“I need it that way,” Mason said. “At nine o’clock I’m going to have to face an irate district attorney, and by that time the police are going to feel I’ve pulled at least one fast one on them.”
The telephone rang, and Della Street said, “That’s probably your office calling you now, Paul.”
Drake put down his coffee mug and picked up the telephone.
“Hello,” he said. “Yes, yes, this is Drake talking... How’s that again...? Hold the phone a second.” Drake looked up at Della Street and said, “Make a note, will you, Della? Pitcairn Hardware & Sporting Goods. Okay, I’ve got it. What’s the date? September second, three years ago. Okay.” Drake hung up the telephone, said, “Well, we’ve got the gun located. I don’t know whether this is going to do you any good or not, Perry.”
“What do you mean?” Mason asked.
“The gun was sold to the Texas Global for the protection of a cashier. The signature was that of the cashier, but the charge was made to the company itself on an order made by Conway.
“You can see what that does. It brings that weapon right home to Jerry Conway.”
Mason thought for a moment, then a slow grin suffused his features. “That,” he said, “brings the gun right home to Gifford Farrell. Gifford Farrell was with the company at that time, and was taking a very active part in the office management.”
“What do you think happened?” Della Street asked.
Mason stood holding his doughnut in one hand, his coffee mug in the other.
“What I think happened is that Gifford Farrell had a fight with his sweetheart and probably caught her cheating. He lost his head, pulled a gun and fired. Or it may have been that Rose Calvert found Gifford was cheating and committed suicide. In any event, Farrell must have had Conway’s telephone tapped. He knew that Conway was going to a public telephone booth to get directions at six-fifteen. Farrell took a chance. He had a girl call in at six-twelve, and Conway was there a few minutes early waiting for the other call. So Conway took the wrong message and was gone by the time the real message came in. Conway was just like a guided missile that’s being directed by radio. When he got to a certain point, someone with another more powerful radio stepped in, took control and sent the missile off on an entirely new path.”
“Well,” Drake said, “it’s a two-edged sword. Remember that both Farrell and Conway could have had access to the fatal weapon.”
“It’s all right,” Mason said, “unless—”
“Unless what?” Della Street asked.
“Unless,” Mason said, “Conway got smart and decided to— No, he wouldn’t do anything like that... However, I didn’t take the number of the gun when he first showed it to us. It wasn’t until after he was down at the motel I wrote down the number... Anyway, it’s all right. We’ll go down to see the D.A. in the morning, and there’ll be nothing to it. He can’t make a case against Conway now, and he’s going to be afraid to try. What did you find out about check-outs, Paul?”
“There was only one check-out at the hotel between six and nine from the seventh floor.”
“What time was that check-out, Paul?”
“About six-fifty.”
“Who was it?”
“A young woman named Ruth Culver.”
“The room number?” Mason asked.
“728.”
“Where is that with reference to 729?”
“Directly across the hall.”
“Have you got that room sewed up?” Mason asked.
“I have an operative in it right now. He’ll stay until we give him the word.”
“What have you found out about the Culver girl?”
“I’ve got men working on her. She’s in her twenties with auburn hair, a fairly good-looking babe... Here’s the strange thing, Perry. She checked in about ten in the morning, then left just before seven that night.”
“Did she make any explanation as to how she happened to check out at that time?”
“She said she’d had a long-distance call. Her father who lives in San Diego is very ill.”
“Baggage?” Mason asked.
“Quite a bit of it.”
Mason said, “Check the San Diego planes, Paul. Find out if one of them had a passenger named Ruth Culver, and—”
“Now look,” Drake interrupted, “you don’t have to do all my thinking for me, Perry. That’s routine. However, the clerk thinks this girl said she was going to drive down.”
Mason finished his doughnut, held out his mug for a refill.
Della Street turned the spigot and let coffee trickle into the mug.
“What about your operative up in Room 728? Can I trust him?” Mason asked.
“You can trust him unless the police start putting pressure on him,” Drake said. “None of these operatives are going to stand up to the police, Perry. They need the good will of the police to keep working.”
“What’s the name of this operative in Room 728?”
“Fred Inskip.”
“Does he know me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Give him a ring,” Mason said. “Tell him that I’m going to come up sometime before noon. Tell him to leave the door unlocked. I want to take a look in there... How about the police? Have they cleared out?”
“They’ve cleared out,” Drake said. “They sealed up Room 729.”
Drake watched Mason as he picked up another doughnut, said, “How I envy you your stomach, Perry! I’ve ruined mine sitting up nights living on soggy hamburgers and lukewarm coffee. Somehow when coffee is lukewarm, you drink four or five cups of it. If you can get it piping hot, you don’t drink so much.”
“Why don’t you get one of these big electric percolators?” Mason asked.
“Let me have Della Street to run it and keep house, and I will.”
Mason grinned. “Don’t talk like that, Paul. You could get yourself shot. Ring up Inskip and tell him to expect me around — oh, say ten or eleven.”
Drake put his coffee mug down on a piece of blotting paper, dialed a number, said, “I want to talk with Mr. Inskip in 728, please. Yes, I know it’s a late hour, but he’s not in bed. He’s waiting for this call. Just give the phone the gentlest tinkle if you don’t believe me.”
A moment later, Drake said, “Fred, this is Paul. I won’t mention any names, because I have an idea someone is monitoring our conversation, but a friend of mine is coming up to see you around ten o’clock. Leave the door unlocked... Okay.”
Drake hung up the telephone, said to Mason, “Remember, Sgt. Holcomb is looking for you. Are you going to try to get in touch with him?”
“He’ll be in bed by this time,” Mason said. “I wouldn’t want to disturb his beauty sleep.”
“Now look,” Drake warned, “remember this about Inskip. He isn’t in a position to hold out on the police if they start asking specific questions. You’ve been around the hotel, and someone may recognize you.”
“It’s all right,” Mason said. “I don’t care if they know I’ve been there after I’ve left. The only thing I don’t want is to have some smart guy like that room clerk, Bob King, ring up the police and say that I’m there and am visiting someone in Room 728. That might be what you would call premature.”
“To say the least,” Drake said drily. “Della, please put those doughnuts out of sight. They tempt me, and I’d have my stomach tied up in knots if I tried to keep up with your ravenous employer.”
Mason said, “I guess this just about winds things up, Della. How about getting in your car and driving home?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to run out to my apartment, shave, take a shower, and maybe get a couple of hours’ sleep before I have to go pick up Conway.”