Della Street said, "Here's Paul Drake on the line, Chief."

  Mason crossed over to the telephone.

  Drake said, "Hello, Perry. I'm going to give you a description of a man and you can tell me if it means anything to you."

  "Go ahead."

  "Five-foot eight or nine; weight about a hundred and thirty-five pounds, bony shoulders; high cheekbones; very dark but rather small eyes, and a pointed nose that's quite prominent. He's in his late thirties or early forties, quick-moving, nervous-"

  "You are describing Mr. Montrose Foster," Mason interrupted. "He's the president of Missing Heirs and Lost Estates, Incorporated, and he called on me trying to pump me for information. Harrison Boring worked for him before branching out on his own."

  "He's found Dianne Alder."

  "The hell he has."

  "That's right."

  "How did he find her?"

  "I'm darned if I know, Perry. He nosed her out some way. The guy probably is pretty smart. He seems to be a fast worker.

  "I think he traced Harrison Boring to Bolero Beach and when he got to inquiring around Bolero Beach he found out that Boring was interested in Dianne Alder.

  "Now, it's anybody's guess whether Foster did a little snooping around and found out what Boring's deal with Dianne was, and took it from there; or whether he decided to work fast and go shake Dianne down and see what she'd tell him.

  "One thing is certain. Dianne became very much upset as a result of his visit, and shortly after he left, Dianne got her car and droveoff in a rush."

  "You're not having her tailed?" Mason asked.

  "No. You didn't tell me to. As it happened, the Bolero Beach operative who was nosing around on Boring's back track happened to learn that this character with the pointed nose had been making inquiries about Boring, and so he tried to pick the guy up. He ran into him just as Foster was leaving Dianne's apartment. Then Dianne came out within about ten minutes, jumped in her car and took off in a hurry."

  "How long ago?"

  "An hour or an hour and a half."

  Mason said, "Your man, Moose Dillard, who was shadowing Boring, seems to have attracted Boring's attention. Boring detected the other tail he was wearing and then spotted Dillard when Dillard registered in the Restawhile Motel. He went over to take a look at Dillard's automobile. That car is registered in your name."

  "So I understand," Drake said. "I have a report on it. What are you goi to do about Dillard?"

  "I'm talking with Sid Nye now," Mason said. "Sid is in my suite here in the hotel. I told him to have Dillard stay put. We'll get some woman operative to look as though she's keeping a motel date with him, and take some sandwiches and a Thermos jug of coffee in to him. He can, of course, get a line on anyone who comes to see Boring there at the motel but his efficiency is pretty much impaired as far as we're concerned."

  "How about putting another shadow on Boring?"

  "I don't know," Mason said. "I don't think it's going to be necessary. I've decided to cut the Gordian knot by getting in touch with the man about whom this whole thing revolves."

  "Who's that?"

  "George D. Winlock."

  "Winlock!" Drake said.

  "Right."

  "You've decided he's the one Dianne was picked out for?"

  "No. I'm approaching the problem from another angle, Paul. I've come to the conclusion Winlock holds the key to the entire situation."

  "Can you discuss it over the phone?"

  "No," Mason said. "I'll have to quarterback it from here, Paul."

  "Okay," Drake said. "You're on the ground up there and Nye is in charge of the forces up there. You just go ahead and tell Sid what you want done… Do you want my men on the job down there in Bolero Beach any more?"

  "No, call them off," Mason said. "I'll tell Sid what to do."

  As Mason hung up the phone, Sid said, "Well, I'll get busy and get some good-looking gal lined up who can take some dinner in to Dillard. Dillard has a phone in his room and can call out, but we have to play it easy because the line goes through a switchboard there at the motel and there's always the chance the manager may be listening in."

  "Where can I reach you if I should want you in a hurry?" Mason asked.

  "The best way is through the office of the TriCounties Detective Agency. They're our correspondents up here and we co-operate with them down at our end of the line and they handle things up here."

