The Case of the Singing Skirt

"Who is it?" Ellen Robb's voice asked.

"Mason," the lawyer said.

"Oh," she said. Then, after a moment, "I'm not even decent, Mr. Mason."

"Get decent," Mason said. "This is important."

"How important?" she asked, sudden alarm in her voice.

"Important enough to get me down here," Mason said.

Ellen Robb turned the key in the lock. "Come on in," she said.

Mason entered.

"Don't mind me," Ellen Robb said. "I can stand it if you can. Did you bring the papers for me to sign?"

"I brought the papers," Mason said. "I want you to do two things."

"What?"

"Sign this complaint and get some clothes on."

"Which first?"

"The complaint."

She seated herself on the stool at the dressing table, took the papers that Mason handed her, said, "Is it all right for me to sign?"

"It is," Mason said. "You're suing George and Marcus for seven thousand, five hundred dollars. Sign now, then dress, and after you dress read the complaint carefully."

She signed, then pushed back the stool.

"Want to talk to me while I dress?"

Mason hesitated a moment, then said, "It's better you don't know what this is all about," he said. "Just get dressed. Now, remember, if anything happens before we leave here, I simply came here to have you sign these papers."

She regarded him with a puzzled expression as she carefully smoothed stockings up on her long legs, pulled a dress over her head.

"You're a deep one," she said.

Mason said, "Ellen, I want to know one thing. I want you to tell me the truth."

"What is it?"

"Were you cutting corners with Helman Ellis?"

"Why?"

"George Anclitas says you were. His partner, Slim Marcus, says you were."

"Slim!" she blazed. "He's a great one. That guy was making passes at me from the moment I came on the job, pulling the kind of stuff on me that the way to get ahead was to co-operate with the people who could help me and-"

"Never mind that," Mason said. "I'm talking about Ellis."

"Ellis," she said, "I think was… well, fascinated."

"How about you?" Mason asked. "Did you give him a tumble?"

"I strung him along a little bit. I was supposed to. I-"

Knuckles sounded on the door.

She looked at Mason in surprise, then called, "Who is it?"

"Police," Lt. Tragg's voice said. "Will you open up, please? We want to ask you some questions."

"This is it," Mason said.

She hurriedly buttoned her blouse.

Mason walked to the door, opened it and said, "Why, how are you, Lieutenant?"

"You!" Tragg said.

"Whom did you expect?"

Tragg took a deep breath. "I should have expected you. Where's Ellen Robb?"

"I'm Ellen Robb. What's the trouble?"

Ellen Robb stepped forward.

Tragg sized her up. "You know Helman Ellis of Rowena?" he asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"His wife, Nadine?"

"Yes."

"Any trouble with Nadine?"

"Now, wait a minute," Mason said. "Before you start throwing a lot of questions at my client, let's find out what it's all about."

"That's a good one," Tragg said. "No idea what it's all about, eh? What are you doing here if you don't know what it's all about?"

Mason said, "I am suing George Anclitas and his partners for claims which Miss Robb has against George for giving her a black eye, for kicking her out of her room and into the cruel, cold world when she was garbed only in her professional working attire, consisting of little more than a pair of tights and a look of extreme i

"In case you want all of the details, I have just had the papers prepared in my office and I came here to get Miss Robb to sign them."

"We'll look around," Tragg said.

"Got a warrant?"

"That's right. Here it is."

"What are you looking for?" Mason asked.

"A murder weapon, in case you didn't know."

"Who's dead?" Mason asked.

Tragg smiled and shook his head.

"Now, you look here," Ellen Robb said, "you can't pin-"

"Shut up, Ellen," Mason said. "I'll do all the talking."

"That's what you think," Tragg told him. "You're leaving."

"Not until you've finished with the search," Mason said.

"Look around," Tragg told a plain-clothes man who was with him.

Tragg seated himself on the bed, looked from Mason to Ellen Robb. "It certainly is lucky finding you here. Let's take a look at those papers you say she just signed."

Mason opened his brief case, took out the signed copies, said, "Here you are, Lieutenant."

Lt. Tragg carefully inspected the signature of Ellen Robb. "It looks as though she had just signed it," he said. "Perhaps she did. I-"

"Lieutenant," the plain-clothes man said.

Tragg turned.

"This way," the plain-clothes man said.

Tragg stood, peering down at the revolver that had been uncovered in the suitcase.

"Well, well, well! What's this?" he asked.

"I don't know," Ellen Robb said. "It's a revolver that I found in my baggage when I left George Anclitas' place-you know, The Big Barn in Rowena."

"And when was that?"

"I left Tuesday night."

"And you noticed this in your things this morning?"

"Yes."

"And what did you do about it?"

"Let's not answer any questions about that gun right now," Mason said. "Let's wait until we know why Lieutenant Tragg is interested in the gun."

"I'm interested in it," Tragg said, "because it's a.38caliber Smith Sc Wesson revolver, and I want to know about it."

"My client found it in her baggage," Mason said. "She told me about it as soon as she discovered it. I advised her to leave it there."

"She didn't know anything at all about it, about where it came from or anything about it? It isn't her gun?"

"That's right. She just found it there. Someone evidently put that gun in her suitcase."

"How nice," Lt. Tragg said sarcastically. "How perfectly nice that Ellen Robb has an attorney representing her. What a happy coincidence that you were here."

"What's so important about the gun?" Mason asked.

"We'll tell you about that a little later," Tragg said.

"Well, let me give you a little advice," Mason told him. "Just so you don't stick your neck out too far, Tragg, don't make any statements about that gun until you know what you're talking about."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you'll find that gun has absolutely no significance whatever."

"What do you mean, no significance whatever?"

"Just what I said. I can't elaborate. I'm giving you a personal, friendly tip, Lieutenant."

"Thanks," Tragg said. "I could hardly hold down my job if it wasn't for your personal, friendly tips, Perry."

"This one may be a little more significant than you think at the moment."

"Why? What do you know?"

"Not very much as yet," Mason said. "But there is a chance I may know more than my client."

"Should you hold out on her that way?" Tragg asked sarcastically.

"It may be for the best interests of all concerned," Mason said.

Tragg said, "Miss Robb, would you mind letting me take your fingerprints so I can make a comparison with certain photographs?"

Ellen Robb looked questioningly at Perry Mason.

"Let him take your fingerprints," Mason said.

Tragg opened the bag he was carrying, took out a portable fingerprint outfit, took Ellen Robb's fingerprints, then studied them carefully with a magnifying glass.

He looked up at Ellen Robb, said, "You knew that Helman Ellis had a yacht that he called Cap's Eyes?"

She nodded.

"You've been aboard that yacht?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time?"

"Early Tuesday evening."

"What time?"

"I don't know. About… oh, I'd say along about dusk.''

"What were you doing aboard?"

"Looking 'for Mrs. Ellis."

"Did you find her?"