The Case of the Blonde Bonanza (18 page)

She smiled and said, "You play them rather close to your chest, don't you, Mr. Mason?"

"At times I think it is advisable," Mason said.

Abruptly she arose. "I have told you generally what I have in mind," she said, "and you might think it over. I trust that under the circumstances Dianne will not make any rash statements which would tend to make any meeting of the minds impossible?"

"Are you suggesting," Mason asked, "that I suborn perjury?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Mason." She smiled. "Any more than I am suggesting that I commit perjury. I am simply speculating with you on what would happen under certain circumstances and whether or not it would be possible to bring a situation into existence which would cause those circumstances to be established by evidence."

"It's an interesting conjecture," Mason said. "Now will you tell me exactly what happened when you entered the motel unit rented by Harrison T. Boring?"

"I never even said I was there."

"I know you were there," Mason said.

She smiled archly and said, "Then what you don't know is what I found when I entered the room."

"Exactly."

"And under normal circumstances, when would be the first time you would discover this, Mr. Mason?"

"When you were placed on the witness stand and examined by the prosecution and I had an opportunity to cross-examine you."

"And you think you could discover the true facts by cross-examination?"

"I would try."

"It's an interesting thought," she said. "And now, Mr. Mason, having given you a brief statement as to the purpose of my visit, I am not going to let you try to trap me by any further conversation."

She arose, crossed the room with the gracious manner of royalty bestowing a favor, gave Mason her hand, smiled up into his eyes and said, "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Mason."

"I trust we will meet again," Mason said.

"Oh, I'm sure of it," she told him. "My telephone is listed in the book and you can reach me at any time. I will always be available to your call."

Mason watched her down the corridor, then slowly and thoughtfully closed the door.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

At three o'clock in the morning Mason was awakened by the persistent ringing of his telephone.

Sleepily, he groped for the instrument, said "Hello," and heard Sid Nye's voice.

"Unlock your door. I'm coming up and don't want anyone to see me."

The connection was severed before Mason could say a word.

The lawyer rolled out of bed, went to the parlor of the suite and unlocked the door.

A few minutes later Sid Nye slipped into the room.

"You're not going to like this," he warned.

"Shoot," Mason said.

"They caught Moose Dillard, evidently nabbed him several hours ago."

"What do you mean they caught him?"

"He was trying to make a getaway and they nabbed him."

"How come?"

"Well, the police wanted to make a check on persons in adjoining units in the motel to see if any of them had seen or heard anything unusual. They made a door-todoor canvass and everything checked out until they came to the door of Unit 5. Then they found no one home, the door unlocked, the key on the dresser, the bed hadn't been slept in and Dillard had left the drapes slightly parted and the chair in place where he had been sitting looking across at Unit 10 with a whole ash tray full of cigarette stubs on the floor."

"Keep talking," Mason said, as Nye hesitated.

"Well, of course, we hadn't figured they'd search the other units, but they did. The story was there just as plain as if Dillard had left a written statement of what he'd been doing. There was the chair by the window, the drapes slightly parted, the tray full of cigarette stubs giving an indication of how long he'd been watching."

Mason nodded.

"The police checked on the license number of Dillard's automobile, found out it was registered to Paul" Drake, alerted the California Highway Patrol giving them the license number of Dillard's automobile and a description of the driver. They also alerted the city police with a radio bulletin. As it happened, one of the city police picked up Dillard at a service station on the outskirts of town where he was gassing up."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, they checked on Dillard's driving license, his occupation, found he was a private detective, started asking him why he was so anxious to get out of town, and intimated that he might have a little more license trouble if he didn't co-operate.

"That was all Dillard needed. He'd been through the mill once and he didn't want any more beefs."

"So he spilled everything he knew?"

"Everything. He even took them to the place where we'd "lost" the notebook. It was still there lying by the curb. They nailed it. Of course, that showed Dianne was the last one to see Boring alive, or presumably alive; that she had dashed out of the place, her manner showing great excitement and emotional disturbance.

"The bad thing is that Dillard insists Dianne was in the room almost fifteen minutes. The police didn't like that."

"And I don't like it," Mason said. "She swears she wasn't."

"Time could pass pretty fast if she was looking for something," Nye said.

"Not that fast," Mason said, frowning. "There's no chance Moose Dillard could have been mistaken?"

"Hell, no. Not on a deal like that. Moose is a little siow thinking sometimes. He's quick-tempered and he makes mistakes, but as an operative he's tops. He knows what he's doing, he keeps notes, he's a good observer and you can depend on his data."

Mason was thoughtfully silent.

"It's a hell of a mess," Sid Nye said.

"It's tough," Mason admitted, "but we're going to have to face conditions as they are and not the way we'd like to have them. You can't argue with a fact.

