“Go ahead,” Shelby said. “When you come right down to it, I am no gilded lily myself.”

  “That makes it perfectly fine,” Mason said. “Just so we don’t misunderstand each other.”

  “We don’t. Only get this straight, Mr. Mason. The minute you leave this office, I’m going to mail a notice to the escrow company.”

  “All right,” Mason said. “And the minute you do that, I’m going to sue to set aside the lease on the ground of fraud. I’m going to sue you for slander of title. I’m going to look into the question of whether the lease was signed on the strength of false representations.”

  “You go right ahead,” Shelby said. “And by the time you get done with all that stuff, Benton will have bought and sold half a dozen other country homes. Your client will be left with an island on her hands, and the island will be subject to my oil lease.”

  Mason hesitated. “You think this offer of Benton’s is more than she’d get from anyone else?”

  “Considerably more.”

  “How much more?”

  Shelby said, “The deal is for thirty thousand dollars. I consider that fifteen thousand dollars is a big price for the island. However, I’m willing to sell my interest in it for the ten thousand and that will still leave your client five thousand more than she could get from anyone else.”

  “In other words, you think the island is worth only about fifteen thousand dollars?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you want ten thousand dollars in order to step back and let this sale go through?”

  “Put it that way if you want to.”

  “But the figure is right? The amount is ten thousand?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s bedrock?”

  “Yes.”

  Mason said, “All right. Remember that you yourself have adopted the position that the deal with Benton is a good many thousand dollars more than the island is really worth.”

  “What’s the object in remembering that?”

  Mason grinned. “It affects the measure of damages in case I go after you for slander of title. You interfere with this sale and I’ll stick you for damages.”

  “You couldn’t get ’em if you did.”

  “I’ll remember that, too.”

  Shelby said, “I was hoping we could have settled this thing amicably, Mr. Mason.”

  “Naturally, at that price.”

  “I might come down a little.”

  “How much?”

  “Not over one thousand—or two thousand at the most.”

  “That’s your final figure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good night,” Mason said, and held the door open for Della Street.

  Shelby hurriedly got up, walked around his desk. “After all, Mr. Mason, there’s a great deal of money involved and …”

  Mason stepped out into the corridor, pulled the door shut behind him, cutting off Shelby in midsentence.

  They marched across to the elevators and pushed the button marked DOWN.

  “Don’t you think he’d have made more concessions?” Della Street asked curiously in a low voice.

  “Sure.”

  “Then why not wait?”

  “Because he’d have only come down to five thousand. The way things are now, he’ll get in a panic and start letting his hair down. There’s lots of time. Let him feel we’re tough and not too eager and he’ll get down to brass tacks.”

  “You were pretty rough with him.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Because you think he’s a chiseler?”

  “Right.”

  “And that witness?”

  Mason laughed, “Quote witness unquote. She’s got her finger in the middle of the pie.”

  “You think she … Yes, I guess so. She did seem pretty—possessive, just her manner.”

  Mason said, “Remember, she’s in the real estate business. Remember that Shelby has found out all about this deal, all about the escrow, all about the fact that the escrow is about ready to be closed, and knows the amount of the purchase price. Put one two together with the other two and tell me what the total is.”

  Della Street smiled at him. “Four.”

  “Four,” Mason said, “is right.”

  The elevator came gliding up the shaft, stopped at the floor, the door slid back. A man got out, started across toward the door of Shelby’s office, then abruptly whirled to regard Mason with surprise.

  “Well, well,” Mason said. “Sergeant Dorset of Homicide. What brings you here, Sergeant? Looking for a body?”

  Dorset abruptly wheeled, walked back to the elevators, said to the operator, “Go on down. You can pick him up in a minute or two. Mason, I want to talk to you.”

  Mason smiled affably. “Go right ahead. I just had a very interesting visit with the district attorney this afternoon. Anything you can add will be in the nature of an anticlimax.”

  Dorset paid no attention to Mason’s statement. “Who’re you calling on up here?” he asked.

  Mason smiled, and said nothing.

  “All right, all right,” Dorset said. “Go ahead. Be smart if you want to, but I was just wondering.”

  “I gathered you were.”

  Dorset jerked his thumb toward Shelby’s office. “Know anything about that poison angle?”

  Mason’s foot pressed against Della’s shoe. He said, “What do you suppose I’m up here for?”

  “That’s what bothers me,” Dorset said. “I’ll tell you one thing, Mason. If you’re representing the person that poisoned him and are trying to get the thing all hushed up, you’re out on a limb, because the doctor saved the stomach contents and had them analyzed. There was enough arsenic to have killed a horse. That’s why I’m here. Now why are you here?”

  Mason said, “Let’s say that any resemblance between the reason I’m here and the reason you’re here is purely coincidental.”

  Dorset frowned. “All right. Be smart. Remember, I’ve warned you. Good evening.”

  “Good-by,” Mason said, and jabbed the elevator button once more as Sergeant Dorset pounded his aggressive way toward Scott Shelby’s office.

  “Do you gather that Mr. Scott Shelby has been on the receiving end of an attempted murder?” Della asked.

