Страница 28 из 43
"Yes," Mason said sarcastically, "he's your alibi, Janice. He swears you were with him when the murder was committed, so you couldn't have done it, and you swear he was with you, so he couldn't have done it."
Stockton gri
"What do you want?" Mason asked.
"Nothing."
"What's your proposition?"
Stockton gri
Mason said sarcastically, "I presume that after Pete Sacks broke into Bishop Mallory's room, sapped the bishop with a blackjack and stole the bishop's private papers, the D.A. will consider it a felony for someone who's representing Bishop Mallory to recover the papers?"
Stockton shook his head. "Don't be fu
There was genuine surprise in Mason's voice. "The key?" he asked.
Stockton nodded.
"What key?"
"The one you got," Stockton said grimly. "Don't play so damn i
"I got a bunch of keys," Mason said.
"As well as a hundred dollars in cash and a few other things. But what you wanted was the key."
Mason kept his face without expression. Stockton studied him for a moment and said, "Don't act so damn i
"After the murder, you were mixed in so deep you had to get her out in order to get yourself out. You had to get that key from Pete, because that key corroborated his testimony. So you trapped Pete into an apartment where you could beat him up and grab the evidence, but we've got just a little more on Julia Bra
Mason got to his feet. Stockton set down the empty glass, took a step toward Mason and said, "And don't come here any more. Do you get that?"
Mason stared at the man moodily. "I have," he said, slowly, "already smashed one nose, and I'd just as soon smash another."
Stockton stood still, neither retreating nor advancing. "And you have already stolen some papers which were evidence in the case," he said. "When Pete tried to get back that evidence you swung on him and pulled a gun on me. Don't forget that. And if you keep on playing around with this bunch of blackmailers you're tied up with, you'll probably find yourself mixed in a murder charge."
Mason strode toward the door, but turned in the doorway. "How much of a cut are you supposed to get out of the inheritance for having dug up an heir to the estate?" he asked.
Stockton gri
Mason left the room, took the elevator to the lobby, and was halfway across the sidewalk when someone touched him on the arm. He whirled to encounter Philip Brownley. "Hello," he said, "what are you doing here?"
Brownley said grimly, "I'm keeping watch on Janice."
"Afraid something's going to happen to her?" Mason asked.
Brownley shook his head and said, "Look here, Mr. Mason, I want to talk with you."
"Go on and talk," Mason told him.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"My car's parked at the curb. I saw you go in, and called to you, but you didn't hear me. I was waiting for you to come out. Let's sit in my car and talk."
Mason said, "I don't like the climate around here. A man by the name of Stockton is playing smart… Do you know Stockton?"
Brownley said slowly, "He's the one who helped Janice kill Grandfather."
Mason's eyes bored steadily into Brownley's. "Are you just talking?" he asked. "Or are you saying something?"
"I'm saying something."
"Where's your car?"
"Over here."
"All right. Let's get in it."
Brownley opened the door of a big gray cabriolet and slid in behind the steering wheel. Mason climbed in beside him, sitting next to the curb, and pulled the door shut.
"This your car?" he asked.
"Yes."
"All right, what about Janice?"
There were dark circles under Brownley's eyes. His face was white and haggard. He lit a cigarette with a hand that trembled, but when he spoke his voice was steady. "I took the message the cab driver left last night-or rather this morning," he said.
"What did you do with it?"
"Took it up to my grandfather."
"Was he asleep?"
"No. He'd gone to bed, but he wasn't sleeping. He was reading a book."
"So what?" Mason asked.
"He read the message and got excited as the devil. He jumped into his clothes and told me to have someone get his car out, that he was going down to the beach to meet Julia Bra
"He told you that?" Mason asked.
"Yes."
"What did you do?"
"I advised him not to go."
"Why?"
"I thought it was a trap."
Mason's eyes narrowed slowly. "Did you think someone would try to kill him?"
"No. Of course not. But I thought they might try to trap him into some compromising situation, or into making statements."
Mason nodded. There was a moment or two of silence, and then the lawyer said. "Go on. This is your party. You're doing the talking."
"I went down personally and opened the garage so Grandfather could get his car out. When he came down I begged him to let me drive him. It was a mean night, and Grandfather isn't… wasn't… so much of a driver. He couldn't see well at night."
"And he wouldn't let you drive?" Mason asked.
"No. He said he must go alone; that Julia's letter insisted he must be alone and that no one must follow him, otherwise he'd have his trip for nothing."