Warren nodded.

  “Now then,” Mason said, “specifically what do you want me to do? Suppose we locate this fingerprint. What then? Do you simply want me to advise you of the identity of the person and withdraw, or–”

  “No,” Warren said, “I’ve been thinking things over. You’ll have to be on your own for a while. There are certain reasons why it’s going to be rather difficult for me to be in professional communication with you, Mason.”

  “There’s always the telephone,” Mason said.

  “Unfortunately I have very few moments when people are not with me,” Warren said. “I have a secretary in charge of appointments. I have a rather elaborate staff.”

  “Perhaps I can telephone you,” Mason said, “and we could handle a conversation in such a way that the comments made at your end of the line would seem to relate to some business matter. In that way I could give you the information–”

  “No, no. My calls have to pass through a switchboard in the office and … I’m going to turn you loose on your own, Mason.”

  “Just what do you want?” Mason asked.

  “That fingerprint that you have,” Warren said. “I want you to find out who made that fingerprint. When you find out who made it, I want you to protect my wife against that person. You understand, Mason? No matter who that person may be, no matter how much it may cost in the way of a legitimate fee, I want you to protect my wife from that person.”

  “In other words,” Mason said, “you’re reasonably certain that after tonight I’ll know who made that fingerprint. You think the person will be at the buffet dinner.”

  “I think the person will be at the buffet dinner.”

  “And you want me to protect your wife against that person.”

  “Yes.”

  “What measures do I take?”

  “Any measures that may be necessary.”

  “How much expense do I incur?”

  “Any expense within reason. Any expense that you can justify as a reasonable expense will be unhesitatingly paid by me.”

  “Up to what limit?” Mason asked curiously.

  “There is no limit.”

  “Suppose it should run into several thousands of dollars?”

  “I said there is no limit.”

  “You have a feeling that your wife is in danger?”

  “I think,” Warren said, “that my wife is either in the clutches of a blackmailer or is about to fall into the clutches of a blackmailer.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows. “Legitimate law-abiding citizens are seldom subject to blackmail unless, of course, there is something in the past of such a person that would leave him vulnerable, and I take it that in the case of your wife …”

  “Take what?” Warren asked irascibly, as Mason’s voice trailed into silence.

  “That there would hardly be such a past.”

  “Why not?” Warren rasped.

  “Surely,” Mason said, “with your social and business position, any woman whom you have married would hardly–”

  “Stop it!” Warren snapped.

  “Stop what?” Mason asked.

  “Stop fishing for information under the guise of paying me a lot of compliments and putting me in a position where I’ll have to make a statement.

  “I’m going to make one statement, Mason. It’s the only statement you’ll get out of me. The fact that Lorna is my wife doesn’t mean a damned thing.”

  “How long have you been married?” Mason asked.

  “We’ve been married for ten years. It’s been a happy marriage, but she is ten years younger than I am. When I married her I was a successful businessman – not a wealthy businessman, but a reasonably successful businessman. I didn’t inquire into her past. I married her because I loved her.”

  “And because she loved you?” Mason asked.

  “I don’t know,” Warren said. “A man never does. I have sometimes thought she married me because she found in me a refuge. I don’t know. And because I have never asked her, I don’t intend to ask you. I don’t want you to tell me anything you might find out about her past or her frame of mind, present or past.

  “I am retaining you for just one thing. Protect my wife from the person who made that fingerprint. Don’t tell me a damned thing about what you find out. Just go ahead and protect her and from time to time send me the bill for what you feel your services are worth.”

  “That’s a rather difficult assignment,” Mason said.

  “I think you specialize in difficult assignments. I’ve looked you up one side and down the other.”

  The unlisted telephone rang. Della Street answered, said, “Thank you, Paul,” and hung up.

  She caught Mason’s eye and nodded.

  Mason said, “The catering truck is available for tonight.”

  “Good!” Warren exclaimed.

  Mason regarded the man thoughtfully.

  “What makes you think your wife is in danger?” he asked.

  “My wife,” Warren said, “is being blackmailed.”

  “How do you know?”

  “First the tip-off came from my banker. She has been making withdrawals for a period of more than ninety days. Those withdrawals are large and are in the form of cash.”

  “And you think she has been paying those over to some blackmailer?”

  “No, I know she hasn’t.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows.

  “To date she has drawn out something like forty-seven thousand dollars,” Warren said, “and as late as last night she had that forty-seven thousand dollars intact in a locked suitcase in her bedroom.”

  “The entire sum?” Mason asked.

  “The entire sum.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I made it my business to find out.”

  “Then,” Mason said, “there is another possibility, which is–”

  “I know, I know,” Warren interrupted. “Which is that my wife is in love with someone else and is intending to run away and leave me.

  “Lorna wouldn’t do that. Lorna consented to be my wife ten years ago. At the time there was something bothering her. I know that much. She came from New York, she has never talked about her past, she has never introduced me to a single friend who knew her before she was married. Every friend she has in the world, apparently, is someone with whom she became acquainted after our marriage.”

