Paul Drake laughed. He seemed in a very good humor, indeed.
"Well," he said, "I should waste my time telling you law points. But here's something you do want to be careful of."
"What's that?"
"Marjorie Clune."
"What about her?"
"The police have established in some way that Marjorie Clune and Dr. Doray drove together to the vicinity of Patton's apartment. They've located some one who had a little confectionery store in front of the fire plug where Doray parked his car. He remembers when the car drove up, and remembers that a man and a woman got out of it. The description of the man is that of Dr. Doray and the description of the woman tallies with Marjorie Clune. The confectionery dealer is one of those birds who get a great delight out of other persons' misfortunes. He's seen lots of people park their cars in front of that fire plug and get tagged. He likes to look at their facial expressions when they come back and find the tag dangling on the steering wheel, so he happened to notice Doray and Marjorie Clune pretty closely."
"Have the police explained anything about that blackjack yet?" Perry Mason asked.
"No, that probably isn't going to enter into the case particularly."
"Why not?"
"Because the crime wasn't committed with it. It hasn't anything more to do with the crime than the cane that was lying on the table—not as much, because the cane can be identified as having belonged to Patton, whereas no one knows who that blackjack belongs to."
"In other words," Mason said, "the police figure the case is closed, is that it?"
"That's just about it."
"And you think that I'm going to get in over my necktie?"
"I'm just warning you," Drake said. "I know that you've been working on that Marjorie Clune angle of the case. I just don't want you to get in a jam for compounding a felony, or becoming an accessory after the fact."
"While you're on the line," Perry Mason said, "I'll tell you a little law, Pauclass="underline" You can't compound a felony if a felony hasn't been committed. On the other hand, you can't become an accessory by aiding a person who isn't guilty of anything. If your principal isn't guilty, you aren't guilty, no matter what you do."
"You figure that Marjorie Clune is innocent?" Drake asked.
"Marjorie Clune," said Perry Mason with grave dignity, "is my client. Is it fair to ask what you're waiting for, Paul?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're waiting in your office. You're sitting right there at the telephone. You're waiting for something. Is it fair to ask what it is?"
The detective's tone was hurt.
"Now listen, Perry," he said, "I told you that I wouldn't accept any employment that was adverse to your interests. I've had that understanding with Bradbury, and I thought I had that understanding with you. The employment that this young woman gave me didn't conflict in any way with the employment you folks gave me. In fact, I figured that it checked right in. She claims that Marjorie Clune is innocent, but that Doray is the murderer; that Marjorie Clune may try to protect Doray, and —"
"I know all that stuff," Perry Mason said. "But that still doesn't tell me what you're waiting for."
"Well," Paul Drake told him, "I was coming to that. I've got a tip from police headquarters that the police interviewed Thelma Bell earlier in the evening. They didn't figure at the time that she was connected with the case sufficiently to warrant them in taking any steps. I think that they feel differently about it now. They think that she's got some important information that she concealed or that she could give. I understand they're going out to pick her up, and I was waiting to hear what she said. Have you any objections to that?"
"None whatever, my dear boy," said Perry Mason. "You wait right there until the police pick her up."
Smiling gently, Perry Mason slipped the receiver back on the hook.
Chapter 12
Morning sun was streaming through the streets of the city when Perry Mason aroused himself from the couch in the Turkish bath. His eyes were steady and clear. He had been freshly shaven, and his face showed no trace of fatigue.
From a telephone booth in the Turkish bath, he called the Drake Detective Bureau. The desk operator answered him.
"Paul Drake there?" he asked.
"No," she said, "Mr. Drake went out about half an hour ago."
"Do you know where he went?"
"Yes, he went home to get some sleep."
"This is Mason talking," the lawyer said. "Can you tell me how long he was there last night?"
"Oh, he stayed right up until half an hour ago," the girl said. "He was waiting for a telephone call. He expected to get some important information."
"And he didn't get it?"
"No, he waited all night, and then decided he'd get some sleep. He left word for me to call him if there were any new developments in that Patton case. He's working on that for you, isn't he?"
"And others," Mason said, with a smile.
"Do you want to call him at his apartment? I'll give you the number."
"No," Mason said, "I know the number. I just wanted to find out if he was still there. I didn't have anything important."
He hung up the telephone, his face wearing a broad smile, and went to the room where he had left his clothes; dressed, secured his valuables at the desk, and looked at his watch. It was eight thirtyfive.
He returned to the telephone booth and dialed the number of his own office. Della Street 's, "Good morning, this is Perry Mason's office," sounded crisp, fresh, and businesslike.
"Don't mention any names," Perry Mason said, "but this is the Mayor of Podunk. I want to see about floating a bond issue for —"
"Oh," she said, "I'm so glad you called," and there was relief in her tone.
"What's new?" he asked.
"Lots of things."
"Can you talk?"
"Yes, there's no one here right now except Mr. Bradbury, and I put him in the law library."
"What are the things you've got to tell me?" Mason asked. "Be careful how you mention them over the telephone."
"They all have to do with Bradbury," she told him.
"What about him?"
"He wants to see you, and he wants to see you right away."
"I don't want to see him," Mason said.
"I'm not certain about that," she said, "there's been something of a change come over him. I remember what you said about him, and I think you're right. He's a man who has to be reckoned with, and he's determined to see you. He says that if he doesn't see you within the next hour, it may make a great deal of difference to you, that if you should telephone and get in touch with me, I am to tell you that. That I am also to tell you he is not willing to allow a locked door to stand between the woman he loves and her freedom."
There was a moment of silence, while Perry Mason scowled thoughtfully.
"Do you get what he means by that?" she asked.
"I get it," Mason said, "and I might as well have a showdown with that bird now as later. He's not going to browbeat me."
"I think," she told him, "there are detectives watching the office."
"Yes," he said, "there would be. They want to pick me up. I tell you, Della, what you do. I'm about eight blocks from the office, at the Turkish bath that's right up the avenue. You get Bradbury and get in a taxicab. Drive up to the Turkish bath. I'll be standing in the doorway. You can pick me up."
"Do you think it's safe for me to leave with him? You don't think the detectives will suspect anything?"
"No, I don't think so," he told her, "and I want a witness along. You'd better put a pencil in your handbag, and have a notebook that you can use if it becomes necessary. I'm going to reach an understanding with Bradbury, and reach it right now."