The Case of the Singing Skirt (5 page)

"I'm sorry for Helly. I've given him some sisterly advice. I'd like to talk to her. I-"

The phone rang.

Della Street answered it, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and said, "It's for you personally, Mr. Mason."

Mason raised his eyebrows.

"Want to take it in the law library?"

"I'll take it here," Mason said. "Who is it?"

"An attorney," Della Street said.

Mason, suddenly warned by something in her manner, hesitated. "It is…?"

She nodded.

Mason said, "Oh, well, I may as well take it here anyway. Let's find out what it is he wants."

Mason picked up his own phone, and Della Street threw a switch which connected both phones.

"Hello," Mason said.

"Perry Mason?" a man's voice asked.

"That's right."

"I'm Darwin C. Gowrie, Mr. Mason."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Gowrie."

"I'm calling you on behalf of Mrs. Helman Ellis-that is, it's in relation to a matter you discussed with Mrs. Ellis yesterday."

"What can I do for you?" Mason asked.

"That's a most interesting case you gave Mrs. Ellis yesterday," Gowrie said. "I feel rather guilty going before a women's club and stealing your thunder. Wouldn't you like to appear with me and take the credit for having ferreted out this decision?"

"Not me," Mason said. "If that's all that's worrying you, you have a complete clearance and a free hand. Go ahead and tell them about it. You don't need to mention my name."

"I've looked up the case," Gowrie said. "It's certainly a very interesting and yet a very logical application of the law. But do you realize what it's going to mean if this case is publicized? It's going to put the gamblers out of business. They just can't afford to buck a situation like that."

Mason said, "I spread it on a little thick for the benefit of George Anclitas. Actually, it's an appellate decision. The State Supreme Court or the United States Supreme Court may not go that far."

"I understand," Gowrie said, "but right now that decision is on the law books in California. The gamblers are going to have quite a time over that. What do you suppose would be the effect if some married man went to Las Vegas and got in a really big game where he lost perhaps eighty or a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand dollars of community property?"

Mason said rather impatiently, "I don't know. You can cross that bridge when you come to it. As a matter of fact, Gowrie, I have a file of a lot of unusual decisions, feeling that the time may come when I can use them. But I don't go out of my way looking for an opportunity to use them.

"Take, for instance, the case of a person shooting another person, inflicting a mortal wound, but before the wound actually proves fatal, while the victim is lying there mortally wounded, another person comes along and fires a second shot into the victim, and the victim dies as the result of that second shot-who's guilty of the murder?"

Gowrie thought for a minute, then said, "Both of them."

"That's wrong," Mason said. "There are quite a few well-reasoned decisions that hold to the contrary. There's a case in Arkansas-the case of Dempsey versus State, where one man stabbed a victim in the heart. Another man inflicted a fatal blow on the head. The last one was held to be guilty of the homicide."

"What!" Gowrie exclaimed incredulously.

"That's right," Mason said. "In fact, in California we have an early case holding somewhat the same thing."

Gowrie became very much excited. "Look, Mason, I don't want to poach on your private preserves-but now that you've given me the clue, I could pick up the citations at the law library. Would you mind giving me the citations, if you have them?"

Mason nodded to Della Street, said, "Just a minute, Gowrie."

Della Street opened a small card file, ran through the cards, picked out a card, handed it to Mason.

"Here are the citations," Mason said, "that I have on my card. Dempsey versus State, 83 Ark. 8i; 102 S. W. 704; People versus Ah Fat, 48 Cal. 6i; Duque versus State, 56 Tex. Cr. 214; 119 S. W. 687."

"Well, I'll be damned," Gowrie said. "You mean if I should shoot you and just as you were dying somebody else fired a shot that was instantly fatal, I wouldn't be guilty of any crime?"

"I didn't go so far as to say that," Mason said. "What I said was that you couldn't be convicted of murder- unless, of course, two people were acting together in accordance with a common plan, as the result of a conspiracy, or in the commission of a felony. In that event you would both be guilty of first-degree murder. But I think the law is quite plain that where a person has received a fatal injury but is not yet dead, and another entirely independent agency inflicts a wound which is immediately fatal, the second person is the one who is guilty of the homicide. However, I just mentioned that as an illustration. I have a whole drawer full of unusual decisions, and this gambling decision just happened to be one of them. You go ahead and use it any way you want to.

