The Case of the Dangerous Dowager (19 page)

Drake said, "If that's the case, how did it happen you…"

"Wait a minute," Mason interrupted, without taking his eyes from Belgrade's face, "let me handle this, Paul."

Drake started to say something, then checked himself, and settled back in his chair.

"Then what happened?" Mason asked.

"Well," Belgrade said, "by the time the speed boat got back to the ship, the landing-stage had been pulled up and they told us they were making some repairs to it, that it would only be for a few minutes, and for us to stand by. We stuck around there for some little time, and then a launch came out with officers aboard, and we heard there'd been a murder. They told us to turn around and put back to the wharf, that no one could come aboard, and there'd be no more gambling.

"That started me thinking. I was doing a lot of thinking all the way back to the wharf. When we arrived, a bunch of newspaper men who'd been rushed down were questioning everyone who came off the speed boats. Now, one of the reporters knew me and knew what I did for a living. He started asking me questions, and found out from what I told him that I could give him a story if I wanted to, so he took me in and telephoned his city editor and the city editor sent another man down to cover the story on the boat and had my friend take me into Los Angeles.

"They made me a proposition and it just meant so much to me I couldn't afford to turn it down. I didn't figure it made any great amount of difference to you fellows. They told me that Mr. Mason was aboard and had been arrested; that the whole story was bound to come out within the next twenty-four hours, but they wanted an exclusive on it. They said I didn't have anything to gain by keeping quiet, and that I was going to lose a lot of money if I didn't tell them. It sounded reasonable to me, so I told them what I knew. Then the editor got the idea he could string it out for a couple of follow-ups and wanted to keep me sewed up where no one could get at me. But one of the other reporters had seen what happened, and somehow the Federal District Attorney got tipped off to where I was. The newspaper tried to keep me under cover, and the United States Marshal's office kept trying to serve a subpoena. The marshal's office won out, and just as soon as they served that subpoena on me, the newspaper dropped me like a hot potato. They figured I couldn't be any good to them any more. I got a piece of change for the first story and that's all."

"How about that report you telephoned me?" Drake asked.

"What do you mean, how about it?" Belgrade asked.

"I want to know whether it was accurate."

Belgrade flushed. "Of course it was accurate. I told you the absolute truth. Just because I saw an opportunity to make a piece of change on the side without hurting anyone, doesn't mean that I'm a crook."

"Have you," Mason asked, "reported everything which happened out on the gambling ship?"

"Why, yes, of course – that is, I reported it to Mr. Drake over the telephone."

"You followed Sylvia Oxman out to the ship?"

"Yes."

"Now, how long was she aboard before she went down to the offices?"

"Not very long. I didn't keep an accurate count of the minutes. She went in and had a drink, checked her coat, and then went down to the offices."

"How long after that before I showed up?"

"I'd say about eight or ten minutes, but remember, Mr. Mason, before you showed up, Frank Oxman was prowling around there."

"How did you know…" Drake began, but was silenced by a warning glance from the lawyer.

"Then, after Oxman had left, I entered. Is that right?" Mason asked.

"That's right. Then, after you'd been in there for a while, Sylvia Oxman came out. Then Duncan and this deputy marshal dashed in there. Then in about ten minutes the marshal brought you out and you were handcuffed."

"Now, let's get this straight," Mason interposed. "Sylvia had already left the offices?"

"That's right."

"And you were supposed to be shadowing her?"

"Yes, sir, I was."

"But after she went out, you still continued to keep an eye on the offices. Now which were you doing, watching the offices or shadowing Sylvia?"

"Both, Mr. Mason. Mrs. Oxman had taken a seat at one of the crap tables. I stood where I could watch her and the entrance to the offices at the same time."

"All right, go on – tell me what else you saw."

"Well, Duncan came out, and then Mrs. Oxman went up on deck. I followed her up there."

"How long after you saw me leaving the offices was it that Duncan came out?"

"Three or four minutes – not very long."

"How long after that did Sylvia go up on deck?"

"Almost immediately, Mr. Mason."

"Then what?"

"That's all. I followed Mrs. Oxman ashore, and then Staples told me to check out…"

"Now, wait a minute," Mason interrupted. "Have you told us absolutely everything that happened, Belgrade?"

"Why, yes, as nearly as I can remember it."

"Did you speak to Sylvia?"

Belgrade's face twisted with sudden expression. "Yes, that's right I did tell Sylvia to beat it because her husband was aboard."

"Ah," Mason said. "Now we're getting somewhere. Just why did you tell Sylvia to beat it?"

Belgrade said, "I knew something was wrong. I didn't know what it was, but I could see that you were handcuffed when you came out of that office. Now, you're a big-time lawyer. No one's going to handcuff you unless something pretty serious has happened. I had an idea you were covering for Sylvia and that you'd want her off the ship, but I didn't know how to get her off. Then suddenly it occurred to me I could stick my head out the door and say, 'Your husband's aboard, beat it,' and then duck back out of sight, make a dash for the speed boat, and get myself aboard. I figured Sylvia would come rushing down from the deck and take that same speed boat. If she didn't, I could pretend I'd changed my mind and get off."

"And that's what you did?"

"Yes, sir. I ran down and got a seat in the speed boat and she followed within less than a minute."

"Now," Mason told him, "I'll ask a question Paul Drake was going to ask a minute ago. How did you happen to know Sylvia Oxman's husband?"

Belgrade twisted uneasily in his chair, glanced at his wife, then dropped his eyes to inspect the toes of his shoes.

"Go ahead," Mason told him. "You're in this thing pretty deep, George. Half-way measures won't get you out of it. You'll have to come clean."

Belgrade raised his eyes to Mason's. "I'd prefer not to answer that question, Mr. Mason."

