Part 2 (2/2)
The door opened. For a moment the light from the sidewalk poured in, silhouetting a thick neck, a pair of football player's shoulders and a shock of curly hair. Then the door closed and the silhouette resolved itself into a man of around thirty-seven with dark-rimmed spectacles, a toothy grin and hard, appraising eyes.
”This,” George Anc.l.i.tas announced, ”is Jebley Alton, the city attorney here at Rowena. The city attorney job isn't full time. He takes private clients. I'm one.”
George turned to the attorney. ”Jeb,” he said, ”this man is Mason. He says he's a lawyer and--”
Anc.l.i.tas was interrupted by Alton's exclamation. ”Perry Mason!” he exclaimed.
Mason nodded.
Alton's hand shot forward. ”Well, my gosh,” he said, ”am I glad to meet you! I've seen you around the Hall of Justice a couple of times and I've followed some of your cases.”
Alton's fingers closed around Mason's hand.
”All right, never mind the brotherly love stuff,” George said. ”This guy Mason is representing this woman who's trying to blackmail me and--”
”Easy, George, easy,” Alton warned. ”Take it easy, will you?”
”What do you mean, take it easy? I'm telling you.”
Alton said, ”This is Perry Mason, one of the most famous criminal lawyers in the country.”
”So what?” Anc.l.i.tas said. ”He's representing a broad who's trying to blackmail me. She claims I accused her of being dishonest.”
”Oh, George wouldn't have done that,” Alton said, smiling at Mason. And then turning to Della Street, bowing, and swinging around to face Ellen Robb, ”Well, well,” he said, ”it's the cigar and cigarette girl.”
”That's the one,” George said.
”What's the one?”
”The one who's making the trouble. Ellen Robb, here.”
The chief of police said, ”There's been a program of pilfering going on in the place. George has run up against a whole series of shortages. He's asked me to make an investigation.”
Alton's eyes swept over the chief of police with skeptical appraisal. ”The law of searches and seizures is rather technical, Chief,” Alton said easily. ”Several decisions of the Supreme Court in California and the Supreine Court of the United States haven't simplified matters any. I'll take charge here.”
Mason turned to Ellen Robb. ”Do you have a key to your locker?”
She nodded.
”Get it,” Mason said.
Her hand moved into the front of her sweater, came out with a small coin purse. She opened it, took out a key.
”Let's go,” Mason said.
Ellen Robb led the way. Mason and Della Street came next, then the chief of police. George Anc.l.i.tas, striding forward, was checked by Jebley Alton who, laying a restraining hand on his client's arm, drew him back to one side and engaged in rapid-fire, low-voiced conversation.
Ellen led the way into a room marked Employees, through a curtained doorway which had the word Female painted over the top, and paused before a locker.
”Open it,” Mason said.
She fitted a key and opened the locker. In it there was a cheap suitcase, a pair of shoes, a suit and a raincoat.
”These all yours?” Mason asked.
She nodded.
”Do you want to put those things in that suitcase?”
”They came in that way. They can go out that way,” she said.
”You have some other things?”
”Yes.”
”Where?”
”There's a motel unit a.s.signed to us girls. We sleep there. It's a sort of dormitory. Sadie Bradford, another girl and I share the unit. He wouldn't let me get my things out of it last night. I was virtually thrown out.”
”Better start packing,” Mason said.
She pulled out the suitcase and flung back the lid. ”I think Miss Robb would like some privacy while she changes her clothes,” Mason said. ”My secretary, Miss Street, will wait with her and--”
Mason broke off at the startled exclamation from Ellen Robb.
”What is it?” he asked.
She instinctively started to close the lid of the suitcase, then checked herself.
”Let's take a look,” Mason said.
”I'll take a look,” the chief of police said, pus.h.i.+ng forward.
”What is it, Ellen?”
Ellen Robb reopened the lid, then pulled forward the elastic which held closed one of the compartments in the lining of the suitcase. A wad of currency had been thrust hurriedly into this compartment.
”I'll take that into my custody,” the chief of police said.
Mason moved so that he interposed a shoulder between the officer and the suitcase. ”We'll count it,” he said.
Ellen Robb glanced at him in questioning panic, then with trembling fingers counted the money. ”Five hundred and sixty-eight dollars,” she said.
”Good,” Mason told her. ”We'll give George credit for that on the amount of back wages due and our claims against him for defamation of character.”
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