  "Okay," Mason said. "I'll be in touch with you."

  "You're going to see this man Winlock?"

  "I'm going to try to."

  "He's a pretty shrewd operator," Nye said. "He plays them close to his chest."

  Mason nodded to Della Street. "See if you can get him on the line, Della."

  "Maybe I'd better wait here until you find out what's cooking," Nye said.

  Della Street consulted the telephone book, put through the call and nodded to Perry Mason. "Mr. Winlock," she said, "this is the secretary of Mr. Perry Mason, an attorney of Los Angeles. Mr. Mason would like to talk with you. Will you hold the phone just a moment, please?"

  Mason took the phone which Della Street extended to him, said, "Hello, Mr. Winlock. Perry Mason talking."

  Winlock's voice was cold and cautious. "I've heard of you, Mr. Mason," he said. "And I have seen you. I was in the courthouse very briefly one time when you were trying a case up here in Riverside."

  "I see," Mason said. "I would like to have a few minutes of your time, Mr. Winlock."

  "When?"

  "At the earliest possible moment."

  "Can you tell me what it's about?"

  "It's about a matter which concerns you personally, and which I think it would be unwise to discuss over the telephone even in general terms."

  "Where are you now?"

  "I'm at the Mission Inn."

  "I have an important meeting a little later on, Mr. Mason, but I can give you thirty minutes if you could come out right away."

  "I'll be there within ten minutes," Mason promised.

  "Thank you. Do you know where I live?"

  "I have the address," Mason said. "I'll rely on a cabdriver to get me there."

  Mason hung up the telephone, said to Della Street, "You're going to have to hold the fort, Della. Keep in touch with things and I'll let you know as soon as I leave Winlock's."

  Nye said, "I'll drive you out, Perry. I know where the place is. I can drive you out and wait until you finish your interview and drive you back."

  Mason hesitated a minute, then said, "Okay, do that, if you will, Sid. It will save a few minutes and those few minutes may be precious. I want all the time I can have with Winlock."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  George D. Winlock's house was an imposing. structure on a scenic knoll.

  Nye parked the car in front of the door and said, "I'll wait."

  "Okay," Mason said. "I shouldn't be very long."

  Mason ran up the steps to the porch, pressed the pearl button, heard the muted chimes in the interior of the house and almost instantly the door was opened by a young man in his late teens or early twenties who regarded Mason with insolent appraisal.

  "Yeah?" he asked.

  "I am Perry Mason," the lawyer said. "I have an appointment with George Winlock."

  "C'mon in," the young man said.

  Mason followed him into a reception hallway. The young man gestured toward a door on the right. "George," he yelled. "C'mon down."

  He turned to Mason and said, "Go on in there."

  Having said that, the young man turned his back, walked through a curtained doorway and disappeared.

  Mason went through the door indicated and found himself in a large room which was evidently used for entertaining purposes. In addition to the arrangement of chairs around the table in the center of the room and in front of the fireplace, there were enough chairs along the sides to seat a dozen guests.

  Mason was standing, looking around, when a tall, thin individual in the early fifties, wearing dark glasses entered the room. He came forward with an air of quiet dignity, extended his hand and said, "How do you do, Mr. Mason? I'm George Winlock."

  Mason shook hands and said, "I'm sorry to disturb you outside of office hours but it is a matter which I considered to be of some importance."

  "I would certainly trust your judgment as to the importance of the matter," Winlock said.

  Mason studied the man thoughtfully. "The matter is personal and it's rather embarrassing for me to bring it up."

  "Under those circumstances," Winlock said, "if you will be seated right here in this chair, Mr. Mason, I'll take this one and we'll start right in without any preliminaries. I have an appointment later on and my experience has been that those things which may prove embarrassing are best disposed of by going right to the heart of the matter and not beating around the bush."

  Mason said, "Before seeking this interview, Mr. Winlock, I tried to find out something about your background."

