Mason said, “Yes.”
“You know what I want.”
Again Mason said, “Yes.”
“Do I get it?”
Mason’s lips softened into a smile. “No.”
“I think I do.”
“I think you don’t.”
Peavis took a cigar from his pocket, extracted a knife from his vest pocket, carefully clipped off the end of the cigar, then raised the eyes under his shaggy iron-gray brows, and said to Mason, “Want one?”
“No, thanks, I’ll stay with the cigarettes.”
Peavis lit the cigar. He said, “Don’t think I’m making the mistake of underestimating you.”
“Thanks.”
“And don’t make the mistake of underestimating me.”
“I won’t.”
“Try not to. When I want something I get it. I’m a slow-wanter. I don’t see something, say all at once, ‘I want that,’ and try to get it. If I want something, I look it over for a good long time before I decide I really want it. When I decide I want it, I get it.”
“And right now you want the Faulkner Flower Shops?”
“I don’t want Mildreth Faulkner out.”
“You want her to stay in and work for you?”
“Not for me. For the corporation.”
“But you want to control the corporation?”
“Yes.”
Mason said, “When Mrs. Lawley got sick, you had her husband pretty well sized up. You knew you could play on his weakness, didn’t you?”
“I don’t have to answer that question.”
“You don’t. That’s right. It might save time if you did.”
“I’ve got lots of time.”
“I suppose that you knew Sindler Coll — or was it the blond lure, Esther Dilmeyer, that you had for a point of contact?”
Peavis said, “Go to hell.”
Mason picked up the telephone, said to the girl at the switchboard, “Get me the Drake Detective Agency. I want to talk with Paul Drake.”
While he waited, Mason glanced across at his visitor. Peavis sat with an absolutely expressionless face. He might not have heard, or, if he had, failed to appreciate the significance of the call. He puffed thoughtfully at the cigar, his deep-set eyes of glacial blue glittering frostily from beneath the bushy eyebrows.
After a few moments, the switchboard operator said, “Here’s Mr. Drake,” and Mason heard Paul Drake’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, Paul. This is Perry. I have a job for you.”
“Thought you might have,” Drake said. “I read about Lynk’s murder in the paper and wondered if you were going to get mixed up in it.”
Mason said, “A man by the name of Harry Peavis, a florist, controls a large part of the retail flower shops in the city. He’s been trying to get a controlling interest in the Faulkner Flower Shops. There are three of them. It’s a closed corporation. One of the principal stockholders got sick, turned the stock over to her husband. Peavis saw a chance to get that stock. I don’t know whether he knew Lynk, or whether he knew some people who knew Lynk. Two people may have figured in the deal, a Sindler Coll, who lives in the Everglade Apartments in two hundred and nine, and an Esther Dilmeyer, who’s in the Molay Arms Apartments. Someone sent the Dilmeyer girl a box of poisoned candy last night — filled with veronal. She ate some of the chocolate creams, and passed out. She’s in the hospital now under the care of Dr. Willmont. She probably won’t wake up for another twelve hours. Incidentally, Harvey Lynk had a partner, Clint Magard. I don’t know whether Magard was in on it or not.”
“Okay,” Drake said.
“Got those names?”
“Yes.”
Mason said, “Get busy. Find out whether Peavis knew Sindler Coll or Esther Dilmeyer. Or he may have been working through Lynk. Anyway, investigate Peavis and find out his connection with it.”
Peavis smoked in stony silence.
“Anything else?” Drake asked.
“Yes,” Mason said. “Get what dope you can on Peavis. If there are any weak points in his armor, I want to know them. Put a bunch of men on it, and get results.”
“Starting now?” Drake asked.
“Immediately,” Mason said, and hung up.
Mason pushed the phone away from him and settled back, tilting his swivel chair to a reclining position.
Harry Peavis crossed his legs, knocked ashes from the end of his cigar, and said to Mason, “Very dramatic. It might bother some people. Doesn’t bother me. It isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“It’s just routine,” Mason said. “I’d never forgive myself if I overlooked it.”
Peavis said, without reproach, “You must think I’m a damn fool.”
Mason said, “I’ll tell you more about that when I get Drake’s report.”
“When you get ready to quit kidding and act grown-up, I’ll talk,” Peavis said.
“All right, act grown-up.”
Peavis said, “Money will do lots of things.”
“It will for a fact.”
“You have money, and I have money. We can both spend it.”
“What are you leading up to?”
“It might be better if we saved it.”
“Why?”
“You could use your money to better advantage. So could I. You’ve hired detectives. I can hire detectives. I can hire just as many and just as good ones as you can.”
“Well?”
“If I have to put it in words of one syllable, I can show that Mildreth Faulkner went out to call on Lynk. She found the door slightly open. She went in and found the body. She found that certificate of stock. She figured that Lynk came by it wrongfully. She picked it up and went out. Now then, by the time I’ve finished proving that, where is that going to leave Mildreth Faulkner?”
“It’s your party,” Mason said. “Go ahead and serve the refreshments.”
“All right. I will. It leaves her in jail. It leaves her charged with murder, and it’s going to take a damn sight smarter man than I am, a damn sight smarter man than you are, to get her off. That isn’t going to do either of us any good. The reason I’m interested in the Faulkner Flower Shops is because they’re money-makers, and because I want Mildreth Faulkner working for me.”
“Why?” Mason asked curiously.
Peavis met his eyes then, and said slowly, “That’s another one of the things I want.”
Mason stared thoughtfully at the blotter.
“You get my point,” Peavis said.
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“When will you know?”
“I can’t even tell you that.”
Peavis got to his feet. “All right,” he said, “I’m a businessman, and you’re a businessman.”
“One question,” Mason said.
“What?”
“Does Mildreth Faulkner know what it is you want?”
The bluish-green eyes met Mason’s with the force of a physical impact. “No,” he said, “and she isn’t to know until I’m ready to tell her. I tell her at my own time and in my own way. What I told you was simply to explain my position.”
“Thanks for dropping in,” Mason said.
“My telephone number’s in the book,” Peavis remarked. He started for the door, turned, and stared steadily at Mason. “I’m not so damn certain,” he observed calmly and impersonally, “but what you and I are going to have trouble. If we do, it isn’t going to be like any other fight you ever had. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Mason said.
At twelve-thirty-five Della Street telephoned. “Hello, Chief. I’m in a telephone booth at the hotel. Just cashed one of the hundred-dollar checks.”
“Any difficulty?”
“No.”
Mason said, “I’m having my lunch sent in here. I’ll be at the end of the telephone. If you have any trouble, call me. I won’t leave the office under any circumstances until I hear that you’re finished. Try and clean it all up by three o’clock.”