  “In other words, her past is something of a mystery?”

  “Her past is a closed book,” Warren said. “She’d probably tell me if I asked her. I wouldn’t ask her. What you were talking about is whether she was planning to run away and leave me. I’m simply telling you Lorna wouldn’t do that. She made her bargain. She’d stay with it if it killed her.

  “If something happened and she became utterly miserable in our marriage, she might take an overdose of sleeping pills. I don’t know. I want to see that that doesn’t happen.”

  “If what you suspect is true,” Mason said, “I may have to invent some excuse to see a good deal of your wife.”

  “Then go ahead and invent the excuse.”

  “And what you want me to do is to–”

  Warren interrupted. “Protect my wife from the person who made that fingerprint.”

  “At all costs?” Mason asked.

  “At all costs, at any cost. There is no limit, but I want her protected from the person who made that fingerprint. I will expect your detective’s catering service to be prepared to serve an excellent champagne buffet dinner tonight, and I will expect you to be there with some eminently suitable woman who can–”

  Mason nodded toward Della Street. “I would have Miss Street with me,” he said.

  “That’s fine,” Warren said. “Now, the only person who might even faintly suspect there may be a business relationship will be Judson Olney. He will assume the responsibility for your secretary being there, and she will invite you to accompany her. Since you are rather well known, it might occur to him that there is some logical reason for you to be there.

  “Olney will adopt the position of having been a friend of long standing of your secretary, here; and since he is a bachelor this will cause no complications.

  “He is, I may add,” Warren said, “a very eligible bachelor.”

  “And Olney will know what he has to do?”

  “Olney will only know that he has to invite your secretary, Miss …”

  “Della Street,” Mason said.

  Warren took a notebook from his pocket, made a note of the name.

  “All that Judson will know is that he is to invite Miss Della Street to the dinner as an old friend, and introduce her as such. You will be there simply as Miss Street’s escort.”

  “Do you think that will fool anyone?” Mason asked.

  “I don’t give a damn whether it does or not,” Warren said. “I can’t think of anything else on short notice that will work any better. In my business I try to plan my activities in the best way available at the moment and then quit worrying about what may happen. After I have decided on a course of action I go ahead – full speed. I don’t waste time looking back over my shoulder.

  “Now, since this is the last time I will see you before you arrive at my home, we have to be sure that we don’t get our wires crossed. Do you have any questions?”

  “No,” Mason said.

  Warren looked at his watch. “I have already used much more than my allotted time. I am going to have to make excuses to account for the delay in my appointment schedule.”

  He pushed back his chair, got to his feet, started for the door, turned, faced Mason, and said, “No matter who that person may be, you are to protect my wife from the person who made the fingerprint on that card.”

  After the door had clicked shut, Della Street looked at Perry Mason. “Intrigue,” she said. “I love it.”

  Mason was frowningly studying the fingerprint on the card.

  “Think Drake can match it?” she asked.

  “If the person who made it is there tonight,” Mason said thoughtfully, “Drake should be able to make a match. Unless, of course, the person becomes suspicious and manages to avoid leaving prints.”

  “Suspicious?” she asked.

  “Because I am there,” Mason said.

  Della said, “Well, if I am to be escorted to a champagne dinner with the four hundred tonight, I should spend what time I can get during the noon hour at the beauty shop.”

  “Take what time you need,” Mason said. “This is business, you know.”

  Della Street picked up the phone, asked for an appointment at the hairdresser’s, said, “Just a moment, please,” and turned to Perry Mason. “They can take me now if I can come right away.”

  “Go ahead,” Mason said. “And charge the bill as part of the expense on the case. This is an official assignment, you know.”

  She said into the phone, “Okay, I’ll be right down,” hung up and turned to Mason. “Somehow I feel rather … well …”

  Mason laughed. “You never feel self-conscious when you work until midnight, Della, or when you are called on to work over a weekend. Go ahead and get the works.”

  Chapter Two

  It was nearly two o’clock when a radiant Della Street returned from the beauty shop.

  “How do I look?” she asked, standing in front of Perry Mason, and turning slowly.

  “Like a million,” Mason said.

  “I don’t want you to be ashamed of me at that buffet dinner.”

  “Ashamed!” Mason exclaimed. “You’ll be the queen of the–”

  The telephone bell rang three short, sharp rings which was the switchboard operator’s signal that in the outer office there was something urgent and demanding immediate attention. A moment later Gertie, the switchboard operator and receptionist, appeared in the door of the private office.

  She carefully closed the door behind her and said, “There’s a Mr Judson Olney out there who wants to see Miss Della Street on a personal matter of some urgency. He wants to see her alone.”

  “My boyfriend,” Della said.

  “Your what?” Gertie asked, her eyes growing large and round.

  “Only temporarily,” Della Street said, smiling. “I’ll go out and greet him.”

  Gertie backed out of the office.

  “I want to look him over,” Mason said to Della Street, “provided you can arrange it.”

