“What do you mean by everything?”
“Time of death, clues, means of death, motives, opportunities, alibis — and locate Milicent Hardisty, the widow of the victim.”
Drake said, “Is that last job a bit of routine?”
“No.”
“You mean it may be difficult?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the i I’m supposed to dot?”
“Also the t you’re to cross. There’s a probability it may have to be a double cross.”
“I take it there’s no use looking in the usual places?”
“Right — and don’t be fooled by information to the contrary.”
“Okay Perry, where will you be?”
“Kenvale Hotel, at least until we get things straightened out. If I’m not here, Della will be.”
“Who’s your client?”
“Vincent P. Blane.”
“Any chance that he did it?”
“The police haven’t said so.”
Drake said, “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You just think it doesn’t”
Mason hung up the telephone, waited another five minutes, then impatiently called the Blane residence.
“This is Perry Mason, the lawyer,” he said to the feminine voice who answered the telephone. “Is Miss Adele Blane there?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re the housekeeper?”
“Yes, sir. Martha Stevens.”
Mason said, “Mr. Blane was to meet me here in the hotel. He’s evidently been detained. Have you heard anything from him?”
“No, sir.”
“Is Mrs. Hardisty there?”
“Yes, sir. She’s here in the house, but there are strict orders that she isn’t to be disturbed. She was hysterical last night, and had some sleeping tablets.”
Mason smiled, said, “That’s fine. I won’t bother her... Have there been any other calls asking for her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many?”
“Oh, there must have been half a dozen.”
“Friends?”
“No, sir. Strange voices who wouldn’t leave names.”
“Men or women?”
“Both.”
Mason said, “All right, if you hear anything from Mr. Blane, directly or indirectly, call me at the Kenvale Hotel.”
He hung up and was just leaving the telephone booth when the lobby door was pushed open explosively. A small group erupted into the lobby, Blane and Jameson in the lead. Blane’s face lit up with relief as he saw Mason. Jameson kept at Blane’s side as the pudgy, harassed businessman crossed over to the lawyer.
Mason kept his voice casual, as he said to Blane, “You seem to pick up more people as you keep traveling.”
Blane’s eyes held desperate appeal. “These are witnesses,” he explained quickly. “Miss Strague and her brother and Mr. Beaton. They live up around there.”
Mason said, “You folks look rather hot and flustered. How about coming up to my room where it’s cool and where we can have a drink?”
The deputy said, “I’m afraid there isn’t time for that, Mr. Mason. Mr. Blane has adopted a very peculiar attitude.”
“What is it?”
“Miss Strague has found the weapon with which the murder was committed. Mr. Beaton was with her at the time.”
Mason, sparring for time, made a little bow to Lola Strague. “Congratulations. Evidently you did some high-class detective work... May I ask where it was?”
“Lying in the pine needles on the other side of that rock near which Mr. Raymand says the clock was buried.”
“We don’t need to go into all that now,” Jameson interjected hastily. “The point is, there’s evidence linking this gun with Jack Hardisty’s wife.”
“Is that so?” Mason asked, his voice showing only casual interest. “What’s the evidence?”
Blane nodded to Beaton.
Beaton interposed hurriedly, “Of course, gentlemen, I won’t swear that it was a gun she had in her hand, but I drove past her last evening. She was standing on the main road, and had something in her hand. At the time I thought it was a wrench, that her car might have broken down. I was going to ask her if she needed help, but just then she drew her arm back and tossed this gun — if it was a gun — down into the canyon. Her face was contorted with emotion. She looked at me as I drove past, without showing the slightest sign of recognition. I doubt if she even saw me, although I raised my hat.”
“What time was this?” Mason asked.
“Somewhere between six-fifteen and dark. Up in the mountains we don’t bother much about time. I carry a cheap watch. Sometimes I wind it, and sometimes I don’t. When it’s running, I usually set it by the sun, so I’m not going to stick my neck out on a statement of time that could be twisted around by a lot of lawyers on cross-examination.”
Beaton’s eyes twinkled amiably at Mason, the network of crows-feet springing into quick prominence. “No hard feelings, Mr. Mason.”
“None at all,” Mason grinned. “I think you’d be a hard witness to cross-examine.”
Beaton said, “Mrs. Payson was in the car with me. We were going in to Kenvale together. We went to dinner and a show. She may be able to tell you what time it was, although she didn’t see Mrs. Hardisty toss the gun down in the canyon.”
“You think this was after six?” Mason asked.
“I know it was after six-fifteen because Mrs. Payson was listening to a radio program that came on at six and went off the air at six-fifteen. She made me wait until the thing was over before she’d leave... And that’s as close as I can fix it.”
“All this is beside the point,” the deputy said. “I want to talk with Mrs. Hardisty. Blane acts as though he believed his daughter was guilty.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Blane retorted angrily. “I’m simply trying to protect my daughter’s health.”
“Well, you rushed to the telephone and got Perry Mason down here in a hurry,” the deputy charged, also getting angry. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what that means.”
Mason smiled affably. “Well now, gentlemen,” he said, “I wasn’t born yesterday, but I’m not certain that I know what it means.”
“It means Blane is trying to—”
“Yes?” Mason invited as the deputy stopped abruptly.
“I’m not sticking my neck out,” Jameson said somewhat sullenly. “I’m just a resident deputy down here. There’ll be someone on hand from the main office... I’ve looked for them to be here before this. I— Here they come now.”
The door was pushed open. Two men came barging over toward the group, moving with grim purpose like warships plowing through sea toward a convoy.
Mason said to the deputy, “Doubtless, you’ll want to explain the situation to these gentlemen. While you’re doing that, I’ll confer with my client.”
He scooped his hand through Blane’s arm, drew him off slightly to one side, said, “Okay, Blane, this is the pay-off.”
When Blane spoke, he was so nervous his lips quivered. “It’s her gun, Mason,” he said. “I recognized it.”
“What have you told them?”
“I’ve told them I would have to consult you before letting them know where my daughter was... This is terrible, Mason. They’ll find out that Milicent has disappeared now. There’s no way we can stall it off any longer.”
“You haven’t any idea where she is?”
“No.”
“Well, you’ve got to let them go to your house — and then bluff it out. Remember I’ll be with you. When they find the darkened bedroom with a bed that hasn’t been slept in, they’ll start acting rough. When the going gets too tough for you, let me step in and handle it.”