“No.”
“You can look it up. It’s a cheap hotel. Don’t be frightened. Bring Mason to that hotel, ask for Henry Leech. He’ll take you to me. Don’t let anyone else know about this conversation or what’s happening. Be sure you aren’t followed. Tell Mason everything, but swear him to secrecy. I’ll...”
She heard a quick, gasping intake of breath. Abruptly, the receiver clicked at the other end of the line, and there was only that peculiar singing of an open telephone line. She jiggled the receiver hook several times.
“Operator,” she called. “Operator!”
Through the partially opened door, Helen heard the unmistakable sounds of her aunt’s approach, the slow, labored steps, the steady thump... thump... thump of the cane, the dragging shuffle of the right foot.
Hastily, she hung up the receiver.
“Who is it?” Aunt Matilda asked, entering the hall as Helen turned away from the telephone.
“I think it’s a date,” Helen said, trying to sound casual.
Aunt Matilda lowered her eyes to Helen’s right hand. “How did that cat happen to scratch you?” she asked. “You’re lying to protect it. I’m not going to keep it if it’s becoming vicious.”
“Don’t be silly,” Helen said. “I tell you, I was teasing it with a piece of paper.”
“Well, it had no business scratching you. Was that your soldier boy on the telephone?”
Helen laughed evasively.
“What are you so excited about? You’re all flushed.” She shrugged her heavy shoulders contemptuously. “It would be just like that fool, Jerry Templar, to propose to a girl over the telephone. It wouldn’t surprise me at that... Helen, what in heaven’s name is the matter with that kitten?”
Helen sighed wearily. “I told you it was my fault. I...”
“No, no! Look at him!”
Helen moved over, impelled by her aunt’s fixed stare.
“He’s just playing,” she said. “Kittens play that way.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s playing to me.”
“Kittens do that when they’re stretching. They have to flex their little muscles. They...”
Helen felt the words fading from her tongue as she lost assurance. The kitten was acting most peculiarly, its motions very different from the stretches by which kittens coax their immature muscles into growth. The little spine arched backwards. The paws were stretched out to the fullest extent. Little spasms sent tremors through the body. But what arrested Helen’s attention and filled her with apprehension was the expression in the amber eyes, the manner in which the kitten’s jaws were clamped together, bits of froth oozing from beneath curled, pale lips.
“Oh, dear, something’s wrong! Amber Eyes is sick!” she exclaimed.
Matilda Shore said, “Don’t go near it. The cat’s gone mad. Cats do that just the same as dogs. You’d better go see a doctor at once about that hand.”
“Nonsense!” Helen said. “The kitten’s sick... Poor little Amber Eyes. What’s the matter? Did you hurt yourself some way?”
Helen reached down to the rigid little body. As soon as her fingers touched the fur, the cat went into a very definite convulsion.
“I’m going to take that cat to a veterinary right away,” Helen said.
“You watch out. You’ll get hurt,” Aunt Matilda warned.
“I’ll take care of that,” Helen promised, dashing to the closet and struggling into her coat.
“You get something to wrap that cat in,” Aunt Matilda said, “so it can’t scratch you.”
“Komo... Oh, Komo”
The swarthy little man materialized almost at once in the doorway.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Helen said, “Get an old blanket or a quilt out of the closet. Something to wrap the cat in.”
Komo regarded the kitten with a peculiar expression in his lacquered eyes.
“Kitten sick?” he asked.
“Don’t stand there asking foolish questions,” Matilda said impatiently. “Of course the kitten’s sick. Do what Miss Helen told you. Get that blanket.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Helen hastily adjusted her hat in front of the mirror, then stooped to bend over the kitten.
“Keep away from him,” Matilda warned. “I don’t like the way he’s acting.”
“What is it, Amber Eyes?” Helen asked, her voice soothing.
The cat’s eyes were staring fixedly, but at the sound of Helen’s voice, he made a slight motion as though to turn his head. That little motion brought on another of those swift spasms, this time more violent.
Just as Komo brought the blanket, Helen heard steps on the outer porch. The door opened. Her uncle, Gerald Shore, crossed the reception hallway to the living room, taking off his hat and light coat as he moved.
“Hello, everybody,” he said cheerfully. “What seems to be the trouble?”
There was reassurance in Gerald Shore’s deeply resonant voice. It never seemed necessary for him to raise that voice, yet he could be plainly heard, no matter how large the room.
“It’s Amber Eyes,” Helen said. “He’s sick.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“We don’t know. He’s having spasms. I’m taking him to a veterinary,” Helen said. “I’m... Here, Komo, help me get the blanket around the cat. Watch out he doesn’t bite now.”
They wrapped the blanket around the kitten. Helen clasped the tense little body to her and could feel another spasm tighten the muscles as she started for the door.
“Come on,” Gerald Shore said. “I’ll drive the car. You can hold the cat.”
“The cat’s already scratched Helen,” Matilda said.
“Cats can go mad just the same as dogs do,” Matilda insisted.
Komo, smiling and nodding, said, “Fits. Excussse, please. All cats have fits. This very typical cat fit.”
Helen turned to her Uncle Gerald. “Come on. Please let’s get started.”
Matilda Shore said to the houseboy, “Komo, you’ve let me run out of stout again. Now you go all the way uptown to the market and get me six bottles. Don’t disturb me when you come back. I’ll lie down until dinner. Helen, don’t take on so over that kitten. Find a better outlet for your affections. Now get started, all of you.”
She entered her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
“Come on, Helen,” Uncle Gerald said sympathetically.
Suddenly Helen remembered the telephone call. Curiously, she had forgotten it completely in the excitement over Amber Eyes. In a way it seemed unreal, like something that had never happened.
Uncle Franklin!
As soon as she took care of Amber Eves, she would try to reach this Perry Mason.
Chapter 2
Gerald Shore had never had his brother’s flair for making money, or rather, for keeping money. Where Franklin had watched his ever-growing fortune with the tight-lipped determination of a man who knows how to say no, Gerald had spent money recklessly on the “easy come, easy go” theory.
Prior to 1929, Gerald had considered himself a wealthy man. Within a few short weeks, he not only had been completely stripped of his property, but had found himself dependent upon his law practice to give him even a living. This period of transition had been most embarrassing. Having adjusted his practice on the theory that he would not waste his time with small cases, that he would see clients by appointment only, and would take only such cases as interested him, Gerald suddenly found himself eager to accept any honorable employment where there was even a fair possibility of a fee.
Holding the kitten close, feeling the convulsive waves that racked its little body, Helen thought gratefully that Uncle Gerald was more sympathetic, more understanding, than any man she knew. She wondered if he had always been like this. Certainly his difficulties and his trouble had not hardened him. It seemed even that since the crash he had been more gentle, more tolerant, than before. Whereas Aunt Matilda’s idea was for Komo to put the kitten out of the way, Uncle Gerald obviously recognized a major emergency that relegated traffic laws to the background. It was but a matter of minutes before they had Amber Eyes in the hands of a competent veterinary.