Mason drummed softly with the tips of his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Interesting,” he observed.
“Isn’t it?” Tragg said acidly.
Mason nodded. “If we concede in advance that all three shots were fired from the same gun and that, therefore, they must have been fired by the same person, we can exclude Leech because he is dead, Matilda Shore because she was in a hospital at the time the last crime was committed, Gerald Shore because he has a perfect alibi for that same period, also Helen Kendal and Jerry Templar. Moreover...”
“I’m quite capable of working out the theory of elimination,” Tragg interrupted. “What I am interested in is your statement that Gerald Shore has an alibi.”
Mason said, “He has.”
“Well, what is it?”
Mason smiled. “You haven’t told me the time the crime was committed.”
“Then how do you know he has an alibi?” Tragg countered quickly.
“That’s right,” Mason said, smiling, “I don’t, do I? Now let’s see. The person who entered that room knew that Mrs. Shore wasn’t in the room, but didn’t know that Helen Kendal knew it.”
“How do you make that deduction?” Tragg asked, interested.
Mason said, “Because he tried to deceive Helen by impersonating Mrs. Shore, and walking across the room just as Mrs. Shore would have done. That proves Gerald Shore couldn’t have done it. Gerald knew that Helen knew her aunt wasn’t in the house.”
Tragg frowned. It was plain that Mason’s reasoning impressed him, and also upset some theory he had formed.
Suddenly the guard at the other end of the room said, “This Jap’s doing a lot of listening, Lieutenant. His ears are sticking out a foot.”
Tragg turned, his face showing annoyance. “Get him out of here.”
Komo bowed. “Excussse please,” he said with dignity. “I am not Japanese. I am Korean. My sentiments for Japanese are not friendly.”
“Get him out!” Tragg repeated.
The guard clapped a hand on Komo’s shoulder. “Come on, Skibby,” he said. “Out!”
Tragg waited until Komo had been escorted from the room to the kitchen. Then he turned to Mason.
“Mason,” he said, “I don’t like your attitude, nor that of your client.”
Mason grinned. “If we’re going to play a game of Truth, Lieutenant, it’s my turn. I don’t like the way you dragged me in here as though I were a second-story man.”
Tragg said, “And perhaps you won’t like what I’m going to do now any better. When my men checked on the Castle Gate Hotel, the clerk said there were three of you in there when the letter was received. Four of you went up to the mountain. Now, why didn’t one of your party want to go in the hotel? Just hold everything a moment.”
Tragg got up, walked out to the telephone in the hallway, leaving the door open behind him. He dialed a number, and after a moment said, “The Castle Gate Hotel? The night clerk?... This is Lieutenant Tragg, Homicide... That’s right... What time did you come on duty last night?... Six o’clock. All right, do you know a man named Gerald Shore?... Let me describe him. About sixty-two years, rather distinguished looking, a high forehead, clean-cut profile, five-feet-eight or eight and a half, weighs a hundred and sixty-five pounds, flowing gray hair which sweeps back from a high fore head, wearing a gray checked suit, a light blue shirt, and a blue-and-red necktie with a black pearl scarf pin... He was! When?... I see... For how long?... I’ll be up and see you within the next half hour. In the meantime, don’t talk with anyone about this.”
Tragg slammed up the telephone receiver and came back to stand where he could look from Gerald Shore to Perry Mason.
“I think I begin to see a very great light,” he said. “Perhaps, Mr. Shore, you will tell me why you went to the Castle Gate Hotel early this evening and waited — and waited — and waited.”
Gerald Shore calmly removed the pipe from his mouth and pointed the stem toward Perry Mason. “He’s my lawyer.”
Tragg nodded. His smile was triumphant.
“Okay, Jerry,” he called to the guard in the hall, “Mr. Mason has got to go. If you see him hanging around remind him that he has an engagement elsewhere — until we meet again, counselor!” Then he held up his hand for attention. “And I’m telling everyone here that as soon as Franklin Shore is found I want him as a witness to testify before the grand jury — and you’ll all kindly remember that.”
Mason turned without a word and started for the front door and opened it. Tragg said to Gerald Shore, “This is going to be about your last chance to say something.”
Mason hesitated, listening for Shore’s reply.
“Have you got a match, Lieutenant?” Shore asked calmly.
The guard bustled Mason out to the front porch. The door slammed shut.
Another officer, evidently waiting to see that he left the grounds promptly, stepped up beside him. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No need to.”
“Oh, I’d better. No telling what might happen around here tonight. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, Mr. Mason.”
Perry walked down the driveway, the officer marching at his side. Peering across the street, he saw only the vacant curb. There was no sign of his automobile nor of Della Street. For a moment only, the lawyer was puzzled. He hesitated just enough to throw the officer out of step with him.
“What is it?” the officer asked.
“Little kink in my leg,” Mason said, walking toward the corner.
“Say, Mr. Mason! Your car’s on the other side. You’d better... Where the hell is your car?”
Mason said, “My chauffeur took it back to the office. I had an errand I wanted done.”
The officer looked at him suspiciously. “Where you goin’ now?”
“I’m going to take a walk — a long walk — to get some air. Would you like to come along?”
Said the officer, with feeling, “Hell, no!”
Chapter 14
Mason’s unlisted telephone was ringing as he opened the door of his apartment. He switched on the lights, crossed over, picked up the receiver and said, “Let’s have it.”
It was Della Street. As soon as she started talking Perry realized that she was in a nervous funk and trying to cover up.
“Gosh, Chief, is that you?” She was off at the tempo of a pneumatic riveter exploding into action. “I think I may be violating the form, force and effect of the statutes in such cases made and provided, and my actions are probably against the peace and dignity of the People of the State of California. I guess I’ve graduated into a full-fledged criminal.”
“They tell me prison is a great experience,” Mason assured her. “You’ll learn a lot.”
Her laugh was high-pitched, and there was a catch in the middle of it.
“Paul Drake warned me that I’d wind up in jail if I went on working for you, but I was too stubborn to listen to him.”
“Well, you haven’t been sentenced yet. What have you done?”
“I’ve k-k-k-kidnaped a witness,” she wailed.
“Done what?”
“Snaked him right from under Lieutenant Tragg’s nose, and am holding him incommunicado.”
“Where?”
“In my automobile — or rather, your automobile.”
“Where are you?”
“At a service station about four blocks from your apartment.”