The Case of the Fenced-In Woman (15 page)

"Take care of yourself," she pleaded.

"I'll do my best," he promised, and said good night.

The lawyer remained in his room, impatiently pacing the floor, looking at his wristwatch a dozen times every ten minutes.

At length the phone rang. Mason hurriedly picked it up.

"Hello."

"Mr. Mason?"

"Yes."

"This is the bell captain. I'll be right down with the things. We have everything."

"That's fine," Mason told him.

A few moments later the bell captain arrived with a suitcase, opened it and removed a briefcase and a small nylon toilet kit.

"I just had to use my judgment, Mr. Mason," he said. "I-"

"Fine," Mason told him. "How much does it amount to?"

"We have one hundred and one dollars and thirty – five cents here. Now, if that's satisfactory…"

"That's quite satisfactory," Mason said, handing him a hundred – dollar bill and a fifty – dollar bill, "and I certainly appreciate all you've done."

"Thanks a lot," the bell captain said. "If that luggage isn't satisfactory…"

"But it is," Mason said, inspecting the luggage. "It's just what I wanted. I'm glad that you were able to get the lettering done tonight."

"Caught them just as they were closing up," the captain said. "They keep open at night, you know. That's when most of the curios are sold, and the luggage store is part of the curio shop. Thank you very much, Mr. Mason. If there's anything else we can do for you, just let us know."

"I will," Mason promised.

Mason opened the briefcase he had found in his room, transferred the negotiable securities to the new briefcase, put the empty briefcase in the new suitcase, locked the suitcase, put the key in his pocket and sauntered out to the casino, aware that the plainclothes detective was following only a few feet behind.

After a few moments at the tables the young woman who had pressed against him when she was making her bets came over toward him with eyes sparkling.

"I just wanted to say thanks."

"For what?" Mason asked.

"For luck. My, but you brought me luck! I was having hard sledding until I came over to where you were standing and… Well, I got off balance and…" She paused, smiled and said, "Then I brushed against you-against your arm…"

"I remember," Mason said.

"Well, that contact certainly brought me luck," she said.

"Perhaps I could bring you some more," Mason told her.

"I've had plenty for one evening."

"How about a drink?"

"That could probably be arranged," she said archly but with invitation in her eyes.

"You come here often?" Mason asked, leading her to the bar.

"I'm here most of the time," she said. "I can't stay away from gambling. How did you do tonight?"

"Fairly well," Mason told her. "Nothing spectacular."

"Well, you certainly can give a person luck by induction."

"It was a pleasure to me," Mason said.

She laughed nervously. "I brushed against you rather intimately."

The waiter stood at their table.

"A Scotch and soda, Bob," she said.

"A gin and tonic for me," Mason ordered.

When the waiter had left, Mason turned to her. "My name is Mason," he said.

"How do you do, Mr. Mason? I'm Paulita Marchwell."

"You live here?" Mason asked.

"In Las Vegas."

"And the tables have a fatal fascination for you?"

"I love it here. I just love the place, the atmosphere, the people, the action-the whole thing. I guess gambling is in my blood.

"However, let's talk about you. You don't live here, do you? You have 'big businessman' stamped all over you, only you're different from most of the businessmen. There's an alert something about you… You're not a doctor?… You… Good heavens! Is your first name Perry?"

Mason nodded.

"Perry Mason, the famous lawyer!" she exclaimed. "Good Lord, I should have known-there's something outstanding about you, something that creates the impression of being a tower of strength. Now that sounds very sophomoric, Mr. Mason, but… Well, I'm going to make a confession. I had noticed you earlier in the evening. Weren't you with some woman?"

"One of the hostesses here, I believe. A Miss Hyde."

"Oh, Genevieve," she said. "I…"

She paused and laughed.

"Why the light laughter?" Mason asked.

"I know her well."

"Friends?"

"Not exactly. Speaking acquaintances. And-well, I guess you could call it friends in a way. We.. we get along."

The waiter brought their drinks.

"Here's to you," Mason said. She clicked glasses with the lawyer. Her eyes, enormous under her short, gamin haircut, looked over the rim of the glass with appreciation she made no attempt to disguise.

"Have you lived here long?" Mason asked.

She said nervously, "I came here for the cure."

"The cure?" Mason asked.

"You know. The six – weeks' cure. Live here six weeks, establish a residence, get rid of your marital mistake and be on your way to commit fresh follies.

"However, in my case I liked it here so well that I just stayed on. You get to know the place and the people and- well, it's fascinating, Mr. Mason, completely, utterly fascinating."

"Then," Mason said, "you're Mrs. Marchwell, rather than-"

"Paulita, to you," she said, flashing him a sultry glance. "What are you here for, Mr. Mason? Business?"

"In a way," Mason said.

"Not business involving Genevieve, is it?"

"It's hard to say who may become involved."

