He grinned. “Getting serious for the moment, Baggage, where a man is utilizing some scientific invention, you’d think he’d want to know something of the history back of that invention.”
“Well,” she said, “I hate to distract you from your philosophical contemplation of crime, but it occurs to me that while you’re being serious I’d better dissipate your mood of joyous hilarity by telling you the worst.”
“What,” he asked, “is the worst?”
“One of Drake’s detectives is looking for you with blood in his eye.”
Mason, still grinning, said, “Did you say blood in his eye or on his eye, or, perhaps, around his eye?”
“How did you know, Chief?”
“More deductive reasoning,” he said.
“If the man ever heard you make that crack he’d...”
She broke off as Paul Drake knocked his peculiar code sequence on the door. Mason strode over to open it. Drake walked in and said, “Our friend Chennery believes in direct methods, Perry.”
“What happened?” Mason asked.
Drake said, “About five minutes after we left Chennery’s place, Chennery came out, walked over to the roadster where my operative was sitting and said. ‘Your lawyer friend told me I was being shadowed, and you look like the shadow.’ ”
“Then what?” Mason asked.
“My operative doesn’t remember,” Drake said, grinning. “He says a building fell on him, but he’s probably exaggerating. About ten minutes later, when the extra men I’d telephoned for showed up, they found this bird tied up in the bottom of the car, with adhesive tape pasted over his eyes and lips.”
“Chennery?” Mason asked.
“Gone,” Drake said. “Slipped through our fingers. But we’re tailing his wife, and she’ll lead us to him sooner or later.”
“She didn’t get away?”
“No. Chennery beat up my operative and skipped out. She waited to pack up, and must have left about ten or fifteen minutes after he did. My men showed up just as she was pulling out.”
“Where is she now?” Mason asked.
“Out at the Monadnock Hotel, registered as Mrs. Charles Peabody of New Orleans.”
“Okay,” Mason said, “Sew her up tight. Try and get a dictograph planted in her room. Plant operatives in the adjoining rooms, and keep your eye peeled for Mister Charles Peabody.”
“That,” Drake said with a grin, “has already been done.”
Mason said, “You know, Paul, that’s a professional trick, taping a man’s eyes and mouth.”
“I’ll say it is,” Drake agreed.
“I also noticed that Chennery seemed to know the ropes. As soon as I told him you were a detective, he wanted to know whether you were from headquarters. When he found out you weren’t, he started getting tough.” Drake nodded. “And,” Mason went on, “according to the homicide squad, the light fuse in Austin Cullens’ residence blew out because someone unscrewed a lamp globe, slipped a copper penny into the socket, and then screwed the light back. As soon as the lights were turned on, it blew the fuse. That’s also a professional trick.”
Drake nodded thoughtfully. “You have something there, Perry. Mrs. Breel would never have done that.”
Mason said, “A person who would short-circuit a fuse that way would be inclined to use adhesive tape on a man’s eyes and lips. There’s a certain similarity in the technique, Paul, an efficiency in obtaining maximum results with minimum effort.”
Drake said, “Therefore, I take it, Perry, you want my operative to make a complaint to the police and...”
“No,” Mason said, “I don’t. I’m simply mentioning the point for your own information, Paul — in case you meet up with Mr. Charles Peabody of New Orleans.”
“I get you,” the detective said. “Here’s something else, Perry. Bill Golding is driving a new maroon-colored sedan.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “I’m interested in the adjective, Paul,” he said.
“Maroon-colored?” Drake asked. Mason shook his head. Drake said, “I get you, Perry... but I doubt if it’s that new.”
“Find out,” Mason told him.
“Okay. Now here’s the big thing, Perry. I’ve identified the Bedford diamonds. Your hunch was one hundred percent right. The stones found in that bag, and being held at police headquarters, were taken in a gem theft in New Orleans six months ago. A bunch of antique jewelry was picked up by professional cracksmen and the insurance companies have been moving heaven and earth, trying to get some trace of them.”
“You’ve notified the insurance company?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you about,” Drake said. “The question is, can I go ahead with it? There’s a reward of two thousand dollars which we could split and...”
“No rewards,” Mason said. Then as he saw the detective’s face fall, went on, “That is, for me. You take all the rewards... But do you know, Paul, it might not be a bad idea to make a split with Sergeant Holcomb.”
“That stuffed shirt!” Drake exclaimed. “Why should I split with him?”
“He might be more willing to cooperate on the other stuff,” Mason said.
“What other stuff?”
“I think you’ll find plenty of it,” Mason told him. “By the time you go through the stones which Cullens had on consignment with George Trent, and in safety deposit boxes, you might find some more rewards.”
“You think Cullens has stuff salted away?” Drake asked.
“I think he was a big fence,” Mason told him. “If you collect your two thousand dollars’ reward on this, you’ll have a fight on your hands. You won’t get any other reward. Holcomb will move in and sew everything up. Moreover, he’ll claim the stones are in the possession of the police department and...”
“I see your point,” Drake said. “Is it all right for me to take him into my confidence?”
“First get a definite agreement out of him,” Mason said. “Holcomb and I are cooperating on this case.”
“You’re what!”
Mason grinned. “Cooperating.”
“Since when?” Drake asked.
“Since Holcomb asked me to,” Mason said.
“Isn’t that rather unusual?” Drake inquired.
“That,” Mason grinned, “is more than unusual. It’s unique.”
Drake said, “The district attorney wants to rush that Cullens murder before the grand jury. I’ve got a complete signed statement from Diggers... This business about the gems being stolen is going to make quite a splash.”
“I presume,” Mason said, “Sergeant Holcomb will be moving heaven and earth to get Pete Chennery and his wife.”
“He would if he knew what we do,” Drake said.
“Well,” Mason remarked, “Sergeant Holcomb and I are cooperating on the case.”
“You mean to tell Sergeant Holcomb all about Mrs. Chennery’s story?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Mason said. “After all, the Sergeant is a bit touchy and he might resent having the whole case worked out for him, but Mrs. Lone Bedford went to headquarters with me last night to identify the stones in that bag. She couldn’t do it. I told her that Austin Cullens had been murdered, and she left in something of a hurry. She picked up a taxicab and went directly to Pete Chennery’s apartment. You know, if you dropped a hint to Sergeant Holcomb, he’d probably start tracing the taxicabs in order to find where Mrs. Bedford went. That would give him pretty much of a line on the entire situation, and he wouldn’t feel he’d received too much help from us.”
Drake shook his head and said, “Perry, if you’re pulling a fast one, I...”