"You'll have to."

"I'd be betraying a confidence someone had placed in me."

Drake's laugh was sarcastic. "You haven't shown any reticence about betraying confidences so far," he said.

"Shut up, Paul," Mason remarked, without taking his eyes from Belgrade's face. "What is it, George?"

"I worked for Frank Oxman," Belgrade blurted.

"When?"

"About a month ago."

"How long did you work for him?"

"A little over two weeks."

"How did you happen to work for him?"

"Oxman contacted an agency where I'd been doing some work," Belgrade said. "He was looking for an experienced operative. The agency took a cut and referred him to me.

"You understand how it is, Mr. Mason. Us detectives don't work steadily. We work by the job. For instance, you'll have a job for Drake's agency and Drake will hire ten or fifteen, or perhaps twenty of us boys who are registered with him. We're also registered with half a dozen other agencies. When we're not working for one agency we work for another. That enables us to work more or less steadily, but keeps the agencies from carrying a big pay-roll when they ain't busy."

"Then you register with various agencies in advance?" Mason asked.

"That's right."

"And you furnish references or something of that sort?"

"Oh, sure. We have to fill out a questionnaire, give references, tell all about our past employment, the amount of our experience, the type of work we're best adapted to, whether we can go out in evening clothes, whether we have a car of our own, and all that sort of stuff."

"Now, Frank Oxman wanted someone to shadow his wife?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you did the job?"

"Yes, sir."

"For how long?"

"Sixteen days, I think."

"What did you find out? Anything?" Mason asked.

Belgrade lowered his eyes. "I found out enough to sympathize with her," he said, "but sympathies don't put any butter on my bread. She's every inch a lady, but she's impulsive and she's out for a good time. A couple of times men picked her up on the gambling ship, and she played around a bit with them."

"What do you mean by playing around?"

"Nothing serious."

"You reported this to Frank Oxman?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Drake asked.

"I never had a chance to," Belgrade said. "You told me you wanted me to do some work on a case Mr. Mason was interested in. You simply told me to go out to a certain address and shadow the maid who was working there. And you gave me a description. I recognized the address as that of Oxman's house, but I supposed you were working on the maid. I didn't know you were after Mrs. Oxman. Then, after a while, when I telephoned in a report that the maid was starting out with a fur coat, you told me to tail her and switch to Mrs. Oxman in case the maid contacted her. Even then, I supposed Mr. Mason was working for Frank Oxman and was getting ready to bring a divorce case or something. But, after we got on the ship, and I saw Mr. Mason apparently taking a rap for Mrs. Oxman, I knew he wasn't working for Oxman and figured there must be bigger game at stake."

"That's a hell of an explanation," Drake said skeptically.

"But it's the truth," Belgrade insisted.

"Did you know Oxman had gone ashore before his wife left the gambling ship?" Mason asked.

"No, sir, I didn't. I thought Oxman was still on the ship."

Drake said, "As far as I'm concerned, Belgrade, you're finished with detective work. You're altogether too damned loquacious for a detective."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Drake. I tried to give you a square deal."

Mrs. Belgrade's voice was bitter. "Don't give him anything, George. He pays you eight dollars a day and expenses, and expects you to give him your soul."

"Shut up, Flo," Belgrade said tonelessly.

"I won't either shut up. I think it's an outrage! You work day and night, take all sorts of chances, and are out in all kinds of weather, and what does it get you? The first time you…"

"You keep out of this, Flo," Belgrade said, raising his voice. "Don't you understand Mr. Drake can fix it so no other agency will ever employ me?"

"Well, what if he does? You got out of the detective business once, and you can get out of it again. There's lots of ways to make a living without working for a bunch of slave-drivers, who don't appreciate honesty when they see it."

"Did you see Sylvia Oxman toss a gun overboard?" Mason asked Belgrade, interrupting.

"No, sir, I didn't."

"Could she have done so without you seeing her?"

"I guess so. Yes. You see, I thought she'd taken a tumble to me. I wanted to get her off the gambling ship, and I wanted to be in the same speed boat she took; but I didn't want her to see me. I knew my only chance was to figure what speed boat she was going to take, and get aboard first. If I followed her down to the speed boat, I figured she might take a tumble. I just did the best I could, Mr. Mason."

Mason nodded to Drake and said, "I think that's all, Belgrade. Come on, Paul. Let's let Belgrade change his clothes."

"They've served you with a subpoena?" Belgrade asked Mason.

The lawyer avoided the question, saying easily as he started for the door: "You'll want to make a good impression with that Federal Grand Jury, George. I'm going to talk with Mr. Drake about you. The more I think things over, the more I realize you were placed in a very peculiar situation, one which wouldn't confront a detective once in ten years. I can understand just how you felt."

Drake's fingers closed about the lawyer's elbow. "Come on, Perry," he said.

"You're one swell guy, Mr. Mason," Belgrade said. "Do you forgive me, Mr. Drake?"

Mason said, "Don't press that question now, George. I'll have a chat with him and then we'll let you know the answer."

"Thanks a lot, Mr. Mason. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate the way you're taking this."

As the two men walked from the house, they could hear Florence Belgrade's voice rising in machine-gun rapidity. A door slammed shut, cutting off the sound. Drake remarked with feeling, "I wish you'd let me cut loose on that rat."

"No," Mason told him, "we can't afford to antagonize him now. He's important. He's going to be about the most important witness who'll appear before the Federal Grand Jury. It might be a lot better to have him feeling friendly toward our side of the case, Paul. He's already received his money from the newspaper. Personally, I don't blame him too much. I know just how he felt. He'd been working on a salary, and suddenly had an opportunity to make a wad of dough by telling something to a newspaper that he thought wouldn't make any particular trouble for anyone."