Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 17 из 52



“Now listen,” he said to her in a low voice, as he helped her out, “the house seems to be quiet. Nobody else heard the shot. The police aren’t here yet. You’ve got to use your head. If you’ve been lying to me, it will mean that you’re going to get into serious difficulties.”

“I haven’t been lying,” she said. “I told you the truth—honest to God.”

“Okay,” he said, and they sprinted across the porch.

“The door’s unlocked. I left it unlocked,” she said, “you can go right in.” And she hung back, in order to let him be the first to enter the house.

Perry Mason tried thedoor.

“No,” he said, “it’s locked. The night latch is on. Have you got your key?”

She looked at him blankly.

“No,” she said, “my key’s in my purse.”

“Where’s your purse?” he asked her.

She stared at him with eyes that were indistinct, but her poise was that of one who is rigid with terror.

“My God!” she said, “I must have left my purse up in the room with… with my husband’s body!”

“You had it with you when you went upstairs?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “I know I did. But I must have dropped it. I don’t remember having it with me when I came out.”

“We’ve got to get in,” he said. “Is there another door that’s open?”

She shook her head, then suddenly said, “Yes, there’s a back door where the servants come in. There’s a key that we keep hanging up under the eaves of the garage. It will open the door, and we can get in that way.”

“Let’s go.”

They walked down the steps from the porch and around the gravel driveway which circled the house. The house was dark and silent. Wind was lashing the shrubbery, and rain was pelting against the sides of the house, but no noise whatever came from the interior of the gloomy mansion.

“Don’t make any noise,” he cautioned her. “I want to get in without the servants hearing us. If nobody’s awake, I want to have a minute or two to check things over after I see how the land lies inside.”

She nodded, groped in the eaves of the garage, found the key, and opened the back door.

“All right,” he said. “You sneak through the house and let me in the front door. I’ll lock this back door from the outside, and put the key back in the place on the nail.”

She nodded her head and vanished in the darkness of the house. He closed the door, locked it, and put the key back where it had been; then he retraced his steps around the front of the house.

Chapter 8

Perry Mason reached the front door and stood there, waiting on the porch for what seemed to him to be two or three minutes before he heard Eva Belter’s step and the click of the lock. She opened the door and smiled at him.

There was a light burning in the entrance hall, a night light which illuminated things vaguely, showing the dark stretch of stairs which led up to the upper floor, the furniture of the reception hallway, a couple of straight back chairs, an ornamental mirror, a coat rack, and umbrella stand.

There was a woman’s coat on the rack, two canes, and three umbrellas in the stand. A trickle of rain water had oozed from the bottom of the stand where the umbrellas were kept, and made a puddle which reflected the rays of the night light.



“Look here,” said Mason in a whisper. “You didn’t turn out the light when you went out?”

“No,” she said, “it was just like this when I left.”

“You mean that your husband let some one come in this door to see him without turning on any lights except that night light?”

“Yes,” she said, “I guess so.”

“Don’t you ordinarily keep a brighter light burning over the stairs until the family has retired?”

“Sometimes,” she said, “but George has his upstairs apartment all to himself. He doesn’t bother the rest of us, and we don’t bother him.”

“All right,” said Mason. “Let’s go on up. Turn on the light.”

She clicked a switch, and the stairway was flooded with light.

Mason led the way up the stairs and into the reception room of the suite where he had first seen George Belter.

The door through which Belter had entered on that occasion was now closed. Mason turned the knob, opened the door and stepped into the study.

It was a huge room, done in much the same style as the sitting room. The chairs were huge and heavily upholstered. The desk was twice the size of an ordinary large desk. There was a door open which led into a bedroom, and, within a few feet of that door, was the door which led into the bath. There was also a door from the bedroom to the bathroom.

The body of George Belter lay on the floor, just inside the doorway from the bathroom to the study. It was wrapped in a fla

Eva Belter gave a little scream and clung closely to Mason. Mason shook her off, strode to the body, and knelt down.

The man was quite dead. There had been but one bullet, and that had penetrated directly through the heart. Death had apparently been instantaneous.

Mason felt the inside of the bathrobe and noticed that it was damp. He pulled the bathrobe together over the corpse, stepped over the outstretched arm, and into the bathroom.

Like the other rooms of the suite, the bathroom was built on a massive scale, for a huge man. The bathtub, set down below the level of the floor, was some three or four feet deep and almost eight feet long. A huge washbowl occupied the center of the bathroom. There were towels folded on the racks. Mason looked at them, then turned to Eva Belter.

“Listen,” he said, “he was taking a bath, and something caused him to get up and get out. Notice that he flung on his bathrobe, and didn’t dry himself with a towel. He was still wet when he put the bathrobe around him, and the towels are all folded, and haven’t been used.”

She nodded slow acquiescence. “Do you suppose we had better moisten a bath towel and crumple it as though he had dried himself?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I just wondered.”

“Listen,” he told her, “we get to faking evidence here, and we’re going to get into serious difficulty. Now listen, and get this straight! Apparently, no one besides yourself knows what happened, or when. The police will get sore if they aren’t notified right away. They’ll also want to know how you happened to telephone to a lawyer before you telephoned to them. It makes it look like a suspicious circumstance as far as you’re concerned. D’you understand?”

She nodded again, her eyes wide and dark.

“All right,” he said, “now get this, and get it straight, and keep your head all the way through. Here’s what happened. You’re going to tell exactly the truth, just as you told it to me, with one exception. And that is about your coming back upstairs after the man had left the house. That’s the thing that I don’t like about your story, and that’s the thing that the police won’t like about it. If you had presence of mind enough to go up the stairs and look around, then you would have had presence of mind enough to call the police. The fact that you wanted to call an attorney before you called the police, is going to make the police think that you had a consciousness of guilt.”