“He’s a widower.”

  “And how about him? Does he have the aggressive, masculine mannerisms?”

  “No, no, Mr. Mason. Mr. Franklin Gage is very much of a gentleman. He is courteous and considerate and—well, he’s an older, more mature man and his attitude is …”

  “Fatherly?” Mason ventured, as she hesitated.

  “Well, not exactly fatherly. More like an uncle or something of that sort.”

  “But he likes you?”

  “I think so.”

  “Very much?”

  “I think so. You see, I am pretty good at adjusting myself in a business way and I have tried to do a good job there at the export and import. And Mr. Gage, Mr. Franklin Gage, knows it.

  “In a quiet way he’s very nice to—to all of the girls who work in the office.”

  “How many other than you?”

  “Three.”

  “Names?”

  “Helen Albert, a stenographer; Joyce Baffin, a secretary-stenographer, but her duties are mostly of a secretarial nature—for Homer Gage; and Ellen Candler, who has charge of the mail and the files.”

  “Suppose a person wanted to embezzle money from the company?” Mason said. “Would it be easy?”

  “Very easy—too easy for those who had the combination to the cash safe. The company keeps large sums of money on hand. Occasionally it’s necessary to make deals on a completely cash basis with no voucher of any kind.”

  “Bribery?” Mason asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Smuggling?”

  “I don’t think it’s anything like that.”

  “And how do you keep your books under those circumstances?” Mason asked.

  “Well, there’s a certain amount of juggling with the cash so that the books are regular, but sometimes there are transactions which—well, it would be a little difficult to trace them.”

  “So your brother could very easily have embezzled five thousand dollars to go to Los Angeles and pay off a blackmailer?”

  “Mr. Mason, I tell you Edgar wouldn’t do that, and even if he had wanted to he couldn’t have done it. He doesn’t have the combination to the cash safe.”

  “Who does have the combination?”

  “Franklin Gage, Homer Gage, Stewart Garland, our income-tax man, and myself.”

  “You found five thousand dollars in cash in Edgar’s apartment?”

  “Yes. I’ve told you that two or three times. It’s the truth.”

  “And you knew Edgar hadn’t had an opportunity to save that much out of his salary since he’d started work?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Where did you think he got it?”

  She said, “My brother is—well, he has friends. He’s very likable, very magnetic, and I think he has friends who would help him out in a situation of that sort. … That’s what I thought.”

  “All right,” Mason said, “let’s face it. You’re in a jam. You’ve come to Los Angeles under an assumed name. You’ve got five thousand dollars in cash. You’re mixed up with a blackmailer. Suppose the accounts at the Escobar Import and Export Company show a five-thousand-dollar deficit?”

  Her hand went to her throat.

  “Now, you’re getting the point,” Mason told her. “There’s only one thing for you to do. Get a plane back to San Francisco. Get into your office tomorrow morning.

  “Now, do exactly as I say. If it turns out an auditor says there’s a five-thousand-dollar shortage, just laugh and say, ‘Oh, no, there isn’t.’ Tell the auditor that your brother was working on a company deal at the time of the accident; that you took out five thousand dollars to finance that deal; that Edgar asked you not to make an entry until he had had a chance to discuss the deal with Franklin Gage; that he thought it was going to be a good deal for the company but that you knew all about the five thousand dollars that he had and knew that it was company money.

  “You go to a local bank this afternoon, deposit the five thousand, buy a cashier’s check payable to you as trustee. As soon as your brother recovers consciousness, you’ll see him before anyone else does. … Make certain of that. As a member of the family you’ll have the right-of-way.

  “Then you can use your own judgment.”

  “But, Mr. Mason, this thing is coming to a head. It isn’t going to wait. This blackmailer—or whatever it is—this letter that my brother had was most urgent, imperative, demanding.”

  “What did you do with that letter?”

  “I burned it.”

  Mason said, “There was an ad in the paper for you to make contact with a cab passenger at—”

  “Heavens, how did you know about that?” she asked.

  “We make it a point to read the personal ads,” Mason said. “Why didn’t you contact the man in the taxicab?”

  “Because I didn’t like the looks of the thing. There were two passengers, a man and a woman. It was night, yet they both were wearing dark glasses. I thought it was a trap of some kind. I … well, I decided to pass it up. When I made contact I wanted it to be where there were no witnesses.”

  “I see,” Mason said thoughtfully, then abruptly he walked over to the telephone, asked the switchboard operator for an outside line, and got Paul Drake’s office.

  “Paul,” he said, “I want a female operative—blonde, twenty-two, twenty-three, or twenty-four, with a good figure—to come to the Willatson Hotel and go to Room Seven-sixty-seven.

  “She can’t carry anything with her except a handbag. She can make purchases and have them sent in from the department stores where she buys. She’ll take the name of Diana Deering, which is the name of the present occupant of the room.”

  “I know,” Drake said.

  “She’ll masquerade as Diana Deering. She’ll make it a point to get acquainted with the bellboys, with the clerks as they come on duty. She can ask them questions. Inquire about a monthly rate on the room. Do anything which will attract attention to herself as Diana Deering. And quit tailing the real Diana.”