"Genevieve," she said, "is quite a girl."

"She seems to be."

"She goes overboard every now and then."

"You mean for some man?"

She nodded. Mason waited.

"Some big – shot contractor from Los Angeles made a play for her and she was crazy about him and then he- Well, he kept making passes at me and I think Genevieve is furious."

Mason's eyes narrowed. "The name wouldn't be Carson, would it?"

She stiffened abruptly. Her eyes changed expression. Her countenance became a poker face of immobility.

"Well?" Mason asked.

"How did you know?"

"My business concerns Carson, in a way."

"In what way?"

"He's dead."

"Dead!"

Mason nodded. "Murdered."

"Good heavens!" Paulita exclaimed. "You… When did all this happen?"

"This morning sometime, or perhaps early afternoon."

For several seconds she was silent, then she heaved a deep sigh. "Well," she said, "that's the way things go. Poor Loring. He was a good guy-once a person got to understand him."

Again she lapsed into silence.

"Does Genevieve know?" she asked at length.

Mason nodded.

She said, "Genevieve was really wrapped up in him. She… So that's why she came back from Los Angeles so early."

"Back from Los Angeles?" Mason asked, instantly attentive.

She nodded.

"You mean Genevieve was in Los Angeles today?"

"Sure. She took the plane yesterday and stayed overnight. I thought she was going to stay overnight tonight, but she was back here around four o'clock in the afternoon."

Mason's eyes narrowed.

Paulita said, "You're looking very professional, Mr. Mason. I suppose it's because she didn't tell you she'd been in Los Angeles; but I must warn you, Genevieve is one of the most secretive persons I know. When you get to know her better you'll find she won't lie, but she certainly can lead you to reach false conclusions by simply keeping silent."

"You're sure she was in Los Angeles?" Mason asked.

"Of course I'm sure. She came back on the plane that gets in here shortly after four o'clock; four – seventeen, or four – nineteen, something like that. I saw her come in on the bus from the airport. She-"

Lieutenant Tragg's voice said, "I'm very sorry to interrupt, Perry, but another matter has come up. Now, you've already met Sergeant Camp. And this is Miss…"

Tragg turned inquiringly to the young woman.

"Marchwell," Mason said. "This is Miss Marchwell. There was something that you wanted, Lieutenant?"

"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry to bother you and it seems to me we're making confounded nuisances of ourselves, Mason, but Sergeant Camp has received an anonymous tip-one of those things that are the nightmare of all police investigators. However, this one is something that we can't ignore. It was a tip that was sent in over the telephone and it was- Well, we thought we'd better check it, that's all.

"We don't want to bother you, Mason, and I certainly hate to interrupt a tete – a – tete, but perhaps you could answer that question."

"What question?" Mason asked.

"We'd like to know if your clients, either Vivian Carson or Morley Eden, paid you a fee in negotiable securities-stocks, bonds or things of that sort."

"They did not."

"Let's get right down to brass tacks," Sergeant Camp said. "Did either of your clients give you some negotiable securities made in the name of Seymour?"

"No."

"Did your clients, or either of them, ask you to do anything in connection with converting negotiable securities into cash?"

"No."

"Or are you keeping any securities for your clients, or either of them, or did they give you any instructions in connection with any securities which they turned over to you either directly or indirectly?"

"No."

Tragg looked at Camp. "Mason won't lie."

"I still say we've got to investigate his room," Sergeant Camp said.

Lieutenant Tragg's eyes narrowed. "Perry Mason is truthful. He'll either run you around in circles or he'll drag a red herring across the trail, or he'll squeeze out of things some way, but if he tells you something definitely and straight from the shoulder, it's true."

"I have to investigate this tip," Sergeant Camp said doggedly.

"How do you propose to investigate it?" Mason asked.

"Would you mind stepping down to your room for a moment?"

"I'm busy at the moment."

"That's quite all right," Tragg said. "We'll sit down over here at a table and when you're finished we'll go on down to your room. Or perhaps you'd like to let us have your key and-"

"You got a warrant?" Mason asked.

"We don't really need a warrant," Camp said, "but we can get one. This is a public hotel and the management is always willing to cooperate."

"My baggage isn't public," Mason said, "but I'm willing to cooperate. However, I don't want to leave…"

Paulita Marchwell said hurriedly, "No, no. You go with the gentlemen, Mr. Mason. I certainly don't want to interfere in anything of this sort."

She smiled at Sergeant Camp. "I know the Las Vegas police would want to cooperate with me in every way, and I want to cooperate with them."

She got to her feet, gave Mason her hand. "Nice to have met you, Mr. Mason. Perhaps I can see you again under other circumstances when you can-have more time."

She gave him a significant look, turned and floated away.

Mason pushed back his unfinished drink and said, "Well, you fellows certainly seem to have spoiled things for me there."