The Case of the Caretaker's Cat (12 page)

"We'll take a look in the closet," Mason said.

They walked back to the closet. Drake's flashlight illuminated the dark corners, showed a pile of dirty clothes. Drake pulled clothes from the top of the pile and then paused as the beam of the flashlight illuminated blood-spattered garments.

"Well," he said, "that's that."

Mason kicked the clothes back in the corner.

"Okay, Paul, we're finished here."

"I'll say," the detective agreed. "What's the technical definition of what we're doing here?"

"That," Mason said, "depends on whether I define it or whether a district attorney does. Come on, let's get going."

They left the apartment, switching out the lights, and pulling the spring lock shut behind them.

"Let's hunt up that preacher," Mason suggested.

"He won't come to the door," Drake objected, "and let us in just to answer questions – not at this hour of the morning. He'll be more than likely to call the police."

"We'll use Della," Mason said, "and let him think it's an elopement."

He had Drake drive to a restaurant where there was a telephone, and called Della Street's apartment. He heard her sleepy voice coming over the wire.

"Getting to be a habit with me, waking you up like this," he said. "How would you like to elope?"

There was a quick, gasping intake in her breath.

"I mean," Mason explained, "make a person think you're eloping."

"Oh," she said tonelessly. "Like that, eh?"

"That's the sketch," Mason told her. "Get on some things and we'll be out there. It'll be a new experience for you. You're going to drive in a car that'll send ripples up and down your backbone every time you hit a bump in the street, so don't worry about taking a shower; you can be massaged into wakefulness."

Paul Drake was yawning prodigiously as Mason hung up the telephone.

"The first night is always the hardest," he said; "after that I get accustomed to going without sleep on your cases. Some day, Perry, we're going to get caught and go to jail. Why the hell don't you sit in your office and let cases come to you the way other lawyers do?"

"For the same reason a hound doesn't like to follow a cold scent," Mason said. "I like my cases served up while they're hot."

"I'll say they're hot!" the detective agreed. "Some day we'll both get our fingers burnt."

Drake remarked lugubriously, "Why should people laugh at a marriage? Marriage is a serious business."

Della Street moaned. "I should have known better than to stage an elopement with a couple of confirmed bachelors. You're so darned afraid some fish might steal the bait, you don't dare let your line get near the water."

Perry Mason stepped close to Della Street, put his arm around her and drew her close to him. "The trouble with us is, we haven't even got a line," he said.

A light in a hallway clicked on. Della Street kicked Paul Drake in the shin with the heel of her shoe and said, "Hurry up and laugh."

She broke into a peal of light, merry laughter, as a porch light flooded the trio with dazzling brilliance.

The detective gave a grimace of pain, rubbed his shin, and said mirthlessly, "Ha, ha."

The door opened some two or three inches. A safety chain snapped taut. A man's eyes stared out at them cautiously.

"Reverend Milton?" asked Perry Mason.

"Yes."

"We wanted to see you… about… a marriage."

The man's eyes showed extreme disapproval. "It's no time to be getting married," he said.

Mason took a wallet from his pocket, took out a five-dollar bill, then another five-dollar bill, then a third, and a fourth. "I'm sorry," he remarked, "that we awakened you."

After a moment, Milton slipped off the safety chain, opened the door and said, "Come in. Have you a license?"

Mason stood to one side while Della Street entered the hallway; then he and Drake crowded in. Drake kicked the door shut. Mason moved so he was between the inner door to the hallway and the man who wore dressing gown, pajamas and slippers.

"You received a call tonight from a chap by the name of Oafley," Mason said.

"What has that to do with this marriage?" Milton demanded.

"That's the marriage we came to see you about."

"I'm sorry. You got in here under false representations. You said you wished to be married. I don't care to answer any questions whatever about Mr. Oafley."

Perry Mason arched his eyebrows in surprise, then frowned and said belligerently, "Look here, what are you talking about – getting in here by false representations?"

"You said you wanted to be married."

"I said no such thing," Mason retorted. "We told you that we wanted to see you about a marriage. It was Oafley's marriage to Edith DeVoe."

"You didn't say that."

"Well, we're saying it now."

"I'm very sorry, gentlemen, but I have nothing to say."

