“Find any?”
“No. They were too smart. A bug is hard to locate, but usually when one is installed on a hurry up job, a little fine plaster dust will adhere to the baseboard.”
“Then you think this witness was planted?”
“No,” Mason said slowly, “I don’t think she was a plant. I think she’s a witness, but she may be trying to buy her way out of something with the police. You know, if they could catch me in a scheme to spirit a witness out of the country, they’d let her get off to a running start, then drag her back with a big fanfare of trumpets, and the fact that I’d tried to get rid of her would raise the devil with my client and with me. Her testimony would automatically become the most important evidence in the case.”
“You didn’t fall for it?”
“Hell, no!”
Drake said, “I’ve got those pictures here.”
“Have you got an extra gun around there anywhere, Paul?”
“Why, yes.”
“One you don’t think much of?”
“I have a couple of cheap revolvers that some of my operatives took away from ambitious lads who played with grown up toys. Why?”
“How far,” Mason asked, “could you throw one?”
“Shucks, I don’t know, a hundred feet perhaps.”
“Ever tried it?”
“No, of course not.”
Mason said, “Better get Della Street, Paul, and meet me at that restaurant where I sometimes eat lunch. Della knows the place. Had anything to eat?”
“Yes, I grabbed a bite.”
“Well, I’ll take a taxi there, eat something, and be ready to go. I think Della will have had dinner.”
“I doubt it,” Drake said. “She was all worked up about getting word to you about those shadows. Where are they now, Perry? Did you ditch them?”
“Damned if I know,” Mason said. “Probably not. I looked around but didn’t spot anyone. However, a man came through the door of the apartment house when I was ringing the bell for this girl’s apartment. He may have been one of them.”
“What’ll that mean, Perry?” Drake asked. “Anything serious?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” Mason said. “I can’t afford to waste time figuring what the other man is going to do. I have to work fast.”
Drake said, “I have some hot dope on Eversel.”
“What is it?”
“His plane went out and returned twice — once before and once after the rain.”
“You’re sure?” Mason asked.
“Yes. One of my operatives got the chief gardener of the estate to give him a job as an assistant. It’s a steady job. He’s on the place, so he can get anything we want.”
“Can you call him?” Mason asked.
“No, I can’t call him, but he calls me for instructions.”
“Okay,” Mason said. “I have an idea or two. Get your stuff together, pick up Della, and meet me at the restaurant. See you there. Goodbye.”
He went out to stand in the doorway of the hotel. He saw no one who seemed to be taking any undue interest in his motions.
Mason summoned a taxi and went to the restaurant where he had time for a sandwich, coffee, and piece of pie before Paul Drake joined him.
“Della with you?” Mason asked.
“Yes, sitting outside in the car.”
“Has she had anything to eat?”
“She grabbed a sandwich and says she’s not hungry now.”
“Did you bring that gun?”
“Yes.”
Mason said, “Let’s get a couple of five cell flashlights. I want to see how far I can throw that gun.”
“Where are you going to do the pitching?” Paul Drake asked.
“Down where Anders did.”
Drake surveyed Mason with alarm. “That,” he said, “may be dangerous.”
“Why?”
“It might not sound good in court.”
Mason said, “Love letters don’t sound good in court, but people go on writing them just the same.”
“Go to it,” Drake said. “It’s your party Were you followed here, Perry?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure,” Mason said. “I went through the usual manoeuvres without turning up anybody.”
On the way out to the car, Drake said, “My operative out at Eversel’s estate certainly had a lucky break. The gardener’s a Scot. He’s sort of a privileged character, has a little cottage of his own and isn’t really classed as one of the servants.”
“Where does your operative stay?” Mason asked.
“In a room in the basement.”
“Find out anything?”
“Lots. The gardener didn’t go on the whoopee party with the servants, although he was supposed to. He’s just about as taciturn as a granite rock — unless, like my man, MacGregor, you happen to come from a certain section of Scotland.”
They stepped out to the kerb. Mason saw Della Street sitting in Drake’s automobile, grinned, and said, “Hi, Della.”
She said, “Gosh, I was worried about you. I was afraid you were going to walk right into a trap.”
Mason said, “I may have at that. What did your man find out, Paul?”
Drake slid in behind the wheel. Mason eased in beside him. Della made herself comfortable in the back seat.
“Where to?” Drake asked.
“Down to the place where Anders says he threw the gun,” Mason said. “You might see if anyone’s on our tail, Paul.”
“Okay,” Drake said. “Do I get violent about it and let them know we’re wise to them?”
Mason thought for a minute, then shook his head and said, “No. Do it casually, Paul. Pretend that we’re looking for an address. That’ll give you a chance to do a little turning and twisting.”
“Okay,” Drake said, “but my hunch is they won’t try to follow us if they haven’t quit already. A wise shadow usually checks out when the man he’s after steers a zigzag course, no matter what the pretext — that is, unless he’s told that it doesn’t make any difference whether the suspect spots him or not.”
“Well,” Mason said, “you do whatever you can get away with and make it look innocent. What about the gardener at Eversel’s?”
Gliding out into traffic, Drake said, “The gardener opened up. It seems that after the servants had left, Eversel came in with his car. After a while he took his plane, went somewhere, and came back. When he came back, a woman was with him. My operative thinks the gardener knows who it was, but the gardener wouldn’t say. Understand, my man had to beat around the bush getting this out of him.”
“I understand,” Mason said. “Give me what you have, and we’ll fill in the blanks.”
“Well, Eversel came home with this woman and went directly to a room that Eversel keeps fitted up as a darkroom. It seems he’s quite a camera fiend.”
“Mrs. Wentworth still with him?” Mason asked.
“The woman, whoever she was.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then it started to rain. Eversel went down and warmed up the motor on the plane. About fifteen minutes later, they took off. He was gone nearly all night, came back along toward morning. He came back alone.”
Mason said, “Mrs. Wentworth was supposed to have been in San Diego.”
“Uh huh,” Drake said. “The plane could have taken her down rather easily. I have my San Diego correspondents checking to find out if the plane was seen there.”
“Where was Eversel’s yacht?”
“Apparently moored in the outer yacht harbour.”
“What speed does she turn up?”
“About two knots an hour faster than Wentworth’s boat at cruising speed, and she can go about five knots faster.”
“Where was Mrs. Wentworth staying in San Diego, Paul?”
“On a yacht with some friends. She also had a room at one of the hotels. You know how it is on a yacht, Perry. You have lots of conveniences, but it’s hard to take baths, get beauty appointments, and things like that. Many of the women get a room and spend part of the time there when their yachts are in a city. Sometimes they’ll all pitch in and get a room together.”