Part 1 (2/2)
At length, Mason, sensing her immobility, looked up from the volume he was studying.
”You have always said,” Della Street observed archly, ”that you didn't like cases involving figures.”
”And that's right,” Mason observed emphatically. ”I want cases involving drama, cases where there's a chance to study human emotions. I don't want to stand up at a blackboard in front of a jury and add and subtract, multiply and divide.”
”We now have a case waiting in the outer office,” Della Street said, ”involving a figure, rather a fancy fig. ure I might add.”
Mason shook his head. ”We're booked solid, Della. You know I don't like routine. I . . . ” Something in her manner caused a delayed reaction in Mason's mind. ”What did you say the case involved?”
”A fancy figure.”
Mason pushed the book back. ”Now, by any chance, young woman,” he said sternly, ”is this an animate figure?”
”Very animate,” Della Street said.
Mason grinned. ”You mean it undulates?”
”Well,” she said thoughtfully, ”it sways.”
”Smoothly?”
”Seductively.”
”The age?”
”Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six.”
”And the figure?”
”Superb.”
”The name?”
”Ellen Robb, formerly a photographic model. Now a singer in a night club, doubling as a vendor of cigars and cigarettes.”
”Show her in,” Mason said.
”It will be some show,” Della Street warned. ”She's garbed.”
”Most women are,” Mason said and then added, ”when they visit offices.”
”This,” Della Street said, ”will be different.”
Mason placed the fingers of his left hand on his right wrist, consulted his wrist watch. ”Pulse a hundred and twenty-eight,” he said. ”Respiration rapid and shallow. How much more suspense, Della? Now that you've aroused my interest to this extent, what are we waiting for?”
”What was the pulse?” she asked.
”A hundred and twenty-eight.”
”In exactly five seconds,” Della Street said, ”take it again, and if it hasn't reached a hundred and eighty, you can cut my salary.”
She vanished momentarily, to return with Ellen Robb.
Mason glanced quizzically at the determined young woman, who was wearing a long, plaid coat.
”Miss Robb, Mr. Mason,” Della Street said, and then to Ellen, ”If you'll slip off your coat so Mr. Mason can see what you showed me, he will . . . ”
Ellen Robb opened the coat. Della Street's hands at the collar of the coat pulled it back and slipped it off the girl's shoulders.
Ellen Robb stood gracefully and without the least self-consciousness. She was clad in a tight-fitting sweater, a skirt which terminated some six inches above the knees, and black leotards. A small diamond-shaped ap.r.o.n, about the size of a pocket handkerchief, adorned with a border of delicate lace, was tied around her waist.
Despite himself, Mason's eyes widened.
”Miss Robb,” Della Street explained, ”won a bathing-beauty contest which included a trip to Hollywood, a screen test and a certain amount of resulting publicity.”
”The screen test?” Mason asked.
Ellen Robb smiled and said, ”It was part of the publicity. I never heard anything from it again. I sometimes doubt if there was film in the camera.”
”The trip to California?”
”That was real,” she said. ”I had to wait to travel when the plane had some extra seats. However, it was nice,” and then she added, ”while it lasted.”
”When did it quit lasting?”
”About six months ago.”
”And you've been doing?”
”Various things.”
”The last,” Della Street said, ”was being employed as a cigarette girl and novelty singer at a place in Rowena.”
”Rowena,” Mason said frowning, ”that's the small town where--”
”Where gambling which doesn't conflict with the state law is authorized by city ordinance,” Della Street said. ”The place is just big enough to get incorporated. It pays its munic.i.p.al expenses from the gambling and nicking the unwary tourist who goes through the eighteen blocks of restricted speed limit faster than the law allows.”
”The police force,” Ellen Robb said with a smile, ”consists of one man. When he's at the east end of town, he makes it a rule to issue at least one citation on his westbound trip. People who are going east are immune if they go tearing on through. On the other hand, when the city's police force is at the west end of town, people going east had better crawl along at a snail's pace or they'll have a citation.”
”I take it the officer is exceedingly impartial,” Mason said.
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