  Mason was frowning as the red elevator light came on. “I’m darned if I know,” he said, and then as he entered the elevator muttered almost musingly to himself, “Poison, huh? Now isn’t that something?”

  Chapter 7

  Promptly at eight-forty the next morning Mason entered his office, met the surprised eyes of Della Street, said, “I know I’m early, but I want to talk with that Mrs. Keller when she comes in. I’m going to see if I can’t find some grounds for going after that crook.”

  Della Street said, “I haven’t even got your desk all dusted yet.”

  “That’s all right. I’m going out to the law library and prowl around a bit. I’m getting as bad as Jackson. Looking for precedents. I wonder if those women left the oil lease last night?”

  “I haven’t looked in the outer office. I just got here myself.”

  “Take a look,” Mason said.

  Della Street went to the outer office and returned carrying an envelope. “They left it all right.”

  Mason opened the envelope, took out the lease, walked over to his desk, pushed back the swivel chair, sat down, and tilted back to put his feet up on the desk, all without taking his eyes from the printed contract.

  “What time does Jackson come in, Della?” he asked.

  “Right on the dot at nine o’clock. You can set your watch by it. I presume he catches a certain car, and has established a precedent which he can’t break. Sometimes he’ll stay at the office until ten or eleven o’clock at night, but he always comes to work at that same time every morning.”

  Mason said, “See if Gertie is in. I want to be certain that I see Mrs. Keller as soon as she comes to the office.”

  Della Street picked up the telephone. She waited a moment then said, “Oh, hello, Gertie. I was just wondering if you were here. Mr. Mason is in the office and he’s going to see Mrs. Keller when she comes in. You might tell Jackson and … What’s that? … Just a minute.”

  Della Street turned to Mason, said, “Gertie didn’t know you were in. There was a man in the office to see you. Gertie told him that you didn’t ever get in before nine-thirty and he says he’s coming back.”

  “What’s his name?” Mason asked.

  “Just a minute, I’ll ask her.”

  “What’s his name, Gertie?”

  Della Street turned to Perry Mason, said, “It was Parker Benton.”

  “He’s in the office now?”

  “He just left. He started for the elevator.”

  “Catch him,” Mason ordered.

  Della Street dropped the telephone receiver into its cradle, dashed across the office, jerked open the door, and sprinted down the corridor.

  The door from the outer office opened. The receptionist and switchboard operator said contritely, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Mason. I didn’t know you were in the office. I didn’t even know Miss Street was here. I …”

  “That’s all right, Gertie,” Mason said. “It just happens I’m anxious to see this man, that’s all.”

  A moment later Della Street tapped on the door of Mason’s office. Mason opened the door and looked over Della’s shoulder to meet steely-gray eyes which probed out from under bushy eyebrows.

  Mason said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Benton. My receptionist didn’t know I was in. I’m a little early this morning. Won’t you come in?”

  Benton shook hands.

  He was a muscular, broad shouldered, well fed individual somewhere around fifty-five. Dark hair flecked with gray was combed straight back from his forehead. He wore no hat and the deep even tan of his face indicated that he spent much of his time out of doors. He was, perhaps, some twenty pounds overweight but he carried it well and the grip of his hand was muscular and cordial.

  “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I heard that a Mr. Jackson in your office was handling the matter I’m interested in. But it’s quite important to me, and I wanted to talk to you personally about it.”

  “Sit down,” Mason invited. “Who told you about Mr. Jackson?”

  “Jane Keller.”

  “You’ve seen her?”

  “Talked with her over the telephone.”

  “Would you mind telling me just what happened?”

  “Well, I think you know the general background.”

  Mason said with a smile, “I prefer that you tell me.”

  Benton laughed. “There’s no need beating around the bush, Mr. Mason, and no need to be cautious. The cat’s out of the bag.”

  Mason offered his visitor a cigarette. “But under the circumstances it will help if you describe the cat so we’ll be perfectly certain we’re talking about the same animal.”

  Benton laughed outright, said, “Last night a man by the name of Shelby got in touch with me, said that he understood I was buying an island from Jane Keller, that if I wanted to get a good title to the land I’d have to make some arrangements with him because he had an oil lease and was intending to start drilling. He said he took it for granted that I wouldn’t care to buy an island for residential purposes and then have him put some oil derricks in my front yard.”

  “What,” Mason asked, “did you tell him?”

  “Well, I asked him a few questions in order to get the picture.”

  “And then?” Mason asked.

  Benton laughed and said, “And then I told him to go to hell. I hate being blackmailed.”

  Mason nodded.

  “Now then, what can you tell me about the legal angles?”

  “I don’t think he has a leg to stand on legally. His contract lapsed five months ago. I think there’s been an abandonment of the premises. I think there’s been a termination of the lease by a mutual implied consent. I don’t think the particular lease in question permits him to cure his default in the payment of rent, even if there hasn’t been any abandonment or mutual termination by implied consent.”

  “And suppose we take the thing to court?”

  “We can lick him.”

  “How long?”

  Mason ran his hand over his wavy hair.

