"There's a phone booth, Paul. Put through the call."
Drake entered the phone booth, put through the call, came back and shook his head, "He hasn't been in yet. You can't tell just when he will come in. The guy has been up all night on a tailing job and it's a long drive from Ensenada up here. He was entitled to get some sleep."
"The police will have a stakeout on your office, Paul, and I don't dare take any chances. You're going to have to go down to that service station and wait- Hang it, we'll both go. They probably have a stakeout on my office as well as on yours. They may figure we'll try to head Fulton off. Come on, Paul, we'll just have to go and wait."
Drake drove through traffic and into the service station. He caught the eye of the manager. "Going to wait around awhile, Jim," he said.
"He hasn't been in yet," the manager said, looking curiously at Perry Mason.
"We want to speed matters up as much as possible," Drake said. "He's a witness, and we want to-"
"Put him in touch with the police at once," Mason interpolated.
"Okay, there's parking room over there next to the grease rack," the man said. "Make yourselves comfortable. You any idea when he's going to be in?"
"He'll be in shortly," Drake said.
Drake backed the car into the space so that they had a commanding view of the gas pumps.
"Want to phone Della Street and let her know where you are?" Drake asked.
Mason shook his head. "We'll keep everyone guessing for a while."
An hour and a half passed; then Drake suddenly gripped Mason's arm. "Here he comes, Perry," he said. "Now, remember we can't do anything that will serve as a peg on which the police can hang a complaint."
Mason's eyes were wide with candor-too wide. "Why, certainly not, Paul! We're only co-operating with the police. Call him over."
While the attendant was putting gasoline in Fulton 's car, Drake caught his eye and called him over.
"Why, hello, Mr. Drake. What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you," Drake said.
"Gosh, I'm sorry. I took just a little shut-eye down in Ensenada before I pulled out. I was afraid I couldn't keep awake and-"
"That's all right," Drake said.
The operative's eyes twinkled. "You certainly get around, Mr. Mason."
Drake said, "He wants to ask you a few questions."
"Go ahead."
Mason said, "You lost Dutton last night on the tailing job?"
"That's right. He drove like crazy. He went through signals, right and left and darn near got me smashed up trying to follow him. I was hoping we'd both get pinched and I could square the pinch by explaining to the officer. It's a chance we have to take."
"And how did you pick him up again?" Mason asked.
"He went to a phone booth and I bugged the phone booth with a little bug that fits right up snug against the glass with a rubber suction cup. A transistor wire recorder is suspended underneath."
"And what did you find?"
"He said he was going out to the Barclay Country Club and would meet someone on tee number seven. I've reported all that."
"I want it official this time," Mason said. "You didn't spot him out there?"
"Not right away. His car was there."
"You tried to get in?"
"I tried the door to see if it was unlocked."
"Was it?"
"No. There was a spring lock on it."
"So you waited?"
"That's right."
"How long did you wait?"
"Twelve minutes."
"And then what?"
"And then he came out."
"How did he act when he came out, excited?"
"He seemed to be- Well, he was in a hurry. He knew exactly what he wanted to do."
"He didn't pay any attention to you?"
"I was sitting pretty well in the shadows back in my car. That is, I'd crawled over in the back seat so I wasn't at all conspicuous."
"There were other cars parked around there?"
"Half a dozen, I guess."
"You didn't take the license numbers?"
"No, I spotted Dutton's car there, and he was the one I was tailing so I didn't pay any attention to the others-no one told me to."
"That's all right," Mason said. "We're not blaming you, but can you describe the cars?"
"Why, they were just-just ordinary cars."
"No car that stood out, not a sport job, or some big flashy job?"
"No, as I remember it, they were all rather mediocre-I took them for cars belonging to employees who slept in on the premises. There weren't too many of them-I guess three would just about hit it, but there may have been four."
"All right," Mason said, "we don't have much time. We have to hit the high spots. Dutton came out, got in his car and drove away?"
"That's right."
"You tailed along?"
"Yes."
"Any trouble?"
"Just once. I started following him with my lights off. Dutton stopped his car rather suddenly and then backed up. There was nothing for me to do but to keep on going."
"So you lost him again?"
"No, I didn't lose him. I got down the road, pulled off to one side, put out a red blinker, got out a jack and jacked up the rear bumper. I made as if I was changing a tire. I kept my eye on him all the time."
"How far away was he?"
"Oh, half a mile, I guess."
"His lights were on?"
"Yes."
"You couldn't see him, you could only see the headlights?"
"That's right."
"He just stopped?"
"Yes"
"Then what happened?"
"Well, then he got in his car and went on."
"What did you do?"
"I stood there helpless and let him pass. Then when he got ahead of me, I let the car down off the jack fast, threw the jack in the rear seat, jumped in and took off after him. In a case of that sort the subject hardly expects a crippled car to come to life and take off after him, so he isn't suspicious."
"And you tailed him, how far?"
"All the way to the border and then on to Ensenada."
"Did he make any stops?"
"Once for a cup of coffee and a hamburger."
"What did you do?"
"Sat outside the place, parked in my car, and drooled," the detective said. "That coffee looked so darn good, I would have given a week's pay for a cup, but I didn't dare let him spot me so I had to sit outside and wait until he came out."
"Do you think he knew he was being tailed?"
"I don't think so. I would drop behind for a way and then come up, and I passed him once or twice where I could keep his headlights in my windshield and pulled in to a coffee joint as though I was getting coffee, but as soon as he passed me I took up the chase again."
"Now, that wire recording," Mason said, "you have it?"
"Yes."
"The police want it."
"I wondered if they would. I was going to ask Drake what to do with it."
Mason said, "Go to the office. Don't tell anyone that you have seen either Drake or me unless you are asked specifically. If you are asked by the police, don't lie. Tell them that I was waiting for you and that I told you I wanted you to take your evidence to the police at once; that they were anxiously awaiting it."
"I don't say anything about Mr. Drake?"
"Not unless they ask you specifically. If they ask you if you've talked with anyone, tell them you talked with me. If they ask you if anyone was with me, you can tell them Paul Drake was, but just don't volunteer any information. On the other hand, appear to be very cooperative."
Fulton nodded.
"Now then," Mason said, "why did Dutton bring his car to a stop and back up? Any idea?"
"No, I haven't," Fulton said, "but I checked on my speedometer."
Mason's face brightened. "You did?"
"That's right. He was on Crenmore when he stopped, exactly one and three-tenths miles from the entrance to Barclay Country Club."