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“No. That won’t do. You find out first whether or not you can make the arrangements, and then wait there. I’ll call you back in about five minutes. If you can go, I’ll meet you at the foot of the hill. If you can’t there’s no use going on a wild-goose chase.”

“Okay, five minutes, then,” Drumm said, and hung up.

Drake looked atMason. “You’re biting off a pretty big mouthful there, guy.”

“That’s all right. I can chew it.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I think I do.”

“If you’re trying to work up a defense for the jane, it would be a whole lot better to work it up without the police being there so that you could spring it on them as a surprise.”

“This isn’t that kind of a defense,” said Mason. “I want the police there.”

Drake shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s your funeral,” he said.

Mason nodded, walked over to the cigar counter, and bought some cigarettes. He waited five minutes, and then called Drumm.

Drumm said, “I’ve got Bill Hoffman sold on the idea, Mason, but he won’t take Eva Belter out there. He’s afraid you’re laying a trap for him. There are two dozen reporters hanging around the jail, and we couldn’t move her any place without having that bunch trailing along. Hoffman’s afraid you might get him out there, and pull a fast one that the newspapers could play up, and he’d be in a sweet spot. But he’s willing to go himself.”

“Okay,” Mason said, “that may work out just as well. Meet me out at the foot of Elmwood Drive. We’ll be waiting there in a Buick coupe.”

“Okay,” said Drumm. “We’re leaving in about five minutes.”

“See you later,” Mason told him, and slipped the receiver back on its hook.

Chapter 19

The four men pushed their way up the steps of the BelterMansion.

Sergeant Hoffman frowned at Mason. “Now listen, no fu

“Just keep your eyes and ears open, and if you think I’m uncovering something, go ahead and follow up the lead. Any time you think I’m trying to give you the double-cross, you can walk out.”

Hoffman said, “That’s fair.”

“Let’s remember one or two things before we start,” cautioned Mason. “I met Mrs. Belter at the drug store down at the foot of the hill. We came up together. She didn’t have her keys with her, and she didn’t have her purse. She’d left the door unlocked when she came out so she could get back in. She told me that the door was unlocked. When I tried the door it was locked. The night latch was on.”

Drumm said, “She’s such a liar, that if she told me a door was open, I’d know it was locked.”

“That’s all right, too,” Mason said, doggedly insistent, “but remember that she didn’t have her keys with her, and she went out in the rain. She was bound to figure on getting back in some way.”

“Maybe she was too rattled,” Hoffman pointed out.

“Not that baby,” Mason remarked.

“All right, go on,” said Hoffman, interested. “What’s next?”

“When I went in,” said Mason, “there was an umbrella in the stand, which was wet. There was a pool of water which had drained down from it on the floor underneath. You probably noticed it when you came.”

Sergeant Hoffman’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” he said, “come to think of it, I did notice it. What about it?”

“Nothing,” said Mason, “yet.” He reached out his finger and pushed the bell button.

After a few minutes the door was opened by the butler, who stared at them.

“Carl Griffin home?” asked Mason.

The butler shook his head. “No, sir,” he said, “he’s out. He had a business appointment, sir.”

“Mrs. Veitch, the housekeeper’s here?”

“Oh, yes, sir; of course, sir.”



“And her daughter, Norma?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right,” said Mason, “we’re going up to Belter’s study. Don’t say anything to anybody about the fact that we’re here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said the butler.

Hoffman stepped inside the door, and looked searchingly at the hall stand in which the umbrella had stood the night of the murder. His eyes were very thoughtful.

Drumm was whistling nervously in a low, almost inaudible note.

They climbed up the stairs, and went into the suite where Belter’s body had been found. Mason switched on the lights and began a minute search of the walls.

“I wish you folks would take a look,” he said.

“What are you looking for?” asked Drumm.

“A bullet hole,” said Mason.

Sergeant Hoffman grunted and said, “You can save your time on that. We’ve gone over every inch of these rooms, and had them photographed, and mapped. A bullet couldn’t have gone through here without leaving a hole we’d have seen, and there’d have been plaster chipped loose.”

“I know,” said Mason. “I made a search before you got here looking for the same thing, and couldn’t find it. But I want to make one more search. I know what must have happened, but I can’t prove it, yet.”

Sergeant Hoffman, suddenly suspicious, said, “Look here, Mason! Are you trying to clear that woman?”

Mason turned and faced him.

“I’m trying to show what actually happened,” he said.

Hoffman frowned. “That doesn’t answer my question. Are you trying to free the woman?”

“Yes.”

“That lets me out,” said Hoffman.

“No, it doesn’t,” said Mason. “I’m going to give you an opportunity to get your pictures all over the front pages of the papers.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Hoffman. “You’re clever, Mason. I’ve looked you up.”

“All right, if you’ve looked me up, you know I never go back on my friends. Sidney Drumm is a friend of mine. I got him in on this. If it had been any kind of a frame-up, I’d have got somebody I didn’t know.”

Sergeant Hoffman admitted grudgingly, “Well, I’m going to stick around a little while, but don’t try any fu

Mason stood staring at the bathroom. There were chalk-lines on the floor, marking the position in which the body of George Belter had been found.

Suddenly Mason laughed aloud.

“I’ll be damned!”

“What’s the joke?” asked Drumm.

Mason turned to Sergeant Hoffman.

“Okay, Sergeant,” he said, “I’m ready to go ahead and show you something. Will you send for Mrs. Veitch and her daughter?”

Sergeant Hoffman looked dubious. “What do you want with them?”

Mason said, “I want to ask them some questions.”

Hoffman shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I don’t think I want you to—not until I know more about it.”

“This is on the level, Sergeant,” Mason insisted. “You sit and listen to the questions. Any time you think I’m getting off the reservation, you can stop me. Hell’s fire, man! If I wanted to slip over a fast one, I’d run you in front of a jury and then pull my stuff as a surprise. I certainly wouldn’t go out and take the police in on the ground floor of what my defense was going to be.”