Duncan, pushing importantly into the room, said, “What’s the trouble here? What’s happening?”
Maddox, attired in pajamas and slippers, shuffled along the corridor until he joined the group in the doorway. Dr. Kelton, taking Edna Hammer by the arm and pushing her from the room, remarked to the other two, “Just keep out, please.” Duncan’s big paunch blocked the doorway. Dr. Kelton, also heavily fleshed, but not as big in the stomach, pushed up against Duncan. “Let the woman out,” he said.
Duncan shoved. “I’ve got a right to know what’s happening here,” he said.
“Let the woman out,” Dr. Kelton repeated.
Duncan cleared his throat, continued to shove. Dr. Kelton, slightly lowering his shoulder, braced himself, gave a heave, sent Duncan staggering backwards. Edna Hammer, sobbing into her handkerchief, left the room. Duncan, recovering his balance, pushed through the door, saying, “You saw what he did, Maddox. Let’s get at the bottom of this.”
Mason, raising his voice, called to Dr. Kelton. “I think you’d better come back, Jim, we’ll want a medical man, and I want some witness to see that these two buzzards don’t frame anything.”
Duncan protested, “Upon behalf of my client, I resent… Oh, my God… Oh, my good God, the man’s been murdered!”
Dr. Kelton, walking to the bed, looked down at the bloodstained bedclothes, at the greenishgray features which stared with glassy eyes half open. He placed his fingers on the sides of the neck, turned to Mason and said, “It’s a job for the coroner—and the police.”
“We’re all getting out of this room,” Perry Mason ordered, raising his voice. “A murder’s been committed. The Homicide Squad will want things left exactly as they are. Everybody leave the room, please, and don’t touch anything.”
Duncan, glowering suspiciously, said, “And that applies to you as well as to us.”
“Certainly it does.”
“Go ahead and get out, then, don’t think you can herd me around like a sheep. I don’t know what authority you have to take charge of things.”
“I suggested,” Mason told him, “that we’d all leave the room. If you want to stay, that’s quite all right.”
He pushed past the paunchy lawyer, said, “Come on, Jim, we’ve given them warning. If they want to stay in here, they can explain it to the Homicide Squad.”
Duncan, suddenly suspicious, grabbed Maddox by the arm. “Come out, Frank,” he said, “come on out. He’s trying to trap us.”
“They knew someone had been murdered. They thought I was the one,” Maddox said.
“Come out, come out,” Duncan insisted. “We’ll talk outside. I have some information, but I’ll only give it to the police. Don’t let that man Mason frame anything on you, Frank.” They scrambled from the room.
“I demand,” Duncan said, in the corridor, “that the police be called in immediately.”
Perry Mason was moving toward the telephone. “You’re not demanding any louder than I am,” he retorted. He reached the telephone and called police headquarters, said to the desk sergeant, “There’s been a murder committed at the residence of Peter B. Kent. It’s in Hollywood at 3824 Lakeview Terrace… This is Perry Mason, the lawyer, talking… I’ll explain that when you get here. I’ve closed up the room. Very well, I’ll lock it, if I can find the key.”
As Mason turned from the telephone, Dr. Kelton drew him to one side. “There’s one angle of this you want to consider, Perry.”
“What’s that?”
“If,” Dr. Kelton pointed out, “your client, Peter Kent, had intended to commit a deliberate murder, he’s laid a swell foundation by building up this sleepwalking business.”
“What makes you think he planned anything like that, Jim?”
“That shaking act he put on.”
Mason suddenly faced Dr. Kelton. “Look here, Jim,” he said, “if you don’t want to miss all your morning appointments, you’d better get out of here. I’ll have to stick around. There’s no reason for you to.” Dr. Kelton nodded. His face showed relief. “You can,” Mason said, “take my car.”
Chapter 10
Mason gave Edna Hammer lowvoiced instructions in a corner of the patio. “No matter what happens,” he said, “no one must know anything about this Santa Barbara angle of the case.” He looked at his watch and went on, “We’ve got to hold your Uncle Peter absolutely in the clear for at least two hours and a half.”
“You mean they’ll want to bring him back?”
“They’ll want to question him.”
“Will they want to bring him back?”
“Probably.”
“What will I tell them?”
“Tell them that you don’t know where he is.”
“I’m going to tell them that I spent the night in Santa Barbara and came back on the bus.”
Mason squinted his eyes, and said, “I wouldn’t advise you to do it.”
“But I’m going to do it.”
“They’ll check up on you.”
“They won’t have any reason to check up on me. But what will you tell them about Uncle Pete?”
“I,” Mason said, “won’t tell them a damn thing.”
“Won’t they make trouble for you?”
“They may try to.”
“When will they question me?”
He looked at his watch again. “Almost any minute now. They’re examining the room and the body. Duncan’s bursting with a desire to spill some information. I don’t know what it is. Probably it’s something that’s only about half as important as he thinks it is. Both he and Maddox hate your Uncle Pete and they hate me. We can’t tell just exactly what they’ll do nor how far that hatred will take them.”
“They wouldn’t commit perjury, would they?”
“I wouldn’t put it past either one of them. Maddox is a crook. I think Duncan is a pettifogger. They were both trying to shake your uncle down. I stood in the way of that and naturally they resent it.”
“But what can they do?”
“I don’t know. That remains to be seen. In the meantime I want to put in a telephone call. You hold the fort.”
“Okay. But remember I came here in a taxicab after spending the night in Santa Barbara.”
“Don’t tell them where you spent the night,” he warned. “Refuse to do that until after you’ve consulted me.
“Will that make trouble?” she asked.
“Plenty,” he told her, “but anything you can do is going to make trouble. Tell them that where you spent the night doesn’t have the faintest bearing on the murder case but does concern your uncle’s business affairs. But remember this, sooner or later they’re going to put you under oath and then you’ve got to tell the truth.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll prosecute you for perjury if you don’t.”
“Oh, dear… I’m not going to tell them anything.”
“All right,” he said cheerfully, “don’t tell them anything.”
“But you won’t give me away?”
“Listen,” he said, “any information that they get out of me you can put in your eye. I’m going to telephone.” He went to the soundproof telephone closet and called Della Street. “Della,” he said, when he heard her voice on the line, “something’s happened out here. Get Paul Drake to pick up a couple of good men and come out. They probably won’t let him in, but he can hang around and find out as much as he can. Have you heard anything from Santa Barbara?”
“Yes. Jackson telephoned just a few minutes ago. He said he and Mr. Harris took turns watching Doris Kent’s house all night; and she didn’t go out anywhere, but Jackson has something he wants to tell you personally. He says he doesn’t want to tell it over the telephone.”
“Why not?”
“He said that it was filled with dynamite.”
“Who’s watching the house now?”
“I think Mr. Harris is. Jackson said that he kept on duty until some time before midnight, when Harris relieved him, and that Harris wants to be relieved.”
“Tell you what you do, Della. I think Drake’s agency has a man up in Santa Barbara. Tell Paul to get some photographs of Mrs. Kent, and a good description of her. Then he can contact Harris and take over the job of watching. I want to know when she leaves the house, and, if possible, where she goes. Tell Jackson to get that final decree just as quickly as he can. Tell him to keep you advised by telephone. I’ll get the information from you. Have you got that straight?”