Dr. Doray started to get up from the bed.
Perry Mason reached out with a rough hand and pushed him back.
"Sit down," he said, "and shut up. I'm not done talking to you yet. She was to have joined you on the midnight plane. She didn't. You can figure what that means. That means that the police picked her up somewhere and have held her without booking her. They've probably 'buried' her in some outlying town. That means that we won't have any trace of her until after they've given her all the third degree they can think of. They'll try every trick that's known to the police.
"When she talks, she's going to tell plenty, including the fact that you're here in Summerville, registered at the hotel under the name of Charles B. Duncan. That means you can expect the police here at any time. Now laugh that off."
Dr. Doray pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, mopped the perspiration from his forehead.
"My God!" he said.
Perry Mason said nothing.
Dr. Doray put his elbows on his knees. His hands hung limply between the knees, his head dragged forward as he stared at the carpet.
"I can tell you one thing," he said, "on my word of honor, and that was that I didn't talk her into coming down here. It was…"
"It was what?" asked Perry Mason quickly.
Dr. Doray caught himself.
"It was a complete mistake on your part," he said. "Marjorie Clune wasn't to join me here. She doesn't know where I am. She hasn't any idea where she can find me. I haven't communicated with her since I left Cloverdale."
"Just to show you," said Perry Mason, "what a poor liar you are…"
There was the sound of quick steps in the corridor, a tapping on the door.
Dr. Doray stared at Perry Mason with eyes that were wide with consternation.
Perry Mason jerked open the door before Doray could so much as move.
Marjorie Clune stood on the threshold, her blue eyes deep with emotion.
An expression of incredulous dismay came over her face as she stared at Perry Mason.
"You!" she said.
Perry Mason nodded, stood slightly to one side. She saw Dr. Doray.
"Bob," she cried, "tell me what's happened!"
Dr. Doray covered the distance between them in four swift strides, took her in his arms, held her to him.
Perry Mason walked across the room to the window, stood with his hands thrust in his coat pockets, staring moodily down at the street below.
"Why didn't you get the plane, dearest?" Doray whispered. "We thought you'd been arrested."
"There was a taxicab accident. I missed the plane. I came by the first train."
Perry Mason, still standing with his back to them, his face toward the window, called over his shoulder, "Why didn't you follow my instructions, Marjorie, and stay in your room?"
"I couldn't," she said.
"Why?"
"I can't explain very well."
"I think," he told her, with his back still turned to her, "that it's very important that you tell me."
There was a period of silence. Dr. Doray started to whisper in her ear.
Perry Mason caught the sound of the hissing sibilants and spun around on his heel.
"Cut it out," he said to Dr. Doray. Then, as his eyes held the blue eyes of Marjorie Clune, he said, "Come clean, Marjorie, it's important."
She shook her head, her face white to the lips.
Perry Mason watched her shrewdly.
"All right," he said, "suppose I tell you. You telephoned to Dr. Doray. He talked you into coming down here with him. You were either going to be married and face the music together, or else you were going to try and hide here. Which was it?"
"No," she said in a firm, steady voice, "that isn't right, Mr. Mason. Neither of them is. I was the one who rang Dr. Doray. I suggested this trip. I rang his hotel. He had checked out. I left a message for him to call me at the Bostwick Hotel. He had checked out of his hotel, but he called in later and got the message. He called me. I asked him if he would come down here with me for a week. We were to get the bridal suite and be together. At the end of that time, I was going to surrender to the police."
"Here?" asked Perry Mason.
"No, of course not. We weren't going to let any one know where we had been. We were going to return to the city."
"And both were going to surrender to the police?" Perry Mason asked.
She nodded.
"What was the reason," asked Perry Mason, "that you broke your promise to me and came down here on this trip?"
She stared at him with frank, steady eyes.
"Because," she said, "I wanted a week with Bob."
Perry Mason regarded her unflinching eyes with speculative appraisal.
"You're not the type of girl who would do that," he said.
"You have seen Bob Doray off and on for months, and yet you haven't shown any desire to weekend with him—at least I don't think you have. Now, all of a sudden, you want to give him a week, and then you don't care what happens. You —"
She came to Perry Mason, put her hands on his shoulders; her lips were white and quivering.
"Please," she said, "don't tell him. You're going to figure it out in a minute. Please stop. You'll know if you'll only take time to think."
Perry Mason frowned at her, and then his eyes narrowed.
"By God," he said, "I believe I do know."
"Please don't tell him," Marjorie Clune pleaded.
Perry Mason turned away from her, walked to the window, and stood with his hands jammed into his pockets. He heard Dr. Doray rush to Marjorie Clune, clasp her in his arms.
"What is it, sweetheart? Please tell me."
"Don't, Bob, you're going to make me cry. Remember the bargain. I was to give you one week. You weren't to ask any questions. You promised that —"
Abruptly, Perry Mason's voice cut through the low tones of their conversation. His voice was like that of a radio announcer reporting some news event.
"There's an automobile," he said, "that's just parked across the street. A big man, wearing a black, broadbrimmed hat, is just getting out of the car. He's a typical country sheriff. There's another man getting out of the other side. He's a man in a uniform with a police cap with gold braid on it. He looks like a chief of police. The men are talking together. They're looking across here at the hotel."
The room behind Mason became suddenly silent. Mason continued, in the same impersonal tone of voice:
"They're starting to walk across the street toward the hotel. I don't think there's any question but what they have been tipped off to come here and look for at least one of you. Perhaps they trailed Marjorie. Perhaps they found out about Dr. Doray coming down on the midnight plane."
Perry Mason whirled to face the pair.
Dr. Doray was standing very erect, his face white. Marjorie Clune was at his side; her lips were unquivering, her eyes were fastened upon Perry Mason.
"All right," she said, "if we have to, we can take it right on the chin. You're going to represent Dr. Doray as well as myself, Mr. Mason. That's understood, is it not?"
"That," said Perry Mason, "is understood. And I'm going to do it in my own way."
"What's that?" she asked.
Perry Mason's eyes shifted to Dr. Doray.
"You've got to play the part of a man," he said. "I'm going to throw you to the wolves. You're going to take it and like it. You're going to promise me one thing. It's going to be the most difficult thing you ever did in your life, but you're going to do it."
"Will it help Marjorie?" Doray asked quietly.
"Yes," said Perry Mason.
"What is it?"
"You're going to keep absolutely quiet."
"What else?" asked Dr. Doray.
Perry Mason laughed grimly.