Part 11 (1/2)
Fenwick's eyes widened. ”How did you know?” he asked.
Mason grinned.
”Well,” Fenwick said, ”after all, Mason, we're both of us grown up. Think this proposition over, will you?”
Mason shook his head. ”I'm busy with trial work,” he said. ”I don't have many interests outside of that.”
”Well, you sure knew some law that threw a monkey wrench in the machinery of our organization,” Fenwick said. ”Boy, they got me on the telephone and told me to get down here so fast it'd make your head swim. I was on a vacation down at Acapulco and had a very pleasant, understanding little companion along with me. Wham! Boy, did I get a telephone call! Get on the plane, get up to Rowena, talk with George Anc.l.i.tas, talk with Perry Mason, talk with Darwin Gowrie, talk with Mrs. Helman Ellis!”
”You evidently made good time,” Mason said.
”I made good time. I can get along without sleep when I have to and still keep going.”
Fenwick hesitated for a moment, then met Mason's eyes. ”Well, why not?” he asked. ”Sure, I've seen Gowrie.”
”And what about Mrs. Ellis?”
”I'm looking for her,” Fenwick said. ”That's why I'm still hanging around here. We can't find her. She is in some kind of a ruckus with her husband. She was away for a while. Her husband thinks she was in Arizona. But she came back early this morning, then got in the family yacht and sailed off somewhere.”
”Where?” Mason asked.
”I wish I knew. I'm figuring Ensenada on a guess. I've got men covering Ensenada and Catalina. The minute her boat shows up, I'll take a plane and go talk to her. I was going to ring you up at your office and make an appointment. Finding you here has saved me a lot of trouble.”
”I understood Mrs. Ellis was looking around in Arizona,” Mason said.
”That's where she was. She didn't stay long. The party she was looking for wasn't where she expected to find her. She got a hot tip from some place and came back here, all worked up. She thought she'd been deliberately sent on a wild-goose chase.”
”Who tipped her off?” Mason asked.
”I don't know. I heard about it, that's all, just the sort of gossip a man can pick up.”
Mason stretched and yawned.
”Look here,” Fenwick said, ”I'm not an attorney, Mr. Mason, and I'm not in a position to question your judgment about the law, but if--now, I'm just saying if--that decision you mentioned is out of line with the law generally or if there's been a rehearing, or if the case hasn't been decided by the State Supreme Court and this represents just an outstanding departure from the ordinary doctrine of law, I know you'd want to be the first to find out about it.
”Now, I'll tell you that we've got a battery of highpriced lawyers looking into this thing and we'll know the answer within a day or two. If, of course, your ideas about the law are wrong, you'd want to be the first one to correct the erroneous impression you gave Mrs. Ellis.
”Now, as I told you, we're willing to pay for research. We don't want you to start looking this point up for nothing. In fact, I'm authorized to give you fifteen thousand dollars just to start looking it up.”
There was silence for a moment.
”In cash,” Fenwick said.
”I heard you the first time,” Mason said. ”Right at the moment I'm busy. I won't be able to do any research work.”
Fenwick extended his pudgy hand. ”Well, you know where I stand, Mason. Think it over--but if you're too busy to research the point, my a.s.sociates here in Rowena certainly wouldn't want to do anything that would interrupt your schedule.”
”In other words,” Mason said, ”if I'm so d.a.m.ned busy, why don't I stay in my office and mind my own business.”
”Something like that.” Fenwick grinned, gripping Mason's hand.
The chief of police touched two fingers of his right hand to the brim of his cap, turned back toward the police car. Fenwick walked back and joined him. The car purred into motion, glided past Mason's automobile and turned to the left down the block.
Mason turned on his lights.
Della Street came out to stand by the edge of the swimming pool.
Mason started his car, drove out of the alley, across the street and swung in close to the curb.
Della Street, moving rapidly, walked across to the car, jerked the door open and jumped in.
”Everything okay?” he asked.
”Everything okay,” she said. ”There was one other woman in the place. When she had the attendant occupied, I went to work. There was a washbowl with open plumbing, and I got the tube of ice suspended from the two shut-off valves just as you suggested. The gun's out of sight unless someone should happen to get down on the floor and look up.”
”Okay,” Mason said, ”we'll be on our way.”
”I see that you had company.”
”The chief of police and a lobbyist for the gambling interests,” Mason said.
”What do the gambling interests want?”
”To retain me,” Mason said. ”They think I'm working too hard. They'd like to pay our expenses to Acapulco and have us keep out of circulation for a while.”
”And you told them?” Della Street asked.
”That I was busy,” Mason said.
”And so, now?” she asked.
”Now,” Mason said, ”we get out of Rowena--fast.”
CHAPTER EIGHT.
Thursday afternoon, while Della Street was out of the office on an errand, the unlisted telephone in Mason's office buzzed its signal.
Mason, knowing that Paul Drake was the only outsider in possession of the unlisted number, dropped the book he was reading, picked up the telephone, said, ”h.e.l.lo. What is it?”
Paul Drake's voice, clipped with urgency, came over the phone. ”Perry, have you heard from your client in that Rowena case?”
”Ellen Robb?”
”Yes.”
”I haven't heard from her all day, Paul. Why?”