Part 2 (1/2)
”Ellen Robb, a singer.”
”That tramp. What about her?”
”I'm coming out to see you,” Mason said. ”It will take me about half an hour to get there. Miss Robb will be with me. I want all of her personal possessions, I want all of the money that she has coming to her, and I'll talk with you about the rest of it.”
”All right,” George said. ”Now I'll tell you something. You bring Ellen Robb out here, and she gets arrested quick. If she wants to spend the next sixty days in the clink, this is the place for her. Tell her I've got the reception committee all ready.”
”Very well,” Mason said, ”and since you're planning a reception committee, you might go to the bank and draw out ten thousand dollars.”
”Ten thousand dollars! What are you talking about?”
”I am about to file suit on her behalf for defamation of character, for slanderous remarks and false accusation. If you have ten thousand dollars available in cash, I might advise Miss Robb to make a cash settlement rather than go to court.”
”What the h.e.l.l you talking about?” Anc.l.i.tas shouted into the telephone.
”About the business I have with you,” Mason said, and hung up.
The lawyer looked across the desk at Ellen Robb's startled eyes. ”Want to put on your coat and go?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. ”No one has ever talked to George Anc.l.i.tas like that. I want very much to put on my coat and go.”
Mason nodded to Della Street. ”Bring a notebook, Della.”
CHAPTER THREE.
The Big Barn in Rowena was a two-story frame building, the front of which had been made to resemble the entrance to a barn. Double barn doors were half open. A recessed part.i.tion in the back of the doors, which was not over two feet deep but to which the ends of bales of straw had been fastened, created the impression of a huge barn crammed with baled hay.
A motel was operated in connection with the other activities, and a sign at the road blazoned TROUT FIs.h.i.+NG POOL. RODS, REELS RENTED. FISH BAIT SOLD. NO LICENSE NECESSARY.
Perry Mason parked his car, a.s.sisted Della Street and Ellen Robb to the curb, then walked across to open the door to the night club.
After the bright sunlight of the sidewalks, the interior seemed to be encased in thick gloom. Figures moved around in the shadows.
A man's voice said, ”I'm Miles Overton, the chief of police of Rowena. What are you folks doing here?”
Ellen Robb gave a little gasp.
”Where's George Anc.l.i.tas?” Mason asked.
”Here I am.”
George Anc.l.i.tas pushed his way belligerently forward, his deep-set eyes glittering with hostility at Perry Mason.
Mason's eyes rapidly adjusted themselves to the dim light.
”I'm Perry Mason. I'm an attorney,” he said. ”I'm representing Ellen Robb. You threw her out of here last night without giving her a chance to get her things. The first thing we want is to get to her locker and get her belongings.”
”All right, all right,” George said. ”You want to go to the locker. The chief of police is here. He'll search the locker.”
”Not without a warrant he won't.”
”That's what you think,” the chief said. ”When she opens that door I take a look. George Anc.l.i.tas owns this place. He's given me permission to search any part of it I want.”
”The locker is the property of my client,” Mason said.
”She got a deed to it?” George asked.
”It was designated as a place where she could store her things,” Mason said.
”While she was working here. She isn't working here any more. I want to take a look in there. I want to see what's in there. I'll bet you I'll find some of the money that's been missing from the cash register.”
”You mean,” Mason said, ”that she would have taken the money from the cash register last night, then gone to her locker, unlocked the locker, opened the door, put the money in there, then closed and locked the door again?”
”Where else would she have put it?” George asked.
Mason regarded his client with twinkling eyes. ”There,” he said, ”you have a point.”
”You're d.a.m.ned right I got a point,” George said.
”And you don't have a key to the locker?” Mason asked.
”Why should I have a key?”
”I thought perhaps you might have a master key that would open all of the lockers.”
”Well, think again.”
”You can't get in this locker?”
”Of course not. I gave her the key. She's got it in her purse, that little purse she keeps down in the front of her sweater. I saw her put it there.”
”And you have been unable to open her locker?” Mason asked.
”Of course. Sure, that's right. How could I get in? She's got the key.”
”Then,” Mason said, ”how did you expect to get her things out and send them by bus to Phoenix, Arizona?”
George hesitated only a moment, then said, ”I was going to get a locksmith.”
The police chief said, ”Don't talk with him, George. He's just trying to get admissions from you.”
”First,” Mason said, ”I'm going to get my client's things. I'm warning you that any attempt to search her things without a warrant will be considered an illegal invasion of my client's rights. I'm also demanding an apology from Mr. Anc.l.i.tas because of remarks he has made suggesting that my client is less than honest. Such an apology will not be accepted as compensation by my client, but we are suggesting that it be made in order to mitigate damages.”
George started to say something, but the chief of police said, ”Take it easy, George. Where's Jebley?”
”That's what I want to know,” Anc.l.i.tas said angrily. ”I told my attorney to be here. This tramp is going to show up with an attorney, I'm going to have an attorney. I--”