"Now, while we're on the subject, Gowrie, your client, Nadine Ellis, feels that Ellen Robb has been breaking up her home and-"

"Not at all, not at all," Gowrie interrupted. "I'm afraid Miss Robb had the wrong impression. I will admit that I was questioning her, trying to find out something about Helman Ellis and I'll also be perfectly frank to state that I don't know just what Mrs. Ellis is going to do about it. There's no question but that Ellis has been hanging around The Big Barn because he was interested in Ellen Robb. That's why they kept the girl there. They have her appear in clothes which show off her figure, and she has a figure that's worth showing off.

"Helman Ellis became completely fascinated. I'm not blaming the girl. I don't think she was guilty of any wrongdoing at all, but naturally, as Mrs. Ellis' attorney, I would like to know a little of what was going on. You might tell your client, Mr. Mason, that I think she was a little less than frank with me. I don't blame her under the circumstances, but if she'd co-operate with Mrs. Ellis, I think she'd find Mrs. Ellis very broad-minded and very understanding."

"Actually," Mason said, "my client was thinking of doing just that. She was thinking of going direct to Mrs. Ellis and having a heart-to-heart chat with her."

"I think that would be a wonderful thing," Gowrie said.

"No objections as Mrs. Ellis' attorney?"

"None whatever."

"All right," Mason said. "You go ahead and put on your talk to the women's club. I think I'll tell my client to go talk with Mrs. Ellis."

Mason hung up the phone, turned to Ellen Robb. "Look, Miss Robb," he said, "why don't you just go see Mrs. Ellis and tell her something of what you've told me? Don't talk too much about her husband as an individual, but talk about the problem of marriage in general. I take it you've given the subject quite a bit of thought."

"I have," she said. "I've given it thought during a lot of sleepless nights, and, believe me, that's when you really cover all the angles of a problem. Right now Mrs. Ellis may feel rather vindictive, but, believe me, it's a lot better to make sacrifices and save a marriage than to go rushing into something where you win a little alimony and then have years of loneliness to think things over."

"All right," Mason said, "you go see Mrs. Ellis and I'll get to work."

She seemed rather hurt at his brusque manner of dismissal. "I have money now, Mr. Mason. I want to pay you for your services."

Mason hesitated a moment.

"Fifty dollars," Della Street said.

Ellen Robb opened her purse, took out two twenties and a ten.

"Right this way," Della Street said. "If you'll step out to my office I'll give you a receipt."

"I take it you can spare that money," Mason said. "You made some sort of a settlement?"

"I received a present, Mr. Mason. It wasn't a settlement. It was for the purpose of paying my expenses in the matter and-"

"Did you sign anything?" Mason asked.

She shook her head. "George said my word is good enough for him."

Mason nodded.

"Right this way," Della Street interposed. "I'll get your receipt."

When Della had returned to the office, Mason picked up the file of urgent correspondence. "Don't you think fifty dollars was a little steep?" he asked.

"It should have been two hundred and fifty," Della Street said. "Do you realize you made a trip out of the office, killed half a day, and then she had the temerity to come back and see you? You mark my words, Chief, that girl is one who could become a pest. She's got her eye on you."

"On me?" Mason asked.

"On you! You don't react the way she's accustomed to having men react. You noticed the way she bent over when she leaned over to put her hands on the arm of your chair?"

"I noticed," Mason admitted.

"You were supposed to," Della Street said. "That's why she did it. I'll tell you something else. She's a pretty good shorthand stenographer. While you were talking with Gowrie over the telephone, she was taking notes."

"What!" Mason exclaimed incredulously.

"That's right."

"You're sure it was shorthand?" Mason asked. "It was shorthand," Della Street said. "I couldn't see the point of her pencil but I could see the way her shoulder moved, and I would say she was a very clever shorthand stenographer, and she was taking down your entire conversation with Gowrie."

"Well, isn't that interesting," Mason said, his eyes narrowing. "And do you suppose that Mr. Gowrie called quite by accident, that the fact he made his call while Ellen Robb was in the office was pure coincidence?"

"Not pure coincidence," Della Street said flatly.

CHAPTER FIVE

Perry Mason latchkeyed the door of his private office to find Paul Drake, head of the Drake Detective Agency, visiting with Della Street over a cup of coffee from the office percolator.

"Hi, Perry," Drake said. "Della was telling me about your Rowena case."

"Quite a case," Mason said.

"Well, I'll be on my way and let you get to work. I just dropped in to make a report on that Finsley case. I gave it to Della. There's nothing you need to take any action on at the moment."

"Don't run away, Paul," Mason said. "We haven't had a visit for quite a while. I don't have anything pressing this morning."

"On the contrary," Della Street said firmly. "This is the morning you are going to dictate replies to the letters in that file of urgent mail. On your way, Paul."

"I've been ordered out," Paul Drake said, grinning.

