Part 12 (1/2)
”You're a deep one,” she said.
Mason said, ”Ellen, I want to know one thing. I want you to tell me the truth.”
”What is it?”
”Were you cutting corners with Helman Ellis?”
”Why?”
”George Anc.l.i.tas says you were. His partner, Slim Marcus, says you were.”
”Slim!” she blazed. ”He's a great one. That guy was making pa.s.ses at me from the moment I came on the job, pulling the kind of stuff on me that the way to get ahead was to co-operate with the people who could help me and--”
”Never mind that,” Mason said. ”I'm talking about Ellis.”
”Ellis,” she said, ”I think was . . . well, fascinated.”
”How about you?” Mason asked. ”Did you give him a tumble?”
”I strung him along a little bit. I was supposed to. I--”
Knuckles sounded on the door.
She looked at Mason in surprise, then called, ”Who is it?”
”Police,” Lt. Tragg's voice said. ”Will you open up, please? We want to ask you some questions.”
”This is it,” Mason said.
She hurriedly b.u.t.toned her blouse.
Mason walked to the door, opened it and said, ”Why, how are you, Lieutenant?”
”You!” Tragg said.
”Whom did you expect?”
Tragg took a deep breath. ”I should have expected you. Where's Ellen Robb?”
”I'm Ellen Robb. What's the trouble?”
Ellen Robb stepped forward.
Tragg sized her up. ”You know Helman Ellis of Rowena?” he asked.
”Yes. Why?”
”His wife, Nadine?”
”Yes.”
”Any trouble with Nadine?”
”Now, wait a minute,” Mason said. ”Before you start throwing a lot of questions at my client, let's find out what it's all about.”
”That's a good one,” Tragg said. ”No idea what it's all about, eh? What are you doing here if you don't know what it's all about?”
Mason said, ”I am suing George Anc.l.i.tas and his partners for claims which Miss Robb has against George for giving her a black eye, for kicking her out of her room and into the cruel, cold world when she was garbed only in her professional working attire, consisting of little more than a pair of tights and a look of extreme innocence.
”In case you want all of the details, I have just had the papers prepared in my office and I came here to get Miss Robb to sign them.”
”We'll look around,” Tragg said.
”Got a warrant?”
”That's right. Here it is.”
”What are you looking for?” Mason asked.
”A murder weapon, in case you didn't know.”
”Who's dead?” Mason asked.
Tragg smiled and shook his head.
”Now, you look here,” Ellen Robb said, ”you can't pin--”
”Shut up, Ellen,” Mason said. ”I'll do all the talking.”
”That's what you think,” Tragg told him. ”You're leaving.”
”Not until you've finished with the search,” Mason said.
”Look around,” Tragg told a plain-clothes man who was with him.
Tragg seated himself on the bed, looked from Mason to Ellen Robb. ”It certainly is lucky finding you here. Let's take a look at those papers you say she just signed.”
Mason opened his brief case, took out the signed copies, said, ”Here you are, Lieutenant.”
Lt. Tragg carefully inspected the signature of Ellen Robb. ”It looks as though she had just signed it,” he said. ”Perhaps she did. I--”
”Lieutenant,” the plain-clothes man said.
Tragg turned.
”This way,” the plain-clothes man said.
Tragg stood, peering down at the revolver that had been uncovered in the suitcase.
”Well, well, well! What's this?” he asked.