Judge Knox said, “Personally, Mason, I think it’s a most remarkable piece of detective work, an example of sheer deductive genius.”
Mason shook his head. “I’ll never forgive myself for becoming so engrossed in the incidental matters. After all, Judge, that’s one thing a detective should guard against. He should never let his attention become so concentrated on the incidental matters that he feels they are other than mere incidentals.”
Judge Knox studied him curiously. “What,” he asked, “were the incidental matters which so engrossed you?”
“Minor matters,” Mason said, vaguely, “interesting but purely incidental.”
Judge Knox smiled. “Are you, by any chance, referring to the identity of John Milicant as Bill Hogarty?”
Mason said, “That really was a surprise to me, although I should have appreciated the significance of that clue of the frostbitten foot.”
Judge Knox let the smile fade from his lips, although his eyes remained kindly.
“Mason,” he said, “the proof that Milicant was Hogarty certainly seems rather vague and sketchy. If Milicant had been blackmailing Leeds, and one of Leeds’ relatives had called on him for an explanation, wouldn’t it have been only natural for Milicant to have used the documents in his possession to substantiate a spurious claim made by way of justification to the nephew that he actually was the Bill Hogarty who had been wronged by Leeds years ago? Wouldn’t this be the logical way to fabricate a justification for blackmail?”
Mason’s face showed surprise. “That,” he said, “is an interesting question.”
“And do you want me to understand that you have never given it any consideration?” the judge asked.
“Well,” Mason said with a grin, “no oral consideration.”
Judge Knox sighed. “Mason, I confess to a liking for you. I like the colorful life you lead. I like the dashing way you shortcut the conventional methods. I like your career of adventurous excitement. But has it ever occurred to you that Kittering’s prophecy is undoubtedly correct? The time will come when you will find yourself defending a guilty client.”
Mason arose from his chair. He saw fit to favor the judge with a grin. “He won’t be guilty,” he said, “until they prove him guilty.”
Knox sighed. “I’m afraid you’re incorrigible.”
Mason bowed. “Thank you, Your Honor,” he said, “for the compliment.”
Chapter 15
Mason sat in his office, reading the afternoon paper. The sob sisters had literally “gone to town” on the story. Many of the facts which were set forth had been obtained through an interview with Perry Mason, attorney for Alden Leeds, and the reporters reciprocated this donation of information by singing extravagant praises of the manner in which Perry Mason had solved a puzzling case.
Alden Leeds and Bill Hogarty had been in the Yukon in 1906 and 1907. They had fought over a woman. Hogarty had tried to kill Leeds. Leeds had shot him in self-defense. Hogarty had crawled away into the dark, and when it came daylight, Leeds had been unable to find him. It was a wild country.
Leeds had a fortune in gold which he dared not leave. Nor did he dare to leave the country without reporting the shooting. He was trapped. So he took the name of Hogarty and left the country. He married the girl under the name of Hogarty.
But Hogarty had not been killed, despite what the others had thought. He had lain desperately ill in the cabin of an Indian. He had shown great determination in journeying to civilization, seeking revenge. Twice on that trip, he had been near the point of death. When finally he had reached civilization, his foot had become frostbitten, and it had been necessary to remove several of the toes on his right foot.
He had carried on his quest for vengeance. In the meantime, Alden Leeds and his wife had separated. Hogarty finally found the woman, but, because she was legally married and not divorced, he had entered into her life, posing as her brother. Then they had found Leeds.
Emily Milicant had realized she was still in love with him. Hogarty, posing as Emily’s brother, wanted blackmail. Leeds, finding himself in this position, had tried his best to work out some fair settlement with Hogarty. His relatives, recognizing the quick, romantic attachment which had sprung up between Leeds and Emily Milicant, and naturally misinterpreting it, had sought to thwart a marriage by having Leeds declared incompetent.
In the meantime, the implacable Hogarty, under the name of Conway, had built up a lottery business which he had sold to Serle. A disgruntled customer had tipped off the police, thinking to get revenge on Conway, in place of which, the trap had closed on Serle, and Serle, in turn, had made demands on Hogarty. When Hogarty laughed at those demands, Serle planned to get his money back from Hogarty. Not being able to do it, save by resorting to murder, he had planned a deliberate crime which, under ordinary circumstances, he could have committed so as to give himself a perfect alibi. It was the ingenuity of Mason’s spectacular courtroom tactics which had punctured that alibi.
Della Street entered Mason’s office as he was finishing with the paper. “Alden Leeds, his wife, Phyllis Leeds, and Ned Barkler are in the office, Chief,” she said. “The police have just released them.”
“Tell Gertie to send them in,” Mason said.
Mason smiled genially as they crowded about him, shaking hands, showering congratulations. When the first excitement had died away, and Mason was able to get his callers seated, Leeds said, “Mason, I want you to do everything possible to protect Emily. The authorities have been working on that old murder case. The understanding, by which she was released and under which I was released, was that if Alaska wanted us, we would still be held to answer on that old charge.”
Mason grinned. “Don’t you see?” he said. “There isn’t any old charge. They can’t charge either of you with the murder of Bill Hogarty because Bill Hogarty was killed on the seventh of this month by Guy T. Serle. Here’s a press dispatch which says so.”
Leeds knitted his frosty eyebrows for a moment in thought, then glanced up at Mason with a smile. “I see,” he said. “You apparently managed to kill two birds with one stone.”
Mason grinned. “I didn’t kill ’em,” he said. “I resurrected ’em so I could give my clients clean bills of health.”
Alden Leeds whipped a checkbook from his pocket. “I have only one way of expressing my gratitude,” he said.
Mason nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “And while you’re about it, don’t forget that it might be well to make some arrangement for Marcia Whittaker. After all, you know, Leeds, you can’t take it with you.”
Leeds, shaking ink down to the point of his fountain pen, said, “When you see the amount of this check, Mason, you’ll realize I’m not trying to.”
Mason took the loaded dice from his pocket, rolled them casually across the top of the desk, and watched the figures five and seven show up with amazing regularity.
Ned Barkler gave a dry chuckle. Mason looked up inquiringly.
“Seeing you rolling those bones,” the prospector said, “makes me think of something.”
“What?”
“Bill Hogarty,” he said. “Probably you’re wondering why I made a dash to San Francisco — It goes back to something nobody ever inquired about — How I happened to meet Alden Leeds in the first place. It was over a pair of crooked dice.”
Alden Leeds blotted the check he had just written, started totaling figures on the stub and said, “Go ahead and tell him, Ned.”