He started for the door, paused midway and said to Perry Mason, "You're all cleaned up with that bunch down in Rowena?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's rather a mess down there," Drake said. "The joints actually control the town. It's a prosperous little community as far as outside money pouring in is concerned, but this fellow Anclitas you tangled with is quite a guy."

"How come?"

"I don't know too much about him," Drake said, "except that he's supposed to be bad medicine. He fights dirty. He has the city attorney and the chief of police in his pocket. I don't know whether you remember reading about it, but about a year ago there was a case in the papers."

"Involving him?"

"That's right. He filed charges against a girl who had been working there, claimed that she had been stealing money from the cash register and that she had stolen a gun. They found the gun in her possession, and she claimed the whole thing was a frame-up. There was an investigation. I guess the kid had been smoking marijuana. Quite a lot of those people connected with music go for that type of junk. The police found some marijuana in her apartment along with this stolen gun. Then George's friend, the chief of police down there, took the girl's fingerprints and from them dug up an FBI record which showed a prior conviction for marijuana."

"What happened?" Mason asked, interested.

"I think the girl went up, as I remember it, but she was making some wild accusations, claiming that George and his partner had framed her. Just keep an eye on those boys, Perry, and remember they've got the town all sewed up. If you have any trouble with George Anclitas, don't leave your car parked in front of a fireplug in Rowena or you'll be in jail for six months. And if they can get you where there are no witnesses, they'll charge you with resisting an officer and show bruises on your face to prove the charge."

"A nice cozy little setup," Mason said.

"It is for a fact," Drake told him. "Well, I'll be on my way, Perry. I'm keeping on the job on that Finsley case. I expect to hear something definite by tomorrow. You get back to your dictation."

"Thank you, Paul," Della Street said sweetly.

"I like to make him work," Drake said and left the office.

Perry Mason sighed, said, "One cup of coffee and one cigarette, Della."

"All right," she said, "only answer those two top letters while you're sipping the coffee and smoking the cigarette."

"Slave driver!" he charged.

Della Street adjusted her shorthand notebook on her knee. "I'm the slave," she said. "What do you want to tell that fellow?"

Della Street's phone rang while she was in the midst of taking Mason's dictation on the letter.

Della said, "Hello," listened, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and said to Perry Mason, "Your girl friend."

Mason raised his eyebrows.

"Ellen Robb," Della Street said.

"All right," Mason said, "we've wasted enough time with her, Della. She can't keep dropping in on us this way without an appointment. Tell Gertie to explain to her I'm busy, that I see clients only by appointment and… well, you'd better go out and tell her yourself. I don't want to be too obvious with the brush-off. I'm afraid this is getting to be one of those things."

"I'll send her on her way," Della Street said.

She pushed back her chair, walked quickly out of the office, and Mason, waiting to resume his dictation, studied the letter to which he had been replying. After some thirty seconds he began to frown impatiently. He put the letter down, took a cigarette from the silver case on the office desk and was just lighting it when Della Street returned to the office.

"Perhaps I've been uncharitable," she said.

"What is it?" Mason said.

"This time," Della Street said, "she has a story and a black eye."

"How come the black eye?"

"George."

Mason's face darkened. "I'm afraid," he said, "George needs something in the way of a lesson."

"I thought you might feel that way."

"How's she dressed?" Mason asked.

"Same outfit she had on yesterday," Della Street said, "and she'll probably lean over and put her hands on the arm of your chair. But… well, Chief, you have to feel sorry for her. She's been batted around, and, after all, that figure of hers is her showcase. And someone has planted a gun in her baggage."

"A gun?" Mason asked.

Della Street nodded.

"So," Mason said, smiling, "I take it you didn't send her on her way."

Della Street shook her head. "I told her that I thought perhaps you'd be able to see her, that you were very busy this morning and that you usually only saw people by appointment but that you might be able to see her. She's quite upset."

"Let's take a look," Mason said. "Bring her in. This gun business-I don't understand that. Tell her to come in. But I warn you, Della, I'm going to put her through a wringer this time."

"The poor kid is pretty much upset," Della said.

"You've changed your tune quite rapidly," Mason observed.

"I have," she admitted. "If there's anything that riles me it's the idea of these big burly men who demonstrate their manhood by hitting a good-looking girl in the eye. I hope you take this man George and put him through the hoops. After all, Miss Robb didn't sign anything, and there really wasn't any settlement within the legal meaning of the term. I think sticking George for about five thousand dollars would teach him a mighty good lesson."

"Let's get her in," Mason said. "I'm interested in the gun."

