel two blocks from Hazel Tooms’ apartment. He called Paul Drake from the telephone booth. “Hi, Paul,” he said. “What’s new?”
Drake’s voice showed excitement. “Lots of stuff, Perry. Listen. You were tailed when you left the office. Della tried to get you but was too late. A couple of plain clothes men followed that taxicab. Where did you go — any place important?”
“I figured as much,” Mason said. “I went to see a witness. She kept making me offers, saying that she would skip out if my clients would give her some money.”
“Well?” Drake asked.
Mason said, “About the third time she made the proposition, it sounded awfully fishy to me. I walked around the apartment to see if I could find any evidence of its being bugged.”