The Case of the Blonde Bonanza (2 page)

"Come, come," Della Street interrupted. "You're making us all too vain, Dianne."

Mae Kirby said, "Now we're going to have one nice dry Martini and then we're going to have dinner- chicken and dumplings."

Dianne Alder said, "I've heard of Mrs. Kirby's chicken and dumplings. They're almost as famous as Perry Mason."

"You're looking forward to them?" Della Street asked.

"Am I looking forward to them? I'm simply ravenous!"

Mason and Della Street exchanged glances.

It wasn't until after the cocktails and just before sitting down to dinner that Mason was able to jockey Della Street into a corner for a hurried confidential conversation.

"What is this?" he asked. "Some sort of a trap or frame-up?"

"I don't think so," she said. "It was just a surprise Aunt Mae was planning for us. She knew that I was interested and evidently she's known Dianne for some time. She invited her to come over for dinner and meet you.

"Usually Aunt Mae is very considerate. She knows there are lots of people here who are dying to meet you, and when you're here for dinner she never invites anyone else. This time is the exception."

"Found out anything?" Mason asked.

Della shook her head and was on the point of saying something when Mae said, "Come on now, you two. You're either talking business or making love, and you shouldn't do either on an empty stomach. Come on in here and sit down. You sit there, Perry, and Della, you sit over here. Dianne can sit next to me."

Thirty minutes later when they had finished with their hot mince pie and coffee, Della Street said, "Well, it was wonderful, Aunt Mae, but I'm afraid I've put on a pound and a half."

"So have I-at least I hope I have," Dianne said.

Mason raised his eyebrows.

There was silence for a moment and then Della Street said, "You hope you have?"

"Yes, I'm trying to gain weight."

Della Street glanced at the front of the girl's dress and Dianne laughed somewhat awkwardly. "It's something I can't discuss," she said. "I know how you feel. You think I don't need it, but actually I -.. well, I have to put on another four pounds."

"What are you going to do," Della Street asked, "take up wrestling?– No, no, I didn't mean it that way, Dianne. I just wondered, the way you said it, you sounded as though you were trying to make a definite weight."

"But I am."

Mason raised his brows in a silent question.

She flushed slightly and said, "I don't know how the subject came up. I- Oh, skip it."

"Of course," Della Street said, "we don't want to pry, but now you certainly have aroused our curiosity, and I know my boss well enough to know that when his curiosity is once aroused it gnaws at his consciousness like termites in a building. You'd better tell us-that is, if it isn't too confidential."

"Well," Dianne said, "it's confidential in a way-that is, I'm not supposed to talk about it. But I know that Mrs. Kirby can be just as close-lipped as anyone. That's one thing about her, she never does gossip-and for the rest of it, I'm talking to an attorney and his secretary."

"Go ahead," Della Street invited.

"Well," Dianne said, "the truth of the matter is I'm going to model a new style."

"A new style?" Della Street asked, as Dianne broke off to laugh self-consciously.

"It sounds absolutely absurd," she said, "but I'm getting paid to put on weight and… well, that's all there is to it."

"Now, wait a minute," Della Street said. "Let's see if I get this straight. You're being paid money to put on more weight?"

"Twelve pounds from the time I started."

"Within a time limit?"

"Yes."

"And someone is paying you for it?"

"Yes. Some designers. The- Oh, I know it sounds silly and… I don't know how I got started on this. It- Well, anyway, some style designers feel that there has been too great a tendency to take off weight, that everyone is fighting weight and it isn't natural and that people would be a lot happier and feel a lot better if they didn't keep so diet conscious, if they were free to eat what they wanted.

"Of course there are people who are simply fat, and my sponsors don't want that. They have been looking for some time for a young woman who is-well, as they expressed it, firmly fleshed, who could put on enough weight to wear certain styles they wanted to bring out. They're going to photograph me and put me on television. Well, that's it. I'm to be a new sort of model, start a trend.

"You know how it is in the fashion shows. Some slender model who concentrates on being willowy and svelte comes out modeling a dress. But the women who are sitting there looking at that dress are nearly all of them twenty to thirty pounds heavier than the model.

"My sponsors have had me examined by a physician and they feel that I can keep my waist measurement and my carriage and still put on twelve to fifteen pounds and-well, they're going to try and make curves stylish… Oh, why did I get started on this?"

Dianne suddenly covered her scarlet face with her hands and said, "I feel so horribly self-conscious."

"Not at all," Mason said, "you interest me a lot. I think there's a good deal to this. You mentioned your sponsors, some style company?"

"Frankly," she said, "I don't know who the sponsors are. I'm dealing through an agency… and I'm under contract not to discuss what I'm doing with anyone."

"I see," Mason said thoughtfully.

"Are you putting weight on?" Della Street asked.

"Heavens, yes! I've had to count calories for the last five years and now I'm just reveling in having everything I want. Now I've built up my appetite to a point where I just can't resist food. I'm going to make the weight all right but the hard part is whether I can shut off the supply of food when I've made the weight. I'm afraid I'm going to overshoot the mark."

Mason said, "You certainly have the figure to make women curve-conscious and sell clothes."

