Erle Stanley Gardner
The Case of the Daring Decoy
Foreword
For the most part I have dedicated my Perry Mason books to outstanding figures in the field of legal medicine. But this book is dedicated to a doctor of medicine; one of the kindest, most considerate men I have ever met. He reached the top of the ladder in his chosen profession, and then, in place of taking up golf or yachting, turned his razor-keen mind to a “spare time” study of the problems of evidence, of law enforcement and the part the citizen could and should play in co-operating with the various law-enforcement agencies.
Merton M. Minter, M.D., is a Diplomate of the American Board of Internal Medicine, a member of the Board of Regents of the University of Texas, and, in fact, holds so many offices in the field of education, banking and medicine that there isn’t room to list them here.
I am writing this because I wish more of the influential members of the medical profession would follow in Doctor Minter’s steps. We need their sharp minds, their diagnostic skills, their seasoned judgment in the field of better law enforcement and the better administration of justice.
And so I dedicate this book to one of the most sympathetic, courteous, and thoughtful doctors in the world, a man who is rounding out his career doing good for his fellow man in the fields of medicine, education, law enforcement and justice, my friend,
MERTON MELROSE MINTER, M.D.
— Erle Stanley Gardner
Chapter One
Jerry Conway opened the paper to page six.
There it was, just as it had been every day for the last week.
It was a half-page ad signed: PROXY HOLDERS BOARD OF SALVAGE, cleverly written, starting off with a statement that was manifestly true on the face of it:
You stockholders of the California & Texas Global Development & Exploration Company invested your money because you wanted to make money. You wanted money for yourselves, your children, and your heirs.
What are you getting?
Aside from a stroke of pure luck, what has Jerry Conway done for you? He says he is “pyramiding.” He says he is “building.” He says he is laying a “firm foundation.”
That isn’t the way the most expert operators in the business look at it.
These people say Jerry Conway is laying an egg.
You’re entitled to a run for your money. You’re entitled to action. You want to make a profit now, next year, and the year after, not ten years or twenty years from now.
Mail your proxy to Gifford Farrell, care Proxy Holders Board of Salvage, and then, with Giff Farrell in the saddle, watch things begin to hum.
Farrell believes in results, not promises. Farrell believes in action, not idle planning; in decisions, not daydreaming; in performing, not hoping.
Conway closed the paper. It was, he admitted to himself, an ad that would get proxies. The ad also hurt.
According to the Proxy Holders Board of Salvage, it was simply a stroke of luck that the C. & T. Global Development & Exploration Company had been right in the middle of the Turkey Ridge pool.
After that pool came in, Jerry Conway could have declared big dividends, pushed up the value of the stock. Instead he had chosen to put the money into other holdings potentially as big as the Turkey Ridge pool.
Gifford Farrell had been a disruptive influence from the start. Finally there had been a showdown before the board of directors, and Farrell had been thrown out. Now he had started a fight for proxies. He was trying to wrest control of the company away from Conway.
Who was back of Farrell? What money was paying for the ads in the papers? Conway wished he knew. He wished he knew how to strike back.
Conway’s over-all, master plan had to be carried out quietly. The minute he tried to blueprint his plans, he defeated his own purpose. Prices of properties he hoped to acquire would go up beyond all reason.
Conway couldn’t explain publicly. He intended to address the stockholders’ meeting. He was hoping that the stockholders who were there, and most of the big ones would be, would stand by him. But what about the smaller stockholders? The ones who had put in a few dollars here, a few dollars there? Stockholders who concededly wanted profits and action?
Would these people stay in line, or would they send their proxies to Farrell?
An analysis of the books showed that there were enough small stockholders to take over control, if they acted as a unit. If Farrell could get their proxies, they’d act as a unit. If, however, Giff Farrell’s clever ads didn’t get more than 60 per cent of these smaller stockholders, and if Conway’s personality could hold the larger investors in line at the stockholders’ meeting, everything would be all right.
Those, however, were two great big ifs. And at the moment Jerry Conway didn’t have the answer.
Jerry Conway folded the newspaper, switched out lights in the office, and was heading for the door, when the phone rang.
Jerry answered it. He was answering all phone calls now. He dared take no chance of offending some of the small stockholders who would want explanations, and, heaven knows, there had been enough of them who had called up! So far, these people had listened to his explanation that a company in the process of acquiring valuable oil properties couldn’t blueprint its plans in the public press. Stock that the investors had bought a year ago had more than doubled in value. Giff Farrell said that was due purely to a “stroke of luck” with which Conway had nothing to do. Conway would always laugh when he quoted that. Stay with him and there might be more strokes of luck, he promised. Tie up with Giff Farrell’s crowd, and the company would be looted for the benefit of insiders.
So Jerry Conway picked up the telephone.
“Jerry Conway speaking,” he said.
The woman’s voice was intriguing, and yet there was something about it that carried its own warning. It was too syrupy-smooth, and Conway felt he had heard it before.
“Mr. Conway,” she said, “I must see you. I have some secret information which will be of the greatest value to you.”
“I’ll be in my office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, and—”
“No, no. I can’t come to your office.”
“Why not?”
“People are watching me.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I want to meet you privately, alone, somewhere where no one will know, somewhere where we won’t be disturbed.”
“You have some idea?” Jerry asked.
“Yes, if you’ll go to the Apex Motel out on Sunset tonight, register under your own name as a single, turn your lights out, leave your door unlocked, and wait until after midnight, I’ll—”
“I’m sorry,” Jerry interrupted. “That’s out of the question.”
“Why is it out of the question?”
“Well,” Jerry equivocated, “I have other plans for this evening.”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t do it tomorrow night, either,”
“Is it because you’re afraid of me?”
“I’m living in a glass house at the present time,” Conway said drily.
“Look,” she said, “I can’t talk with you any longer. My name is— Well, let’s say it’s Rosalind. Just call me Rosalind. I want to see you. I have information you should have, information that you must have in order to protect the stockholders, protect yourself, and save the company. Giff has a lot more proxies than you think he has. He’s a very dangerous antagonist. You’re going to have to start a counter campaign.”
“I’m sorry,” Conway said. “There are certain matters I can’t discuss over the telephone, and certain matters I can’t discuss in the press. After all, the stockholders must have some faith in someone. Otherwise, they’ll wind up in the financial gutter. Their holdings have doubled in value during the past year under my management. I have every reason to believe they’ll continue to climb, and—”