Mason looked significantly at Paul Drake, nodded his head toward a wall telephone which was near the hall door and said, "Okay, Paul, call Police Headquarters."

Drake strode to the telephone. Milton made a grimace, wet his lips nervously with the tip of his tongue, and said in surprise, "Police Headquarters?"

"Certainly," Mason said.

"Who are you?" Milton demanded.

"That man," the lawyer remarked, indicating Drake by a nod of his head, "is a detective."

"Look here," Milton said nervously, "I don't want to get into any trouble over this thing."

"I didn't think you did… Wait a minute, Paul. Don't call Headquarters right away. It may be this man's innocent."

"Innocent!" Milton blazed. "Of course, I'm innocent. I performed a marriage ceremony and that's all."

Mason's face showed utter incredulity. "And didn't know the woman had a husband living?" he asked.

"Of course, I didn't know the woman had a husband living. What are you insinuating? Do you mean to intimate that I'd perform a bigamous marriage knowing that it was bigamous?"

Milton's voice rose in quavering indignation.

Della Street stepped forward, slipped her arm through his and said soothingly, "It's all right. Don't lose your temper. That isn't what the Chief meant."

"The Chief?" Milton remarked, his eyes bulging.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Della Street remarked. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Just who are you and what do you want?" Milton asked.

"I'll answer your second question first. We want to know exactly what time you performed a marriage ceremony between Edith DeVoe and Frank Oafley."

Milton was now only too willing to talk.

"The parties were very anxious to keep the ceremony secret, but I didn't suspect it was a bigamous marriage. I received a call at approximately nine o'clock, asking me to come to a certain address. The party who called me on the telephone stated that it was a matter of the greatest importance, but didn't say what it was. He did say, however, that I would be very well compensated. I went to the address. I found Mr. Oafley, whom I had met previously, and a young woman who was introduced as Miss Edith DeVoe. They had a marriage license, properly issued, and, as a minister of the Gospel, I solemnized a marriage."

"Were there witnesses?"

"There were some men next door who were engaged in a little… er… gathering. I think perhaps they were playing cards. Mr. Oafley stepped to the door and asked them to witness the marriage ceremony."

"What time was the ceremony performed?"

"About ten o'clock."

"When did you leave there?"

"Twenty minutes later. There was quite a bit of good-natured chaffing. The men were very nice, very cordial, very… well, er, convivial. There was a little party… Of course, I didn't touch anything myself, and I can't say that I approved of the spirit of the occasion, but, nevertheless, they were interesting people, and it was impossible to leave immediately."

"You mean they drank a toast to the health of the bride and groom?"

"To the health of the bride, the health of the groom, to my health."

"Do you know exactly what time you left?"

"No, it was around ten fifteen, perhaps a few minutes later than that."

"Were you well paid?" Perry Mason asked.

"Very well paid, very well paid, indeed."

Mason said slowly, "How long had you known Frank Oafley?"

"He has been in my church on several occasions."

"A regular member?"

"No. Not a regular member. I wouldn't class him as such, but he has been there, and I have met him."

"He introduced you to the young woman?"

"Yes. And the apartment was in her name, 'Edith DeVoe.'"

"Did they tell you why they were anxious to have the marriage kept secret?"

"No, they didn't. I understood there was some question of opposition on the part of relatives. I think the young woman was a nurse, and Mr. Oafley is, I believe, of rather a wealthy family. However, I paid little attention to that. I performed the marriage ceremony and…"

"Kissed the bride, I presume," Mason interrupted with a laugh.

The Reverend Milton failed to see any ground for humor in the remark. He said very seriously, "As a matter of fact, I did not. The bride kissed me as I was leaving."

Mason nodded to Paul Drake, reached for the knob of the outer door. "That's all," he said.

"Was the marriage bigamous?"

"In view of what you tell me," Mason said, "I don't think it was. But I was checking up on it. You know, marriages that are performed under such circumstances are always open to suspicion."

The trio slipped hastily through the door into the night, leaving Milton blinking after them in bewildered appraisal. Then he slammed the door shut, and they heard the clink of the safety chain as it was slid into position, and the rasp of the bolt.

"I'm a lawyer," Mason remarked, "and darn seldom even bother to lock my door. This chap is supposed to have all sorts of faith in human nature, and he barricades himself behind a lot of thief-proof doodads."

