“Upon being advised that Miss Corning was at the airport, that a telegram had been sent announcing an earlier date of arrival and upon being unable to get in touch with Mr. Campbell, she dashed out to the airport.
“There she found a woman who apparently had a very striking physical resemblance to you seated in a wheelchair, surrounded by baggage bearing the labels of South American hotels and South American airlines. She escorted this woman to this suite of rooms and the woman insisted on going almost immediately to the office in order to check into certain things.”
“What happened?” Miss Corning asked.
“This woman showed a surprising familiarity with the business. She inquired about various details, then she sent Susan Fisher down to buy some suitcases and put certain vouchers and books of account in those suitcases and then vanished. There is a possibility that she took with her a fairly large sum of money from the safe. We can’t be certain about that.”
“Why can’t you be certain about it?”
“Because the origin of that money is shrouded in a certain amount of mystery.”
“All right,” Miss Corning said, “where do you come in?”
“I’m representing Susan Fisher.”
“Does she need an attorney?”
“She may need an attorney.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Mason said, “she may have let an impostor into the office; she may have been the victim of an impersonation and turned over certain vouchers and books of account and permitted them to leave the office.”
“Why all that hurried activity on a Saturday?” Miss Corning asked.
“Frankly,” Mason said, “because there is some reason to believe that there may have been irregularities in the operation of the company. Take, for instance, the mine in the Mojave Desert known as the Mojave Monarch. That mine—”
“That mine,” Miss Corning interrupted firmly, “needs looking into. You don’t need to go on to tell me any more about that, Mr. Mason. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. Now then, where’s Endicott Campbell?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “Frankly, I was somewhat anticipating your arrival at the airport and the man who met you was one who is in my employ rather than in the employ of the company.”
“And you think somebody is going to make trouble for this young woman client of yours?”
“Mr. Campbell has indicated as much.”
“All right,” Miss Corning said, “let’s get hold of Mr. Campbell and let’s get hold of this young woman. Where’s this very efficient secretary of yours? Is she here?”
“Right here,” Della Street said.
“All right,” Miss Corning said. “I presume you know the number of your client’s telephone. Here are some numbers that Mr. Campbell gave me where he can be reached in case he’s not at home. However, this is his home number and you can try that first. Now, let’s get both of them up here.”
Della Street started putting through the telephone calls.
Mason said, “Of course, Miss Corning, in view of your large holdings in the company, regardless of what Mr. Campbell may feel should be done, the ultimate fate of Susan Fisher rests very largely in your hands.”
“That’s right,” Miss Corning said. “You don’t need to waste time pointing out the obvious to me, Mr. Mason. That’s why I want to get her up here. My eyes aren’t too good, but I’m a pretty good judge of voices. Now that I can’t see so well, I have to make up for it by listening. After I hear a person talk I can tell whether I want to trust that person or not. My judgment isn’t infallible but it suits me all right.
“And I’ll tell you something else. The reason I’m here is that I called up Endicott Campbell on international long-distance telephone and I didn’t like the sound of his voice. There was a certain equivocation in his voice that I didn’t like. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect himself or someone else, but... well, I’m here to find out.”
Della Street reported, “Endicott Campbell isn’t at home. The housekeeper who is there doesn’t know where he is. She’s there alone. Elizabeth Dow, the governess, Carleton Campbell, the young son, and Endicott Campbell are all out somewhere.”
“Together?” Mason asked.
“She doesn’t know,” Della Street said.
“What about Susan Fisher, Della?”
“I got Miss Fisher on the line and told her to get up here right away She’s corning up immediately.”
“All right,” Miss Corning said. “Now, I’m going to do this freshening up you were talking about. If this secretary of yours, Mr. Mason, wouldn’t mind assisting a somewhat helpless old woman, we’ll retire to one of the bedrooms. You can sit here in the room which I believe is still known as a parlor in hotel lingo. I don’t want to have anyone else around. Just sit here and wait, Mr. Mason, and I’ll be out shortly. In the meantime, if that young woman client of yours comes in, just tell her to sit down and be comfortable, and that we’ll be out before too very long.
“Now then,” she said, turning to Della, “your name is Della Street?”
“That’s right,” Della said.
“Would you mind corning in the bedroom with me and helping me unpack? My eyes are just no good at all and it’s difficult to unpack by feeling... Oh, I can see outlines and get a vague impression of faces, but bright light bothers me and I can’t see anything in a half-light. I’m getting worse all the time. I have to rely more and more on a sense of touch.”
“I’ll be glad to do anything I can to help,” Della Street said.
“You have loyalty and efficiency,” Miss Corning announced, “and unless I’m very much mistaken, you have a great deal of ability. Come along now.”
The women retired to the bedroom. Mason settled back in one of the comfortable chairs, tried to relax but couldn’t, then got up and started thoughtfully pacing the floor.
The lawyer was still pacing when knuckles tapped gently on the outer door. Mason opened it and a frightened Susan Fisher stood in the hallway.
“Come in,” Mason said.
She entered the room, looking around apprehensively.
“They’re in the bedroom unpacking and Miss Corning is freshening up,” Mason said.
“How bad is it?” Sue Fisher asked.
“Not bad at all — at least not so far. Miss Corning is a very well-balanced, unemotional woman who gives the impression of being most considerate.”
“Has Mr. Campbell got hold of her yet?”
“No,” Mason said. “As far as I know, Campbell has no idea that she is in the city. He’s expecting her tomorrow.”
“How did you know she was here?”
Mason grinned and said, “I anticipated it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Mason said, “I knew she was due to arrive tomorrow and I thought she might arrive a day ahead of time. So Paul Drake had men at the airport waiting for her to arrive. When she showed up, Drake’s man stepped forward and met her and told her he’d take charge of her baggage and promptly proceeded to notify Paul Drake, who, in turn, notified me. And here we are.”
“You mean you thought all that out in advance?”
“There wasn’t anything much to think out in advance,” Mason said. “We knew that Miss Corning was going to show up at the airport and I wanted to have an opportunity to tell her your side of the story before Endicott Campbell told her his side of the story. That’s all there was to it.”
Susan Fisher impulsively took Mason’s hand in both of hers. “I think you’re absolutely wonderful,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”