  "That," Winlock said, "would be simply a matter of good business judgment. I frequently do the same thing. If I am going to submit a proposition to someone, I like to know something about his background, his likes and dislikes."

  "And," Mason went on, "I found you had enjoyed a very successful career here in Riverside over the past fourteen years."

  Winlock merely inclined his head in a grave gesture of dignified assent.

  "But," Mason said, "I couldn't find out anything at all about you before you came to Riverside."

  Winlock said quietly, "I have been here for fourteen years, Mr. Mason. I think that if you have any business matter to take up with me, you can certainly find out enough about me in connection with my activities over that period to enable you to form a pretty good impression as to my likes and dislikes and my tastes."

  "That is quite true," Mason said, "but the matter that I have to take up with you is such that I would have liked to have known about your earlier background."

  "Perhaps if you'll tell me what the matter is," Winlock said, "it won't be necessary to take up so much of the limited time at our disposal searching into my background."

  "Very well," Mason said. "Do you know a Dianne Alder?"

  "Alder, Alder," Winlock said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Now, it's difficult to answer that question, Mr. Mason, because my business interests are very complex and I have quite an involved social life here. I don't have too good a memory for names, offhand, and usually when a matter of that sort comes up I have to refer the inquiry to my secretary who keeps an alphabetical list of names that are important to me… May I ask if this person you mention, this Dianne Alder, is a client of yours?"

  "She is," Mason said.

  "An interest which pivots about the affairs of some other client?" Winlock asked.

  Mason laughed and said, "Now you're cross-examining me, Mr. Winlock."

  "Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"

  "If you are not acquainted with Dianne Alder, there is no reason why you should," Mason said.

  "And if I am acquainted with this person?"

  "Then," Mason said, "a great deal depends upon the nature of that knowledge-or, to put it another way, on the measure of the association."

  "Are you implying in any way that there has been an undue intimacy?" Winlock asked coldly.

  "I am not implying any such thing," Mason said. "I am simply trying to get a plain answer to a simple question as to whether you know Dianne Alder."

  "I'm afraid I'm not in a position to answer that question definitely at the moment, Mason. I might be able to let you know later on."

  "Put it this way," Mason said. "The name means nothing to you at this time? You wouldn't know whether you were acquainted with her unless you had your secretary look it up on an alphabetical index?"

  "I didn't exactly say that," Winlock said. "I told you generally something about my background in regard to people and names and then I asked you some questions which I consider very pertinent as to the nature and extent of your interest in ascertaining my knowledge or lack of it as far as the party in question is concerned."

  "All right," Mason said, "I'll stop sparring with you, Mr. Winlock, and start putting cards on the table. Dianne Alder's father disappeared fourteen years ago. He was presumed to have been drowned. Now then, is there any possibility that prior to the time you came to Riverside there was a period in your life where you suffered from amnesia? Is it possible that, as a result of some injury or otherwise, you are not able to recall the circumstances of your life prior to arriving in Riverside? Is it possible that you could have had a family and perhaps a daughter and that your memory has become a blank as to such matters?

  "Now, I am putting that in the form of a question, Mr. Winlock. I am not making it as a statement, I am not making it as an accusation, I am not making it as a suggestion. I am simply putting it in the form of a question because I am interested in the answer. If the answer is no, then the interview is terminated as far as I am concerned."

  "You are acting upon the assumption that Dianne Alder may be my natural daughter?" Winlock asked.

  "I am making no such statement, no such suggestion, and am acting upon no such assumption," Mason said. "I am simply asking you if, prior to the time you arrived in Riverside, there is any possibility that there is a hiatus in your memory due to amnesia, traumatic or otherwise."

  Winlock got to his feet. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Mason, but there is no hiatus in my memory. I have never been bothered with amnesia and I remember my past life perfectly in all its details.