  “I’ll arrange it,” she told him.

  Della vanished through the door to the outer office.

  A few moments later Mason’s phone rang and when the lawyer picked up the receiver he heard Della on the other end of the line.

  “Where are you, Della?” he asked.

  “In the outer office,” she said. “I’m talking where he can’t hear me.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “There’s something rather strange here. He didn’t want to see anyone except me, but after we’d talk a little while he asked who my escort was going to be and I told him it would be you. That seemed to bother him for a minute and then he said, well, perhaps he was getting a little out of line. I can see that now he knows I’m going with you he wants to meet you, but he’s all worked up about something, under some sort of terrific tension.”

  “See if he wants to come in and meet me,” Mason said. “If he does, bring him in.”

  “I’m satisfied he does. You may expect us in about two minutes,” Della said.

  However, it was less than a minute after Mason had terminated the telephone conversation that the door opened and Della said, “Mr Mason, this is Judson Olney. He’s manager of the Warren Enterprises.”

  Olney, a strapping young man with a ready smile and an air of breezy informality about him, came forward to acknowledge the introduction and take Mason’s hand.

  “Hello, Mr Mason,” he said. “I’m sorry I bothered you but Della here told me you were going to be her escort tonight and I wanted to drop in and say hello.

  “Della and I are old friends from high school days. I was a senior when she was a freshman but I had my eye on her even then … We drifted apart and I lost track of her.”

  “How did you happen to find her?” Mason asked, his face without expression.

  “Simplest way on earth,” Olney said. “I was walking down the street yesterday and she drove by. I recognized her. I saw her turn into a parking place nearby, so as I walked past I spoke to the attendant, told him that I’d like to know whether a Miss Della Street was a regular customer of his, and he told me she kept a parking space by the month, that he understood she worked in the office of Perry Mason, the attorney.

  “So,” Olney said, smiling, “that’s the story. I could have made quite a mystery out of it and built myself up as a super detective, but somehow I always like to tell the truth.”

  His steady blue eyes met Mason’s with every semblance of frankness.

  “And that’s the truth?” Mason asked.

  Della Street caught Judson Olney’s eye and shook her head.

  Olney grinned sheepishly. “All right,” he said, “that’s a story I made up. Actually I was instructed by my employer, Horace Warren, to concoct a story which would account for a long friendship with Miss Street, and to invite her as my friend to a buffet dinner tonight. On the other hand, I wasn’t to have it appear that there had been anything more than an old friendship which had been dormant for some time and was now being resurrected. So I was therefore instructed to ask Miss Street to bring an escort. She tells me that you are going to take her.”

  Mason nodded.

  “All right,” Olney said, “I’m going to be telling that story about Della Street, the old school days and the parking lot and I wanted to rehearse it a little bit.”

  “Couldn’t you do a little better?” Mason asked.

  “No,” Olney said. “I had a better story but it would have been vulnerable to checking.”

  “You think someone will check it?” Mason asked.

  Olney said cautiously, “I don’t know. I want to be safe. I’m being purposely kept in the dark. I don’t know what it’s all about. I’m told what to do and I’m simply following instructions. I was told to concoct a story that would stand checking.”

  “That’s all you know?” Mason asked.

  “That’s all I know,” Olney said. “But I do want to say one thing on my own.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Whatever is in the wind,” Olney said, his face suddenly serious, his eyes hard, “had better be on the up-and-up as far as Lorna Warren is concerned.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows. “You have some particular interest in seeing that her rights are protected?”

  “Nothing like that,” Olney said. “Well, wait a minute, I have, too. Lorna Warren is one of the sweetest, nicest individuals I’ve ever met; calm, quiet, patient, considerate, and she treats us folks in the office just fine.

  “Now then, it suddenly occurs to me that there’s a reason for all this rigmarole I’m supposed to go through, and it may be that Horace Warren isn’t interested in having Miss Street there but is interested in having you there. I hope you don’t mind if I put the cards right on the table, sir.”

  “Go right ahead,” Mason invited.

  “Horace Warren is my employer. I am loyal to him in a business way. His wife, Lorna, is something very, very special. Don’t get me wrong, Mr Mason. My feelings toward her are simply the feelings of every man and woman in the office. We like Horace Warren. We absolutely idolize Lorna. I would certainly resent being called upon to assist in making it possible for an attorney to be present at that buffet dinner tonight if the ultimate objective of the attorney was to do something which would inconvenience Lorna Warren in any way.”

  “You are now waiting for a statement from me?” Mason asked.

  “I am waiting for a statement from you.”

  Mason said, “I have no official connection with either Horace Warren or Lorna Warren which would cause me to do anything against the best interests of Lorna Warren.”

  Olney’s face lit up. “Well, now that’s something,” he said. “That makes me feel a lot better … Well, there’s no use keeping up the pretence with you folks. You’ll be there, I understand, at seven. Do I rate the privilege of giving you a platonic kiss on the cheek, Miss Street? After all, you were the proud, unattainable beauty when we were both in high school.”