“Yes,” Della Street said thoughtfully, “everything he’s done seems to fit in with that type.”
Mason said, “Well, he went to the apartment. Esther wasn’t there. So he made himself at home. He telephoned the ad into the newspaper, charged it to Esther’s telephone, and sat back and waited. Carlotta violated my instructions, got a newspaper, read it, and looked in the classified ads. She and her husband may have had some understanding like that. In case of any emergency, they’d communicate with each other that way. Some people do. Or she may just have looked. Anyway, she got the telephone number. She called Bob.”
“And what did he do?”
“Went out and got her.”
“And then what?”
Mason stroked the angle of his chin. “There’s the rub. Let’s go out there and see what we can find, Della.”
They drove out to the Molay Arms. Mason tried the bell of Esther Dilmeyer’s apartment, got no answer, and called the manager. He said, “You’ll remember me. I was out here last night on that poisoning matter...”
“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling.
“I want to get some things out of Miss Dilmeyer’s apartment, and take them to her at the hospital. Would you give me the passkey please?”
“I can hardly do that,” she said, and hesitated, “but I’ll go up with you while you get what you want.”
Mason said, without letting her hear any change in his voice, “That’s fine.”
They walked up the stairs. Mason managed to slide in close to the wall, so that when she started to open the door, he was the first into the room.
There was no one in the apartment.
“What was it you wanted?” the manager asked.
Mason said, “Her nightgown, bedroom slippers, and some of her toilet articles. I’m rather helpless about those things, but I guess I can find them.”
“Oh, I’ll be glad to help! I think there’s a suitcase in the closet. Yes, here it is. You can just sit down if you wish, and I’ll get the things together. How is she?”
“You’re very kind. She’s doing nicely.”
Mason looked around the apartment. Police had dusted articles — the telephone, the table, some of the doorknobs — for the purpose of bringing out latent fingerprints. The ashtrays were well filled with cigarette stubs. Mason had no means of knowing whether the police had remained in the apartment for some time collecting evidence, and had left those cigarette ends, or whether they were indicative of a more recent occupancy.
While the manager was neatly folding garments into the suitcase, Mason made a detailed study of the cigarette ends. There were three of the better-known brands. One brand invariably had lipstick on the stubs. The other two did not. There were only four stubs which Mason found with lipstick on them. There were fifteen of the second brand, and twenty-two of the third. Those had evidently been consumed by nervous smokers. Seldom had more than half of the cigarette been smoked before it was ground into the ashtray.
“Was there anything else?” the manager asked.
“No, thank you. That’s all. You don’t know whether anyone’s been in here today?”
“Today? No, I don’t suppose so. No one said anything to me.”
“The police?”
“No. They finished last night — early this morning.”
“Maid service here?”
“Once a week is all. She takes care of her own apartment save for the regular weekly cleaning.”
“When’s that due?”
“Not until Saturday.”
“Thank you very much,” Mason said. “I’ll tell Miss Dilmeyer how helpful you were.”
He walked out of the apartment house carrying the suitcase, tossed it into his car, and said to Della Street, “Well, I guess I go to the hospital.”
It was twenty minutes past five when he reached the hospital. Dr. Willmont was already there.
“Patient still here?” Mason asked.
“The patient,” Dr. Willmont said, “is still here. She wakened about forty minutes ago, and while she’s a little groggy, her mind is clearing up very nicely.”
“Do the police know?”
“Not yet.”
“I thought they left instructions they were to be notified as soon as...”
“They did. I left instructions that I was to be notified of the patient’s condition, that no information was to be given to anyone else, and that no visitors were to be received until I personally had checked up on the patient’s condition. In a hospital, the doctor is boss.”
“That,” Mason said, “makes it nice. How much trouble would it cause if I sneaked in and had an interview before the police arrived?”
“It would cause a lot of trouble,” Dr. Willmont snapped. “You know that as well as I do. It would put me on a spot, and would make trouble for the hospital. Within certain limitations I can countermand police instructions when I personally assume the responsibility and the orders are for the good of my patient.”
Mason smiled. “I appreciate your position and your professional ethics, Doctor. Now, you know the mechanics of the hospital, and I don’t. How can I get to see Esther Dilmeyer in advance of the police without making trouble for you?”
“You’d have to do it without my knowledge,” Dr. Willmont said promptly.
“And without the knowledge of the nurse in charge?”
“That’s right.”
“And, I take it, your instructions have been very definite that nothing like that is to happen?”
“That’s quite correct.”
Mason lit a cigarette.
Dr. Willmont said, “I’m going to call the special nurse into the office for the purpose of checking over the patient’s chart. The patient is in room three-nineteen. Then I’m going to send the nurse down to the dispensary to get a prescription filled. It will be a prescription that will take a little time to fill. Sorry I can’t let you interview the patient, but it’s absolutely impossible. Step this way, please.”
He took Mason’s arm, escorted him over to the desk, and said to the woman in charge, “There are to be absolutely no visitors for Miss Dilmeyer until after the police have talked with her, and the police aren’t to talk with her until I give permission.”
“That’s my understanding,” the woman said.
Dr. Willmont turned to Mason. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mason, but you see how it is.”
Mason said, “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your position. Will you tell me when I can see her?”
Willmont shook his head in crisp negation. “I have nothing whatever to say about that, sir. I am acting merely as physician. As soon as it becomes advisable for her to see anyone, I will notify the police. From that point on, unless her health becomes affected, I will have absolutely nothing to say about who sees her. That will be entirely in the hands of the authorities. Good evening, Mr. Mason.”
“Good evening, Doctor,” Mason said, and turned away.
Dr. Willmont marched with quick, springy strides toward the elevator. Mason started toward the door, detoured into a telephone booth, waited until the attendant at the desk had her back turned, took the elevator to the third floor, and located Esther Dilmeyer’s room. He walked on past and waited in the corridor until he saw the nurse go out carrying a card fastened to a clip. Then Mason walked down the hallway and pushed open the swinging door.
Esther Dilmeyer was sitting up in bed, sipping hot coffee. She looked up at him and said, “Hello.”