"I know," Della Street said with a nervous giggle, "but brides don't have to follow you to the door to kiss you."

Mason chuckled.

"What's next?" Paul Drake asked.

"If we can survive the ordeal of another journey in that car of yours, we're going to see Winnie."

"You know where to find her at this hour of the night?" Drake asked.

"Yes. She lives back of the waffle place."

"We don't want to make a racket there. There'll be a merchants' patrol and…"

"We'll telephone her and tell her we're coming," Mason said. "That is, I'll tell her I'm coming. I'll introduce you two after we get there."

"Has it ever occurred to you," Drake asked slowly, "that this marriage ceremony was taking place at just about the time Ashton was being murdered in his room, thereby giving both Oafley and Edith DeVoe iron-clad alibis?"

"A lot has occurred to me," Mason said, "that I'm not discussing right now. Let's go."

They piled into Drake's car. Mason stopped the car once to telephone Winifred he was coming, and then, when Drake had parked the car in front of the Waffle Kitchen, motioned them to silence as he placed them in the shadows near the doorway, while he stood in front of the plate-glass door, and pounded with his knuckles.

A moment later he saw a bit of diffused light come from the door at the end of the passageway, and then Winifred's supple figure, attired in a flowing silk negligee, glided toward him. She shot the bolt and opened the door.

"What is it?" she asked.

Mason said, "You know Paul Drake. He was with me the first time I came here, and this is Della Street, my secretary."

Winifred gave a little exclamation of dismay. "I didn't know I was to meet people," she said, "and I don't want anyone to know about…"

"That's all right," Mason told her. "No one knows anything at all. We want to talk with you."

He pushed the door open, then when his companions had entered, carefully closed it. Winifred led the way down the corridor to the bedroom, which apparently was just as Perry Mason had last seen it, except that the bed had been slept in.

"Where's Douglas Keene?" Mason asked.

She frowned, and said, "I told you all that I knew about him."

"I don't want you to think I'm betraying any confidences," Mason told her, "but it's necessary that these people know what's happening, because they've got to help us. Paul Drake is a detective who works for me, and Della Street is my secretary, who knows everything that goes on. You can absolutely trust their discretion. Now I want to know where Douglas Keene is."

She blinked her eyes-rapidly, as though about to cry, but faced them steadily, saying, "I don't know where he is; all I know is he sent me a message saying that he was going to leave, where no one would ever find him."

"Let's take a look at the message."

She pulled back the pillow, and produced an envelope on the outside of which her name had been written. There was no other writing on the envelope, no address and no stamp. She opened the envelope and took from it a folded piece of paper. After a moment's hesitation, she handed the paper to Perry Mason.

Mason, standing near the center of the room, his feet spread wide apart, shoulders squared, read the message with expressionless features. When he had finished, he said, "I'm going to read this aloud," and then read in a monotone: "'Darling: I am up against a combination of circumstances I can't beat. I lost my head and made a mistake, and I'll never have any opportunity to rectify that mistake. Please believe that I'm innocent of any crime, but you'll need lots of faith to hold that belief in the face of the evidence which will be presented. I am going out of your life forever. The police will never catch me. I am far too clever to walk into the traps which catch the ordinary fugitive from justice. I'll travel by plane, and no one will ever find me. Ashton had the Koltsdorf diamonds concealed in his crutch. He had hollowed out a hiding place for them. The diamonds are still there. Give the police an anonymous tip and let them trace the crutch. I shall always love you, but I am not going to drag your name through the mire of a murder trial. Try and make Ashton talk. He can tell a lot. Lovingly yours – Douglas.'"

Mason stared steadily at the letter for a while, then suddenly whirled to face Winifred Laxter.

"You didn't show me that note when I was here before," he said.

"No, I didn't have it."

"When did you get it?"

"It was slipped under the door."

"After I left?"

"Yes, I guess so. It must have been if you didn't see it there when you went out."

"You said Douglas had telephoned you."

"Yes."

"He didn't tell you this about the diamonds over the telephone?"

"No."

"How did he know where the diamonds were?"

"I don't know; I only know what's in the note."

"You love him?"

"Yes."

"Were engaged to him."