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"What are you going to do with Boring?"
"After I've seen Dia
"You mean the party is going to get rough?"
"I mean the party is going to get very rough."
"Can you handle him, Perry?"
"I can handle him. I never saw any blackmailer yet I couldn't handle. I'm going to put him in such a position that he'll consider himself a fugitive from justice, and if his conscience makes him resort to flight and concealment of his identity, I don't see how I can be expected to do anything about that."
"Certainly not," Drake said. "You'll be a paragon of righteous virtue. I'm on my way, Perry. I'll leave word in the office where I can be reached, but don't call me until I've wrapped myself around the outside of a steak and French fried potatoes."
"Better make it a baked potato," Mason said, "or you'll be eating bicarbonate again. Be good, Paul."
The lawyer hung up, looked at his watch, said, "I wish Dia
It was, however, twenty minutes later that there was a timid knock at the door of the suite.
Mason nodded to Della Street. "Dia
Della went over and opened the door.
Dia
"Come in, Dia
Dia
"Sit down," Mason said. "We have a nice steak coming up and you look to me as though you could use a drink."
"I could use two of them," she said.
"All in, eh?" Mason asked.
She nodded.
Mason said, "Look, Dia
"Yes."
"Now, you're in for a shock," Mason told her. "You're going to have some information which is going to hit you right where you live. -.. What do you want to drink?"
"Is brandy all right?"
"No," Mason said. "That's not the kind of a beforedi
"I don't think I want anything to eat."
Mason said, "What's the matter, Dia
"I… I wanted to see somebody."
"Who?"
"Mr. Boring."
"You knew he was up here?"
"Yes."
"How did you know?"
"Someone told me."
"Who?"
"A man who knows him very well. Someone he used to work for."
"Montrose Foster?"
"Yes."
"What else did Foster tell you?"
"That I've been a little fool, that Mr. Boring was just trying to take advantage of me and that the contract about using me for a model was all just eyewash; that what he really had in mind was something altogether different."
Mason regarded her thoughtfully, said, "Did he tell you what it was, Dia
"White slavery."
Mason crossed over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Dia
The telephone rang.
Mason nodded to Della Street, again turned to Dia
She started to cry.
Della Street, on the telephone, said, "I'll get him right away, Sid."
She nodded to Mason. "Sid Nye. Says it's important."
Mason hurried across to the telephone, picked up the instrument, said, "Yes, Sid. What is it?"
"I don't know," Nye said, "but I've had a call from Moose Dillard. It was a peculiar call."
"What was it?"
"He said, "Sid, do you know who is talking?" and I recognized his voice and said yes, and he said, "Hey Rube" and hung up."
"Just that?" Mason asked.
"Just that. Just Hey Rube. He worked for a circus at one time. You can figure what that means."
"Where are you now?"
"At the Tri-Counties."
"How long will it take you to get down to the front of the Mission I
"About two minutes."
"I'll be there," Mason said.
The lawyer hung up the telephone, turned to Della Street. "Della," he said, "tell Dia
"Two Martinis for Dia
Mason shifted his eyes to Dia
She met his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes.
Mason whirled to Della Street. "Not a damn one," he said, "and she's not to talk with anyone until I get back. Understand? Not anyone!"
Mason made a dash for the door.
CHAPTER TEN
Sid Nye picked Mason up in front of the Mission I
"What do you make of it, Sid?"
"It's a jam of some sort. Moose isn't one to lose his head in a situation of that kind. Evidently something's happened and he didn't dare say anything over the phone because the call probably went through the switchboard at the motel. He evidently wanted to use something that I'd understand and other people wouldn't. Moose is quite a character. He had a circus background and he knew I'd understand Hey Rube."
"That means a free-for-all fight?" Mason asked.
"Not exactly. It means that all the carnival people gather together against the outsiders. It may or may not mean a clem, but it means you start knocking anything or anybody out of your way and-well, it's just a good old rallying battle cry."
Nye was piloting the car with deft skill through the traffic.
"Then Dillard needs help?"
"He sure as hell does," Nye said. "It could be almost anything. It means he's in a hell of a jam and wants us to get there."
"Well," Mason said, "it suits me all right. I'm due to have a little talk with Harrison T. Boring as of now."
"It's a talk he'll like?" Nye asked, gri
Mason said, "It's a talk which will, I hope, give Mr. Boring an entirely new series of ideas and perhaps a complete change of environment."
Nye swung the car down a side street, suddenly slowed, said, "That's a police car in front of the place, Perry."
"What number is Dillard in?" Mason asked.
"Number 5."
"All right," Mason said, "drive right up to Number 5. if Dillard is in trouble, we'll be right there. If the police car is there for someone else, we'll pay no attention but go into Dillard's place."
Nye swung into the entrance of the motel, found a parking place, switched off headlights and ignition, looked to Mason for instructions.
"Right into Number 5," Mason said.
The lawyer and Nye converged on the door of Number5.
"Try the knob," Mason said in an undertone.
Nye was reaching for the knob when the door opened.
There were no lights on inside the unit. The big lumbering individual who hulked in the doorway said in a husky voice, "Come on in."
"No lights?" Nye asked.
"No lights," Dillard said, and closed the door behind them. "Don't stumble over anything. Your eyes'll get accustomed to the darkness in a minute. I'm sitting here at the window with the curtains parted so I can get a line on what's happening."
"What is happening?"
"I don't know. The police are there now, and the ambulance left just a few minutes ago."
"The ambulance?" Nye said.
"That's right. They took him away."
"Who? Boring?"
"Right."
Nye said, "You know Perry Mason, Moose."