“I’m not so certain, Paul. Come on, let’s talk with her.”
Drake heaved a sigh. “Okay,” he surrendered reluctantly.
Mason flashed a reassuring smile at the manager. “Personally,” he said, “I think it’s a mistake.”
They took the stairs, starting to climb leisurely, running up them two at a time as they got out of sight of the manager. Mason said, “Hurry, Paul. She may telephone, and let her know we’re on the trail.”
They trooped down the corridor.
Drake said to Della Street: “Tap on the door, Della. If she comes, all right. If she doesn’t, and wants to know who’s there, remember you’re the girl from across the hall, and you’re out of matches.”
They paused in front of the door. Della Street tapped gently on the panel. After a moment of silence, a woman’s voice said, “Who is it please?”
Della said gushingly, “Oh, I’m from across the hall, and I’ve run out of matches. My boy friend’s been working late, and I’m making a pot of coffee and some scrambled eggs. I’ll only need just a couple.”
The door opened.
The young woman who stood on the threshold was striking in appearance. The henna hair did not particularly become her, but the limpid, dark eyes, the very red, full lips, the smooth lines of her neck stretching down into perfectly formed curves visible beneath the sheer silk of the lounging pajamas, gave her a somewhat voluptuous appearance; while the dead white of her skin, drawn tight across the forehead and wide cheekbones, made her seem peculiarly exotic.
Drake and Mason took charge without giving her an opportunity to collect her thoughts or take any independent action.
“Okay, Inez,” Drake said, pushing his way into the room and taking care not to remove his hat. “The jig’s up.”
Perry Mason tilted his own hat a little farther back on his head and nodded.
Della Street glanced about her in swift appraisal, taking in little details which only a feminine eye would observe.
Drake dropped into a chair, crossed his long legs, lit a cigarette, and said, “So you thought you could get away with it, eh?”
Mason said, “Now wait a minute, Paul. Let’s give her a break. Let’s hear her side of the story before we do anything rash.”
“Hear her side of the story!” Drake exclaimed scornfully. “She walks out of her apartment, tries to disguise her appearance, takes an assumed name. I suppose all that was just because her delicate nerves couldn’t stand the idea of living in an apartment house where a man had been murdered.”
“You don’t think she did it, do you, Paul?” Mason asked.
“Her boy friend did,” Drake said, with the complete detachment of one who is discussing a problem which holds no personal interest for him.
Inez Colton said indignantly, “This is an outrage! What do you mean by tricking me in this way? You said you wanted matches.”
“Forget it, sister,” Mason said. “I’m trying to do you a favor. This guy,” indicating Drake with a sideways gesture of his head, “is hard. If you don’t think he’s hard, just cross him. I claim you didn’t know what you were getting into, that you were in love, and that it’s up to us to give you a chance to come clean before we do anything drastic.”
“What do you mean — drastic?” she asked, and there was a slight quaver in her voice.
Drake laughed scornfully.
Mason said, “Now listen, Paul, let’s be fair about this thing. She may not have been mixed up in that murder.”
“Then what did she run away for?”
“To protect her boy friend, of course.”
“Well, you know the law. If she gives aid to a murderer to shield him, she becomes an accessory after the fact. And how about this talk Milicant had over the telephone...”
Mason said, “Now wait a minute, Paul. I’m going to be firm about this. You’re not going to condemn this young woman until we hear her side of the story.”
Mason turned expectantly to Inez Colton.
For a second or two, it seemed that she was on the point of rushing into swift speech. Then her eyes became hard and suspicious. She seemed to lower a veil over her thoughts. “What do you want?” she asked.
Mason said, “The truth.”
“I have done nothing wrong.”
“Come on, come on,” Drake said. “Let’s have it.”
Mason said, “Shut up, Paul. I’m going to insist that you have a chance to tell your story, Inez.”
There was doubt in her eyes. She glanced appealingly at Della Street, then said, “Well...”
As she hesitated, Drake said, “We have a witness who saw Jason Carrel when he left your apartment, so there’s no good trying to cover up.”
She whirled to face Drake. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Her muscles became poised, tense. “Jason Carrel leaving my apartment?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Drake said.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m a detective,” Drake said.
“Well, you’re barking on the wrong track, Mr. Detective. Jason Carrel was never in my apartment. I see it all now. You two are trying to run a bluff, figuring you’ll get me to talk. Thank you. I have nothing to say.”
Mason said, “Suit yourself,” and handed the subpoena to Paul Drake.
Drake, crossing over to her, said, “Under those circumstances, you get a subpoena to appear in court tomorrow morning at ten o’clock and testify on behalf of the defendant in the case of the People versus Alden Leeds.”
“But I can’t come to court. I mustn’t.”
Drake shrugged his shoulders, “That’s your funeral, sister.” “But I don’t know anything that would help anyone. I know nothing whatever about that murder.”
“Save it for the witness stand,” Drake said.
“All right, I will,” she said defiantly, “and don’t think my testimony is going to help Alden Leeds any, because it won’t.”
“What do you know about Alden Leeds?” Drake asked.
“That’s none of your business. Put me on the witness stand, and I’ll tell.”
Drake said conversationally, “Too bad about Jason Carrel. He said he didn’t know you. Unfortunately, he was testifying under oath in a murder trial, and a court reporter took down what he said.”
There was a triumphant glitter in her eyes. “Put me on the witness stand,” she challenged. “I dare you!”
Abruptly, Mason, who had been watching her carefully, said, “I’m afraid, Miss Colton, that you’re getting a wrong impression. Mr. Drake isn’t very familiar with the various Leeds relatives, and apparently he’s made the mistake of confusing Jason Carrel with Harold Leeds... What you mean, Paul, is that Harold committed the murder.”
Inez Colton winced as though Mason’s words had been a physical blow. Consternation showed in her eyes. She said, in a stammering half whisper, “He... told me... you didn’t know.”
Mason’s low laugh was filled with calm confidence. “He really thought that?” he asked. “It’s what we wanted him to think, of course, until we had him trapped. That’s why I refrained from asking Jason Carrel whether he had loaned his car to his cousin.”
“Then you’re... you’re Perry Mason, the lawyer who’s representing Alden Leeds?”
Mason nodded.
“You can’t pin it on Harold.”
Mason said patiently, “We’re not pinning anything on anyone — but Harold can never convince a jury he didn’t do it.”
She said, “Harold went downstairs to see him, and he was dead.”
“Went alone?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“And told you he was dead?”
She nodded, in tight-lipped silence.
“Why didn’t you notify the authorities?” Mason asked.
“As far as that’s concerned, why didn’t Alden?”