Della Street returned to the outer office and ushered Ellen Robb into Mason's presence.

Ellen Robb tried a lopsided grin. "Isn't it a beaut?" she said, fingering her swollen eye.

"All right," Mason said, "let's cut out the window dressing and get down to brass tacks. What happened?"

"I don't know. George was in a terrible mood last night. Every time I said anything he'd snap me up, and finally I couldn't take it any more and I told him I didn't have to. Then he really gave me a bawling out."

"What sort of a bawling out?" Mason asked.

"I think a lawyer would refer to it as loud, vulgar and obscene language."

"And then what?"

"Then he said something I just wouldn't take, and I slapped his face and.-. well, I have a shiner to show for it."

"No one interfered with your packing up?"

"No one interfered with my packing up. I got out and took a taxi to another motel. This morning when I was going through my things, I looked in my bag and… well, there was a gun in it."

"What sort of a gun?"

Ellen Robb opened her purse. "This," she said. "And I'm quite certain it's one of the guns he keeps there for protection. He has three or four of them by the various cash registers. This looks exactly like one of those guns. So, what do I do?"

Mason took the gun, motioned to Della Street to take her notebook. "A.38-caliber Smith & Wesson revolver with the number stamped in the metal, C 48809," he dictated.

He pushed the catch which released the cylinder, swung out the cylinder, said, "One empty cartridge case in the cylinder."

Mason put the gun down on his desk, then after a few seconds picked it up and dropped it in his right coat pocket.

"Let's assume someone put this revolver in your bag," Mason said. "When was it done-before your altercation with George Anclitas or afterwards?"

"Before. The minute he hit me I went right to my locker and started getting my things out, then I went to my room in the motel and packed my bag."

"Could he have gone to your room while you were getting your personal things out of your locker?"

"I suppose he could have, but somehow I don't think he did. I don't know. I have an idea… it's hard to tell, Mr. Mason, but I have a definite feeling that George had decided he was going to pick a fight with me over something and get rid of me. I think the whole thing had been carefully planned and was all cut and dried."

"Did you go and see Mrs. Ellis?"

"I tried to, but I never got to see her."

"What do you mean, you tried?"

"They have a yacht. I rang up the house and tried to talk with her. I found she and her husband were going on a cruise and she was supposed to be aboard the yacht, getting it ready for the cruise. I went down to the yacht, but she wasn't on board."

"Did you go out to the yacht?"

"Yes. I got a skiff, rowed out and went around the yacht calling her name. Then I went aboard. There wasn't anyone there. I thought it over and felt that since they were going cruising together they had probably patched things up and it would be best for me to say nothing."

"This was before your altercation with George?"

"Oh, yes, quite a bit before. The fight didn't start until nearly eleven o'clock, but I felt he was just looking for an excuse to pop me one from the minute I started to work."

"What time did you go on duty?"

"Eight o'clock."

Mason said, "Look here, Miss Robb, you have had stenographic training, haven't you?"

She seemed surprised. "Yes. How did you know?"

"You were taking down my conversation yesterday when I was talking on the phone."

She flushed, seemed embarrassed, then said, "Well, yes. I- You were talking about me and… well, you were talking with Mrs. Ellis' lawyer, and I just wanted notes on what you said."

Mason said, "You told me that you'd been married?"

She nodded.

"Want to talk about it?" Mason asked.

"No."

"And you've been around?"

"I've been around. I'm twenty-four years old and thought I was smart. I won a beauty contest. I thought I was going to be a Hollywood actress. I had a darned good husband and I guess I just took him too much for granted. When he started getting restless and playing around, I played the jealous wife to perfection. I nagged him and made his home life a hell. I drove him right into her arms. I told you that before."

"And then?" Mason asked.

"Then," she said, "I just didn't seem to care. I went out and tried to get away from everything and everybody I knew. I found that good stenographic jobs were rather difficult to get. I got a job as hat-check girl in The Green Swan. We.only got to keep a very small percentage of our tips there, and George had his eye on me. He found out I liked to sing and he offered me a good job with a salary and a chance to keep all my tips- Look, Mr. Mason, your time is valuable. If I tried to tell you about all of my career, you'd have to charge me more than I could afford to pay."

"Have you ever had any trouble with the law?"

"Never."

Mason turned to Della Street, said, "If you'll excuse us, Miss Robb, I have to make a rather confidential phone call at this time." Mason walked around his desk, opened the door to the law library and nodded to Della Street.

She joined him and Mason pulled the door shut.

"Well?" Della asked.

"I don't like it," Mason said. "I have a feeling that I've been suckered into a trap."