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"Can you," Mason said, settling back in his chair, "remember anything of your early childhood?"
"Why of course," she told him, removing her hand and staring at him in steady appraisal.
"You were an adopted child, I believe."
"Say, what's the idea?" she asked, her eyes suddenly wary, her muscles stiffening as though she were ready to run. "You said you wanted to see me about keeping out newspaper reporters."
Mason nodded easily and said, "That was the stall Pete told me to use to fool the telephone girl. I supposed he'd tipped you off on it."
"Pete?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Sure," Mason said, blowing out a casual puff of cigarette smoke.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Mason frowned impatiently. "Listen! I haven't got all day on this thing. Pete Sacks and Victor Stockton told me to get in touch with you. Pete said not to let you know who I was, because he was afraid someone might be listening in on the telephone calls, so I was to pull that stall about keeping the newspaper reporters away from you, and he was to tip you off what it meant so I wouldn't have any trouble getting in. When you told me to come on up, I figured of course Pete had been in touch with you."
Her eyes studied the pink polish on her fingernails for almost ten seconds before she said, "Who are you?"
Mason said, "Look here; there's no chance Pete's double-crossing both of us, is there? You came over on the Monterey with Bishop Mallory, didn't you?"
She nodded her head, started to say something, then changed her mind, hesitated a moment.
Mason heard the faint sound of a door-latch clicking behind him, but was afraid to turn his head.
"Just who are you?" the girl asked again, and this time her voice seemed filled with more confidence.
A man standing in the doorway said, "His name's Perry Mason. He's a lawyer representing a couple of blackmailers who are trying to shake down the estate for a nice piece of change."
Mason slowly turned and encountered the steely eyes of Victor Stockton.
"A lawyer!" Janice Brownley exclaimed, getting to her feet, her voice showing consternation.
"Yes. What have you told him?"
"Nothing."
Stockton nodded and said to Mason, "It's time you and I had a little talk."
Mason said grimly, "When I talk to you, it'll be on the witness stand and under oath."
Stockton moved easily across the room, dropped into a chair and said, "Pour me a drink, Janice." His watchful eyes didn't leave Mason's face.
Janice Brownley splashed Scotch into a glass and fumbled for ice cubes with the silver tongs. Stockton settled back in the chair comfortably and said to Mason, "Don't be too sure. There's a warrant out for your arrest."
"For my arrest!" Mason exclaimed.
Stockton nodded and gri
Mason's shrewd eyes studied the other man in critical appraisal. "Because of Sacks?" he asked.
"Because of Sacks," Stockton said. "You can't pull that stuff and get away with it."
Mason remarked grimly, "The hell I can't. You haven't seen anything yet. I was going to let the matter drop. But if you want to go ahead with it, we'll see where you get off. Sacks tried to commit murder. He pulled a gun on me and I smashed his nose and took it away from him. He got off lucky."
Stockton said to Janice Brownley, "Not too much soda Janice." He turned his frosty back to Mason and said, "Listen, I'm a detective. Pete's working for me. We've known for more than three weeks an attempt was going to be made to shake Brownley down. I didn't know just how it was going to be done. I figured it would be played through some lawyer. A smart lawyer would have kept himself in the clear by going to Brownley first and then letting Janice come to him with a proposition. A boob would have laid himself wide open to blackmail charges by coming to Janice first. In either event, it was a shakedown, so I figured on beating you to the punch. I tipped the old man off, and I told Janice just what she could expect. We were laying for you. Then you stole a march on us by killing the old man… Now, keep your shirt on. I don't say you did it, but you know who did it and I know who did it. That's put us in a fu
Janice Brownley silently handed him the glass. Stockton clinked the ice against the sides of the glass and raised it to his lips.
"So what?" Mason asked.
Stockton said, "You'd like to have me tell you that if you'd step out of the case, Pete Sacks would drop the charges against you. Then you'd use that statement to show the D.A. we were trying to use him for a cat's-paw. Well, Mr. Perry Mason, you've got another guess coming. That's a trap I'm not walking into."
"I'm still listening," Mason told him.
Stockton said slowly, measuring his words with scrupulous care, "It might be better business for Janice to make some sort of compromise. It's going to be darned near impossible for her to prove her relationship. On the other hand, it's going to be utterly impossible for anyone to disprove it."
"You have something in mind?" Mason asked.
"Have you?" Stockton countered.
"No."
"No offer of settlement?"
"None whatever."
Stockton said, "All right then, we're going to fight every inch of the way. There'll be no compromise. You've seen fit to mix in this thing, and now you're going to take it right on the chin. If you'd stayed in your office, minding your own business and practicing law, you'd have been in the clear. You didn't do that. You went ru
Mason said, "I'm not slamming any doors just yet. And, by the way, Janice, where were you when your grandfather was killed?"
Stockton set down his glass. His face darkened a shade. "So," he said, "you're going to try something like that, eh?"
"I just asked a question," Mason said.
"Well, you ask too damn many questions. And, in case you want to know, Janice has a perfect alibi. She was with me."
A slow smile spread over Mason's face and he said, "Well, now isn't that nice. Janice is a ringer you've planted on the old man. She's about to get shown up and you are desperate so you…"
"Steal Julia Bra
"And in addition," Janice Brownley said, "there were…"
"Keep out of this, Janice," Stockton interrupted, without shifting his eyes from the lawyer. "I'll do the talking."