  "I believe that answers your question, and, as you remarked, an answer of this sort would terminate the interview as far as you are concerned."

  "That is quite correct," Mason said, getting to his feet. "I just wanted to be certain, that's all."

  "And may I ask why you came to me with this question?" Winlock asked, as he started escorting Mason to the door.

  "Because," Mason said, "if there had been any possibility of such a situation existing, I might have been in a position to have spared you a great deal of embarrassment and trouble."

  "I see," Winlock said, hesitating somewhat in his stride.

  Mason stopped, faced the other man. "One more question," he said. "Do you know a Harrison T. Boring who is at the moment registered in Unit io at the Restawhile Motel?"

  "Boring… Boring," Winlock said, frowning. "Now, there again, Mr. Mason, I'm going to have to point out to you that one of my pet peeves is having someone pull a name out of a hat and say, "Do you know this person or that person?" My business affairs are rather complex and-"

  "I know, I know," Mason interrupted, "and your social life is not by any means simple. Buf if you know Harrison T. Boring in the way that you would know him if my surmise is correct, you wouldn't need to ask your secretary to look up his name on an alphabetical list."

  "And just what is your surmise, Mr. Mason?"

  "My surmise," Mason said, "is that regardless of whom he may be contacting, Harrison Boring tied Dianne Alder up in a contract by which he was in a position to collect a full fifty per cent of any gross income from any source whatever which Dianne might receive during the period of the next few years. He then dropped Dianne and repudiated the contract, indicating he had opened up a more lucrative market for any knowledge he might have."

  Winlock stood very stiff and very still. Then said, at length, "You know that he made such a contract?"

  "Yes."

  "May I ask the source of your information, Mr. Mason?"

  "I've seen the contract and know of its subsequent repudiation. If, therefore, you are not being frank with me, Mr. Winlock, you should realize what the repudiation of Dianne's contract means. It means that Boring feels he could get more than half of what Dianne is entitled to. This means he has opened up a new source of income which he intends to use to the limit."

  "I think," Winlock said, "you had better come back here and sit down, Mr. Mason. The situation is a little more complex than I had anticipated."

  Winlock walked back to the chair he had just vacated, seated himself and indicated that Mason was to seat himself in the other chair.

  Mason sat down and waited.

  There was a long period of silence.

  At length Mason took out his cigarette case, offered one to Winlock, who shook his head.

  "Mind if I smoke?" Mason asked.

  "Go right ahead. There's an ash tray there on the table."

  Mason lit the cigarette.

  Winlock said, after a moment, "What you have just told me, Mr. Mason, is very much of a shock to me."

  Mason said nothing.

  "All right," Winlock said. "I see that you are starting an investigation, Mr. Mason, and I may as well forestall some of the results of that investigation. I had hoped that it never would be necessary for me to tell anyone the things I am going to tell you.

  "My true name is George Alder. I was married to Eunice Alder. A little over fourteen years ago I started for Catalina Island in an open boat with an outboard motor. The boat ran out of fuel when we encountered head winds and heavy tide currents. We drifted about for a while, then a storm came up and the boat capsized. The accident happened at night. I am a good swimmer. I tried to keep in touch with my companion, but lost him in the darkness. I managed to keep myself afloat for some two hours. Then, as it was getting daylight, I saw a boat approaching. I managed to wave and shout and finally got the attention of one of the girls on the boat. She called out to the man at the wheel and the boat veered over and picked me up.

  "I was near exhaustion.

  "My married life had not been happy. My wife, Eunice, and I had, as it turned out, very little in common other than the first rush of passion which had brought about the marriage. When that wore off and we settled down to a day-by-day relationship, we became mutually dissatisfied. She evidenced that dissatisfaction by finding fault with just about everything I did. If I drove a car, I was driving either too fast or too slow. If I reached a decision, she always questioned the decision.

  "I evidenced my dissatisfaction by staying away from home a great deal and in the course of time developed other emotional interests.