  Drake said, “It happens that I have a girl who fits the description in the office right now, Perry. She’s Stella Grimes. She’s worked on one of your cases before, although I don’t know if you’ve seen her personally. The only thing is she’s a little older.”

  “How much older?” Mason asked.

  “Tut, tut,” Drake said, “you’re asking questions.”

  “You think she can get by?”

  “I think she can get by,” Drake said.

  “Get her up here,” Mason told him.

  “But what about me?” Diana asked when Mason hung up.

  “You’re going to get that cashier’s check payable to you as trustee and then go back to San Francisco.”

  “And what about my baggage?”

  “You’ll have to wait for that.”

  “How will I get it out of the hotel? Don’t they check people when you leave with baggage?”

  “Sure they do,” Mason said, “but we’ll fix that.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll rent a room here at the hotel. I’ll try to get one on the same floor. We’ll move your baggage into that room. Then I’ll check out, carrying the baggage with me, go right to the desk, and pay the bill on that room. They’ll have no way of knowing that one of the suitcases I’ll have with me was taken from Room Seven-sixty-seven.”

  “And what about this girl who is going to masquerade as me?”

  “She’ll deal with the blackmailer.”

  “And if I’ve turned the money in for a cashier’s check, what will we pay him—or her?”

  “We won’t,” Mason said. “It’s against the policy of the office to pay blackmailers.”

  “But what are you going to do? How can you avoid payment?”

  “I don’t know,” Mason told her. “We’ll play it by ear. I wish to hell your brother would regain consciousness so we could find out what it’s all about. … Get your suitcase packed.”

  Tears came to her eyes. “Edgar’s a wonderful boy, Mr. Mason.”

  Mason said, “I’m going down to a baggage store and get a suitcase. I’ll stuff it full of old paper, come back, and check into the hotel—somewhere on the seventh floor, if possible. I want you to wait right here. Promise me you won’t go out until I get back.”

  “I promise.”

  “And don’t answer the phone,” Mason warned.

  “I … all right, if you say so.”

  “I say so,” Mason told her.

  The lawyer walked to the door, turned, smiled, and said, “You’ll be all right, Diana.”

  Her eyes started to blink rapidly. “You’re wonderful,” she said. “I wish I’d told you all about it when I first came to your office.”

  “You can say that again,” Mason told her. “We might have headed off that damned auditor. As it is now, you’re hooked.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Figure it out,” Mason said. “We’re starting a little late. You’ve come to Los Angeles, registered in a hotel under an assumed name. You have a bag containing five thousand dollars in currency. And if the company where you work should happen to be short five thousand dollars, and if your brother should happen to die, and if you’re arrested before you get that cashier’s check—figure where you’ll be.”

  Mason walked out as her mouth slowly opened. He closed the door gently behind him.

  6

  THE LAWYER took the elevator to the lobby, went to a baggage store two doors down the street, selected a suitcase, paid for it; then he crossed to a secondhand bookstore.

  “I’m looking for some books dealing with the history of early California and, particularly, with the discovery of gold,” he said.

  The clerk led him to a shelf.

  “Do you,” Mason asked, “have paperback books?”

  “Oh, yes, we have quite a selection.”

  “I also want to get some of those books for lighter reading,” Mason said. “I’ll pick out some.”

  Ten minutes later Mason presented himself at the checking-out desk with an armful of books.

  The cashier scanned the penciled prices marked on the title pages, gave Mason the total figure, $27.85.

  “All right,” Mason said, “I’ll … why not put them in this suitcase?”

  The clerk, his attention drawn to the suitcase, leaned forward to pick it up and make sure it was empty, then smiled and said, “That’s quite all right. Put them in there if you want.”

  Mason put the books in the suitcase, paid the bill, walked back to the Hotel Willatson, said, “I’m going to be here probably overnight. I’d like to have a room somewhere above the fifth floor. I don’t like traffic noises.”

  “I can let you have eleven-eighty-four,” the room clerk said, “if you’re only going to be here one night, Mister … uh …”

  “Mason,” Perry Mason said. “I prefer to be a little lower than the eleventh floor. What have you got on the eighth?”

  “We’re all taken up.”

  “The seventh?”

  “I have one room on the seventh floor—seven-eighty-nine. It’s a slightly larger room than our average and a little more expensive. …”

  “That’s all right,” Mason said, “I’ll take it. I’m likely to be here only one night.”

  The lawyer registered, gave a bellboy a dollar to take his bag and escort him up to the room, waited until the bellboy had withdrawn; then put the room key in his pocket and walked down the hall to 767.

  He tapped gently on the panels.

  Diana Douglas opened the door.

  “Mr. Mason,” she said, “I’ve been thinking over what you said. It’s—I’m afraid I’m in a terrible position.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Mason told her, “I’ll take charge.”

  “You’re going to—to need more than the money I gave you.”

  “Unfortunately,” Mason said, “I spent a large amount of the money you gave me trying to check up on you and get back of the falsehoods you had told me. As it is now …”

  The lawyer broke off as a knuckle tapped gently on the door.

  Diana Douglas raised inquiring eyebrows.