"Well, of course," she said, "that's what's at the back of it. They want to sell clothes. They feel that the average woman is simply sick and tired of starving herself and that I can make-that is, that they can make a new trend in styles if they can find the right model."

"I think they've found her," Mason said. And raising his coffee cup, smiled at the highly embarrassed Dianne Alder and said, "Here's to success!"

Fifteen minutes later, however, when Mason was able to get Della Street to one side, he said, "Della, there's something terribly fishy about this whole business with Dianne Alder. She says she has a contract. Apparently it's a written contract. She seems to be a very nice girl. I would dislike very much to see her victimized. I'm going to make my excuses and leave. See if you can get a heart-to-heart, woman-to-woman talk with her and find Out more about that contract. You've been around law offices long enough to be able to spot the joker if you can get a look at it."

"If she's getting money for putting on weight," Della Street said wistfully, "she's living an ideal existence."

"Until someone jerks the rug out from under her," Mason said, "and leaves her with all those curves."

Della Street smiled. "I know how easy and rapid it is to put it on and how very slow and painful the process is of taking it off-but what in the world could anybody want with her- Well, you know, I mean why would anyone make a contract of that sort?"

Mason said, "Since she's a friend of your Aunt Mae, it might be a good plan to find out."

CHAPTER THREE

It was nine o'clock the next morning when Mason's phone rang.

"Are you decent?" Della Street asked.

"Fully clothed and in my right mind," Mason said. "Where are you?"

"I'm down in the lobby."

"What gives?"

"The contract."

"What contract? Oh, you mean with Dianne Alder?"

"Yes."

"You know what it's all about?"

"I've done better than that. I have her copy with me."

"Good," Mason said. "Come on up. I'll meet you at the elevator."

Mason met Della and asked, "Have you had breakfast?"

"No. You?"

Mason shook his head.

"I'm famished," she said.

"Come on in," Mason told her, "and we'll have some sent up to the suite and eat it out on the balcony overlooking the ocean."

The lawyer called room service and placed an order for a ham steak, two orders of fried eggs, a big pot of coffee and toast.

Della Street, walking over to the full-length mirror, surveyed herself critically. "I'm afraid," she said, "I'm being inspired by the example of Dianne Alder and am about to go overboard."

"That breakfast won't be fattening," Mason said.

"Hush," she told him. "I've been at the point where I've even been counting the calories in a glass of drinking water. And now, inspired by the example of Dianne getting paid for putting on weight, I feel that you should supplement that order with sweet rolls and hashbrown potatoes."

"Shall I?" Mason asked, reaching for the phone.

"Heavens, no!" she exclaimed. "Here, read this contract and prepare to lose a secretary. Why didn't someone tell me about this sooner?"

"Inspired?" Mason asked.

"To quote a famous phrase," Della Street said, "it's nice work if you can get it. I'm thinking of getting it. Eat all you want and get paid for it. Have a guaranteed income. Be free from worries so you can put on weight in the right places."

"What," Mason asked, "are the right places?"

"The places that meet the masculine eye," she said. Mason settled in his chair, glanced through the contract, frowned, started reading it more carefully.

By the time the room service waiter arrived with the table and the breakfast order, Mason had completed a study of the contract.

Della Street waited until after the table had been set on the balcony, the waiter had left the room, and Mason had taken the first sip of his coffee.

"Well?" she asked.

Mason said, "That's the damnedest contract I've ever read."

"I thought you'd be interested in it."

"The strange thing," Mason said, "is that on its face the contract seems so completely reasonable; in fact, so utterly benevolent. The party of the first part agrees that Dianne may fear she will have trouble getting secretarial employment if she puts on weight, and recognizes the fact that as of the time the contract is signed she is gainfully employed as a secretary in a law office at a salary of five thousand, two hundred dollars a year.

"Since the party of the first part desires that she shall give up that employment and devote herself exclusively to her work as a model, it is guaranteed that she will receive an income of one hundred dollars a week, payable each Saturday morning.

"On the other hand, Dianne, as party of the second part, agrees to put on twelve pounds within a period of ten weeks, to resign her position immediately on the signing of the contract, and loaf on the beach, getting as much of a sun tan as possible.

"It is agreed that she will pose in bikini bathing suits as the party of the first part may desire, but she shall not be required to pose in the nude. And if she wishes, at the time of posing in a bikini bathing suit, she may have a woman companion present as her chaperon.

"Now," Mason went on, "comes the peculiar part of the contract. It is stated that the parties contemplate that Dianne's total income may greatly exceed the sum of fifty-two hundred dollars a year; that the fifty-two hundred dollars is a minimum guarantee made by the party of the first part; and Dianne is entitled to have that and to keep that income without dividing it. If, however, her income exceeds that amount, she is to share it fifty-fifty with the party of the first part. And, since the party of the first part is taking a calculated risk, it is agreed that Dianne's gross income shall be computed for the purposes of the division as any money she may receive from any source whatever during the life of the contract.

"The contract is to exist for two years, and the party of the first part has the right of renewing it for an additional two years. And, at the expiration of that time, a further right of renewal for another two years.