"Why haven't they arrested Dianne, Sid?"

"I don't know. Perhaps they're waiting for-"

The telephone rang.

Mason answered it.

Della Street said, "There's a policewoman here in the room and she has a warrant for Dianne."

"Let Dianne go with her," Mason said. "And tell Dianne not to make any statement except in my presence. Tell her to say nothing-nothing."

"I'll tell her," Della Street said.

"Stall along as much as you can, Della. I'll be down as soon as I can get some clothes on."

"Will do," she promised.

Mason started dressing, talking to Sid Nye as he hurried into his clothes.

"Sid, I want you to get out of town while the getting's good. You're not a witness to anything and therefore it won't be concealing evidence to have you hard to find. However, right at the moment I don't want the police inquiring into my activities after I came to Riverside."

"You don't want anyone to know you called on Winlock?"

Mason buttoned his shirt. "That's right, and I don't care about having the police know Winlock called on Boring… Will Dillard be able to tell them it was Winlock, his wife and stepson who called on Boring?"

"No. He doesn't have their license numbers or names. He has the general descriptions of two of the automobiles and descriptions of the people. The only license number he has is that on Dianne's car. He can, of course, make an identification if they confront him with the persons but there's nothing that would lead them to the Winlocks from his description; in fact, the Win. locks would be the last persons they'd suspect in a case of this sort."

Mason fastened his belt. "And remember, in case you're questioned, you don't know who Boring's callers were. You've only surmised-and the same is true of me.

Mason hurried down to Della Street's room and a policewoman answered his knock.

"Good morning," Mason said. "I'm Perry Mason. I'm Dianne Alder's attorney. Do I understand you're taking her into custody?"

"Yes."

"I want to talk with her."

"She isn't dressed. I'm taking her into custody. You'll have to talk with her at headquarters."

Mason raised his voice. "I'll talk to her through the door. Say absolutely nothing, Dianne. Don't tell the police about your name, your past, your parents or-"

The door slammed in the lawyer's face.

Mason waited some ten minutes in the corridor until the policewoman, accompanied by Della Street and Dianne Alder, emerged into the corridor.

"Can you take it, Dianne?" Mason asked. "Can you keep quiet?"

Dianne nodded.

The policewoman turned on him. "I don't want lawyers addressing my prisoner," she said. "If you want to consult with your client, you can come to the jail and do it in a regular manner."

"What's wrong with this?" Mason asked.

"It's against my orders. If you persist I'll have to charge you with interfering with an arrest."

"Is it a crime," Mason asked, "to advise a client in the presence of an arresting officer, that if she once starts answering any questions the point at which she stops will be considered significant, but if she doesn't answer any questions at all on the advice of her counsel, and demands an immediate hearing, she is-"

"That will do," the policewoman said angrily. "You're talking to her."

"I'm talking to you."

"Well, your words are aimed at her. I'm going to ask you and Miss Street to leave now. That's an order."

Mason smiled. "My, but you're hard to get along with."

"I can be," she said angrily.

Dianne Alder dropped a pace behind so that she was looking over the officer's shoulder at Perry Mason. She raised her forefinger to her lips in a gesture of silence.

Mason bowed to the officer. "I accede to your wishes, Madam. Come on, Della."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Carter Leland, the district attorney of Riverside County, said to the magistrate, "If the Court please, this is a simple matter of a preliminary hearing. We propose to show that the defendant in this case had a business arrangement with the decedent, Harrison T. Boring; that she became convinced Boring had swindled her, that she was exceedingly indignant, that she went to the Restawhile Motel in order to see him and did see him; that she was the last person to see Boring alive and that when she left the room Boring was in a dying condition.

"That is all we need to show, in fact more than we need to show, in order to get an order binding the defendant over for trial."

"Put on your case," Judge Warren Talent said.

"My first witness is Montrose Foster," Leland announced.

Montrose Foster came forward, held up his right hand, was sworn, seated himself nervously on the witness stand.

"Your name is Montrose Foster, you reside in Riverside and have for some two years last past? You are the president of Missing Heirs and Lost Estates?"

"That is true."

"On last Tuesday, the day of the murder as charged in the complaint, did you have occasion to talk with the defendant?"

"I did."

"Where did this conversation take place?"

"At Bolero Beach."

"Did the defendant make any statement to you about her feeling toward Harrison T. Boring?"

"She did."

"What did she say?"

"She said she could kill him."

Leland turned abruptly and unexpectedly to Perry Mason. "Cross-examine," he said.

"Is that all you're going to try to bring out on direct examination?" Mason asked.

"It's enough," Leland snapped. "I don't intend to let this preliminary hearing become a three-ring circus."

Mason turned to the witness. "Did you," he asked, "say something to the defendant that was well calcuculated to cause her to make that statement?"