  Mason strode across the room, opened the door to confront an alert-looking young woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and that something in her bearing which radiated competency and ability to look after herself under any circumstances.

  The woman smiled at him and said, “I recognize you, Mr. Mason, but you probably don’t know me. I’m from—well, I’m Stella Grimes.”

  “Come in, Stella,” Mason said.

  The lawyer closed the door and said, “Stella, this is Diana Douglas. She’s registered here as Diana Deering. You’re going to take over.”

  “Who am I?” Stella asked. “Diana Douglas or Diana Deering? … And how do you do, Diana. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “As far as the hotel is concerned you’re Diana Deering,” Mason said. “I’ll let you read an ad which appeared in the paper.”

  Mason handed her a copy of the ad which Diana had inserted in the paper and which was signed “36-24-36.”

  “I see, Mr. Mason,” Stella said, reading the ad carefully. Then she looked at Diana, looked at Perry Mason, and said, “Precisely what do I do?”

  “You identify yourself here as Diana Deering,” Mason said. “You sit tight and await developments and you report.”

  “Report on what?”

  “On everything.”

  “Can you give me any line on what is supposed to happen?” she asked. “I take it that I’m supposed to be here to make a cash payment. Suppose someone turns up and wants the cash?”

  “Then you stall,” Mason said.

  She nodded, took a card from her purse, scribbled something on it, and said, “You’ll probably want one of my cards, Mr. Mason.”

  The lawyer took the card she had given him. On the back was scribbled, “I’ve seen her before. I was the operative in the taxicab with Paul Drake last night.”

  Mason slipped the card in his pocket. “Exactly,” he said, “I’ll call you by name if I have to, but in the meantime I want you to impress upon the clerk that if someone calls and asks for you by the code numbers of thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six that the call is to be put through. You think you can make up a good story?”

  “I can try,” she said.

  “What do you have in the way of baggage?” Mason asked.

  “Just this purse that I brought in with me. I was instructed not to attract attention by coming in with any more than this.”

  “You can buy what you need at the department stores and have it sent in,” Mason said.

  “Any idea how long I’ll be here?”

  “It may be only a day. It may be three or four days. Just sit down and make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll take your suitcase down to Room Seven-eighty-nine, Diana,” he said. “Later on I’ll check out with it and give it to you in San Francisco. In the meantime, you take this key, go on down to seven-eighty-nine, and wait. Take that black bag and your purse with you. I’ll be seeing you in seven-eighty-nine in a few minutes. You use that room until you’re ready to get the cashier’s check and leave for the airport. Don’t come back to this room under any circumstances and don’t try to leave Room Seven-eighty-nine until I give you the all-clear sign.”

  “Any idea when that will be?” she asked.

  “When I think the coast is clear.”

  “Suppose the banks close before you say it’s okay for me to leave?”

  “Then you’ll have to keep the money with you until you get to San Francisco. Get the cashier’s check there, but don’t enter the office tomorrow until you have that check. When the office opens tomorrow I’ll be on hand to help. We’ll fix up the details before we leave Room Seven-eighty-nine. In the meantime, I want you out of here.”

  She nodded, said, “I want to get a couple of things from the bathroom.”

  Stella Grimes said to Mason, “You’d better brief me a little more. What happens if someone calls on me by this number, wants me to meet him with a sum of cash?”

  “Stall it along and notify Paul,” Mason told her.

  “And if there isn’t time for that?”

  “Make time.”

  “Am I to have any idea what it’s all about?” she asked.

  “Nothing that I can tell you,” Mason said.

  “Am I the party that’s being blackmailed?”

  “No,” Mason said, “you’re a girl friend, an angel who’s going to put up the money, but before you put up the money you want to be absolutely certain that you’re getting what you’re paying for. You’re a fairly wealthy young woman, but you’re rough, you’re tough, you’re hard-boiled. You know your way around. … Got a gun?”

  By way of answer she reached down the V of her blouse and suddenly produced a wicked-looking, snubnosed revolver.

  “I’m wearing my working bra,” she said as Diana emerged from the bathroom, her hands filled with toilet articles.

  “Good enough,” Mason told her. “I hope you don’t have to reach for it, but I’m glad you’ve got it. We don’t know with whom we’re dealing.”

  “Have there been—other payments?” she asked.

  “That we don’t know,” Mason said. “The present demand is for five grand. The probabilities are there’s been one earlier payment and this is—you know, the old story, the guy hates to be a blackmailer. He wants to begin life all over again. He had intended to collect a thousand or so every few months, but he just can’t live with himself on that kind of a deal. If he can get five grand he’s going to buy a little farm way out in the sticks and forget all about his past and turn over a new leaf.

  “In that case he’ll tell the sucker he’ll be done with payments forevermore, and all that sort of talk. … You know the line.”

  “I know the line,” she said, smiling, “I’ve heard it.”

  Mason took Diana’s suitcase and said, “We’re taking this down to seven-eighty-nine, Diana. You take that black bag. Be sure to follow instructions.”

  “And I’ll see you in San Francisco?”

  “That’s right. I’ll get in touch with you. Put your phone number and address here in my notebook. But stay in seven-eighty-nine until I give you an all-clear.”