  “Go ahead,” Benton said. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Mason. I have my own lawyers. I can find out about these things. I’m simply trying to save time.”

  “Well, of course,” Mason said, “it depends somewhat on the amount of opposition we meet, whether Shelby is simply running a naked bluff or whether he’s willing to spend some money to try and hold us up.”

  “He’ll spend some money to try and hold us up.”

  “You know him?”

  “I didn’t, but I do.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows.

  Benton said, “I keep a firm of confidential investigators under retainer. Whenever a thing of this sort crops up, I try to find out something of the nature of the man I’m dealing with.”

  Mason’s silence was an invitation to proceed.

  After a moment Parker Benton said, “I don’t know why not. After all, we’re jointly interested in this thing. I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Mason, that I’m rather anxious to get that property if it can be worked out. But I certainly don’t want to have someone punching oil wells in my front yard or turning my swimming pool into an oil sump.”

  Mason nodded.

  “Scott Shelby,” Benton said, “is a promoter. He’s shrewd and he’s probably crooked. He’s something of a playboy, been married twice before. He now has a third wife considerably younger than he is. No one knows anything about his financial status because he keeps juggling his bank accounts around and is reputed to carry most of his money in the form of cash in a money belt. His credit is nil.”

  “Beating the income tax?” Mason asked.

  Benton made a little gesture with his hands. “You draw your conclusions, I draw mine. In that way we don’t run any risk of being sued for defamation of character.”

  Mason looked across at the other man. “Why did you come here?”

  “I wanted to find out about the legal aspects of the situation.”

  “You have your own lawyers.”

  “I thought you might be more familiar with the situation.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  Abruptly Parker Benton laughed and said, “All right, Mason, you win.”

  “Go ahead,” Mason invited.

  “All right,” Benton said. “I’ll put my cards on the table. That property is worth probably from fifteen to twenty thousand dollars. I’m paying thirty dollars for it. And I’m anxious to get it.”

  “How anxious?” Mason asked.

  “Very anxious.”

  “You mean you’d pay Shelby some blackmail in order to buy him out?”

  Benton said, “As far as the money is concerned, it doesn’t make much difference. The principle of the thing does. I don’t like to be held up. I definitely don’t want to get the reputation of being an easy mark. I do want that property. If it costs money to get rid of Shelby, you’ll pay the money. Get me?”

  Mason nodded.

  “Now then,” Benton went on, “Shelby is running a bluff. He’ll back it up if we start to call him. He’ll have to. But he doesn’t want a lawsuit any more than anyone else.”

  “You have something in mind?” Mason asked.

  Benton looked at Mason, studying the lawyer, “You didn’t have someone call me up early this morning?”

  Mason silently shook his head.

  “Very early this morning,” Benton went on, “my telephone rang. A woman who seemed to know a great deal about the matter said that she was going to give me a friendly tip, that if I’d get Scott Shelby and his wife to accompany me sometime tonight on a cruise to the island aboard my yacht, I could get a settlement of the case. This person, a woman whose voice sounded very attractive, by the way, said Shelby really wanted to settle, but that Shelby was hotheaded. His wife, Marion, was the real balance wheel, a very sensible, charming woman.”

  Benton stopped talking, waiting for Mason to say something, but the lawyer merely kept quiet.

  “What do you think of it?” Benton asked at length.

  “You don’t know who called you?”

  “No.”

  “She was particular to suggest the conference be aboard your yacht?”

  “Yes.”

  “The destination the island?”

  “Yes.”

  “For all you know then,” Mason said, smiling, “the voice was that of Mrs. Shelby, herself. She was quite probably coached by her husband to say what she did.”

  Benton nodded. “I think that’s the real explanation.”

  “Well?” Mason asked.

  Benton said smiling, “I’m going to ring up Shelby. I’m going to invite him and his wife to come out to my yacht for a little cruise. I want you to come also. I’ll have Mrs. Keller there, all the interested parties. We’ll have a get-together. If Shelby makes a reasonable price, we’ll arrange a pool, pay him off and take a quitclaim.”

  Mason said, “If you’d like a suggestion, I’ll give you one.”

  “What?”

  “The thing that will bother Shelby the most is that you might tell the title company to issue a certificate subject to that oil lease. Then the title company takes no responsibility for the oil lease and you go ahead and take the property. Then you tell Shelby to start suing you.”

  “I’d still have a lawsuit on my hands,” Benton said.

  Mason said, “I’m telling you that that would bother Shelby the most.”

  Benton nodded. “I get your point, thanks.”

  Mason said, “Engaging in litigation with you would be rather an expensive pastime.”

  “Quite expensive,” Benton said.

  Mason said, “In one way we’d be suing Shelby to quit title so we could close the deal. He’d spar for time and run us crazy. This way I’ve suggested, you’d have the property and he’d have to sue you. It isn’t a position he’d like to be in.”

  Benton pursed his lips, then asked abruptly, “You’re not married, Mr. Mason?”

  “No.”

  “I’m very anxious to have you come along on that yachting trip this afternoon. We leave here about four o’clock. There’s lots of room. Is there someone you’d like to bring along?”