Mason nodded to Della Street. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ellen Adair, who had been giving Mason driving directions, said, “Turn to the right at this next corner, and it’s the house in the middle of the block.”
“You think your son will be home?” the lawyer asked.
“He should be.”
“And he knows you as...”
“He knows the truth now, but for years he thought I was just a friend of the family, related in some way to the Bairds. He never asked too much about details. He took the relationship for granted and called me ‘Aunt Ellen.’ ”
“All right,” Mason said, “let’s hope he’s home.”
“He will be. He’ll be studying. He has an examination coming up and... Here’s the place.”
The lawyer slid the car beside the curb.
“All right, let’s go. Remember — you say absolutely nothing at any time that would indicate you had been to see Agnes Burlington twice today. You are never, under any circumstances, to tell any human being the things you have told us. All right, now; let’s go up and take a look at this boy.”
They left the car, walked up the cement walk and past the well-kept lawn.
“Who does the work here?” Mason asked. “Your son?”
“I think he hires it done. There’s a gardener. There’s a lot of yard work, you know, and, after all, Wight is busy with his studies.”
Ellen Adair pushed her thumb against the bell button, giving a series of short, sharp rings, then a long ring, then two short rings.
She smiled at Mason. “We have a code so he’ll know who’s at the door.”
They waited for some fifteen seconds and then Ellen Adair said, “Why, that’s strange. He must be home. His car is in the driveway.”
“That his car?” Mason asked, indicating a low-slung sports car.
“Yes.”
“That’s an expensive car,” Mason observed.
“He is very modern, Mr. Mason, and — well, the Bairds left him this money. He... I can’t understand what’s delaying him.”
She pressed the button again, a series of short, sharp rings, then a long ring and a couple of short rings.
Della Street exchanged glances with Perry Mason.
Abruptly from the back of the house a man’s voice called, “Whoo-hoo, I’m coming,” and then a few moments later the door was swung open and a well-built, good-looking young man said, “Aunt Ellen — Mom! What brings you here at this time of night?”
Ellen Adair said, “Wight, I want you to meet Perry Mason, the famous attorney; and this is Della Street, his confidential secretary.”
Wight Baird regarded his visitors with open-mouthed amazement. “Gosh,” he said, “the famous lawyer! What’s all this about?”
Ellen said, “We’re coming in, Wight. We have to talk with you about a matter of great importance.”
“Is all this about the will?” Wight asked.
“Yes.”
“Gee, Mom, is Mr. Mason going to be on our side?”
“He’s going to be on our side,” Ellen said, “but there are lots of complications.”
“I’ll bet,” Wight said. “You get to kicking a couple of million bucks around and there’ll be lots of complications. Come on in.”
He led the way into a living room.
“You were quite a while answering the bell,” Ellen said.
Wight said, “I called out just as soon as you rang the bell.”
“Then you didn’t hear it the first time?”
“You mean you rang twice?”
“Yes.”
“Gosh, no. Aunt Ellen — Mom — I didn’t hear it the first time.”
The sound of a motor starting came from the driveway.
Wight said, somewhat hastily, “I’m cramming for an exam. I’ve been holding my nose to the grindstone all afternoon and evening. I’m about all in. Forgive me if I seem a little dopey. What’s new, Aunt — Mom? Why are you coming here at this hour of the night with Mr. Mason and his secretary?”
Ellen said, “There was a witness that we called on — a rather mature woman who had some information that would have been of value. We went to call on her. Mr. Mason wanted to talk with her.”
“Yeah, sure,” Wight said. “That’s a smart move. Let’s get the evidence rounded up.”
“We got there too late,” Ellen said. “She was dead.”
“Dead!”
“That’s right.”
“How come?”
“She had evidently been murdered,” Mason said.
“Murdered!” Wight exclaimed. “Say, what are you doing — trying to put one over on me? You don’t... good lord!”
Ellen said, “Mr. Mason feels that we may be questioned in some detail, and I wanted to come to you and explain the situation, and Mr. Mason wanted to talk with you.”
“Who was this jane?” Wight asked. “Anybody I know?”
“No one you know,” Ellen said. “She had been a nurse in San Francisco at the time you were born, and—”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Wight interrupted. “You don’t, by any chance, mean Agnes Burlington, do you?”
“Agnes Burlington!” his mother exclaimed. “Do you know her?”
“Why, sure.”
“How did you meet her?” Mason asked.
“She hunted me up,” Wight said.
“How long ago?”
“The first time was just after the Bairds died. She told me that I wasn’t the real son of August Baird, that Mrs. Baird had put up a job on him and palmed me off as his son.
“She said that if the facts were known I’d be penniless. She said that would be a great shame because it wasn’t my fault. She told me then that you were my real mother and a lot of stuff...”
“How much did you agree to pay her?” Mason asked.
“Ten per cent of whatever I inherited from the Bairds.”
“Why, Wight! You never told me about this!” Ellen exclaimed.
“She said not to. She told me not to tell anyone. She warned me against telling you in particular. She said I’d lose everything.”
“You paid her the ten per cent?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“When did you next see her after that?” Mason asked.
“Just a couple of days ago.”
“What did she want?”
“She told me that it might be possible I could inherit a very substantial sum of money and asked me what it would be worth to me percentage-wise if...”
“Why, Wight, you should have told me,” Ellen Adair said.
“Well, to tell you the truth. Mom, I never had much of a chance. I only see you briefly once in a while, and I thought this Burlington dame was talking through her hat, but I told her to go get me some money and she could have her percentage of it.”
“Did she say how much money?” Mason asked.
“She said quite a large sum of money.”
“You knew she had been a nurse in San Francisco?”
“That’s right. That first time she told me that she had been a nurse in San Francisco and she told me that she attended my mother when I was born — and that my parents weren’t the Bairds at all. I let her do the talking. I didn’t say very much.”
“You’re living here in this house alone?” Mason asked.
“That’s right. A woman comes in and keeps things clean; she does the dishes and makes the bed.”
“She comes in every day?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been in all day?” Mason asked.
“That’s right — had my nose buried in books.”
“Ellen Adair here has a key to the place?” Mason asked.
“Why, yes, sure, she has a key. She always rings the code signal when she comes, but she has a key and could get in if she wanted to.”
“If she had something she wanted to hide, is there any place here where she could leave it?”