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 innocence.
"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?"
"No one was aboard. I heard that she and her husband were going on a cruise. I wanted to catch her before they left."
"Why were you so anxious to see her?"
"I wanted to talk with her."
"What about?"
"About various things. About… well, frankly, because I wanted to discuss her husband with her."
"Why should you be discussing her husband with her?"
"I think she had become jealous of me."
"Why?"
"I worked at The Big Barn, and her husband, Helman, spent some time there."
"And you talked with him?"
"At The Barn?"
"Yes."
"Of course I talked with him. That was part of my job, to keep the customers feeling good."
"And Mrs. Ellis resented that?"
"Frankly, I don't know. I heard she was jealous and I wanted to see her."
"Why?"
"I wanted to tell her there was absolutely no ground for any jealousy whatever."
"So you went aboard the yacht?"
"Yes."
"And you had this gun with you?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. Definitely not. That was before the gun was put in my bag."
"How do you know?"
"Well, I… well, I'll say this. That was before I discovered the gun in my bag."
"That's better. You don't know when it was put there?"
"Not definitely, no."
"And you left The Big Barn that night?"
"Later on, yes."
"And you didn't see Mrs. Ellis on the yacht?"
"No."
"Did you see Mr. Ellis that night?"
"I saw him later, shortly before the trouble with George Anclitas."
"Did you tell him you were looking for his wife?"
"He told me his wife had been looking for me, and I told him that there was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous, at least as far as I was concerned."
"And what did Helman tell you?"
"He said his wife got these unreasoning spells of jealousy, and when she did, that you couldn't reason with her or anything. He said that he had been planning on going on a cruise with her but that she'd taken the skiff and gone ashore and left him marooned on the boat."
"And when was that?"
"That was Tuesday night."
"Did you also talk with him last night?"
"Now, just a minute," Mason said. "I think this questioning has gone far enough, Lieutenant."
"Okay," Lt. Tragg said rather cheerfully. "I just want to ask Miss Robb one question. Did you at any time ever enter t
he cabin of Ellis' yacht, the Cap's Eyes?"
"At any time?"
"At any time."
"No."
"You knew the yacht?"
"Yes."
"You'd been aboard it?"
"Well… yes, I went aboard once with Helman, when he was showing me around."
"Did you go in the cabin then?"
"I… I may have."
"When was that?"
"Oh, some time ago."
"How long ago?"
"Two weeks ago."
"Did you kill Nadine Ellis while you were on that yacht?"
"Did I kill Nadine Ellis? What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about murder," Tragg said. "Did you see her Wednesday and kill her?"
"Good heavens no! I didn't- Why? Is she- You mean she's been-?"
Mason said, "Now, I'm going to give you some instructions, Ellen. Don't answer any more questions. You have given Lieutenant Tragg a very fair, straight and direct statement. There is no reason for Lieutenant Tragg to browbeat you, bully you, cross-examine you or try to give you a third-degree. If, however, Lieutenant Tragg wants you to accompany him, do so. But don't make any statement under any circumstances. Don't say one more word about this case or about your relations with George Anclitas, about the suit that I'm going to file or about anything, unless I am present and instruct you to make a statement."
"All right, Mason," Tragg said. "You've spoken your piece. You can leave now. There was a chance we might have been able to get an explanation which would have prevented a lot of notoriety for Miss Robb. But in view of your instructions to her, she's going to have to come to Headquarters."
"That's fine," Mason said. "She'll go to Headquarters-How long are you going to hold her there?"
"Probably until we can have some test bullets fired from this gun," Tragg said, "and have the test bullets compared by the ballistics department with the fatal bullets which killed Mrs. Ellis."
"Go right ahead," Mason said. "Accompany him, Miss Robb. Make no statement to newspaper reporters. Don't talk to anyone. Simply clam up and keep quiet. You've made your statement. Now then, when Lieutenant Tragg tells you that you can leave, get in touch with me at once."
"You mean if," Tragg said, "not when."
Mason grinned. "Once more, Lieutenant, you have failed to understand me. I mean when. I said when and I meant when."
CHAPTER NINE
Mason, pacing the floor of his office, made comments from time to time to an attentive Della Street.
Della, knowing that the lawyer was simply thinking out loud, used her knowledge of his character to facilitate the thought processes. At times she would nod her head, at times listen with rapt attention, and at times interpose some shrewd question.
Mason, pacing back and forth, said, "That probably explains why they didn't make any commotion about the gun."
"Who?" Della Street asked.
"George Anclitas," Mason said. "He was framing a crime on Ellen Robb, all right, but it wasn't anything simple like the crime of stealing a gun."
"Then he must have known a murder had been committed?"
"Yes."
"How would he have known that?"
"There's only one way," Mason said. "He must have killed her. He must have killed her with that gun and then planted that gun in Ellen Robb's suitcase."
"Then Mrs. Ellis was killed before the gun ever came into Ellen's possession?"
"That has to be it," Mason said, and resumed pacing the floor.
After a moment Della Street ventured an inquiry. "Where does that leave us?" she asked.
Mason stopped abruptly in his pacing, snapped his fingers and said, "Damn!"
Della Street raised her eyebrows.
"I hadn't thought of it from that angle," Mason said. "I've been too busy trying to unscramble what must have happened in connection with the murder so I could protect my client's interests."
"You're thinking of it from that angle now?" Della Street asked.
"I'm thinking of it from that angle now," Mason said, "and I don't like what I'm thinking."
"Why?"
"As long as the gun was simply an article of stolen property, we had every right in the world to restore it to its rightful owner and we could do that by returning it to his place of business, but if that gun becomes a valuable piece of evidence… "
Mason broke off and resumed pacing the floor, his eyes level-lidded with concentration.
"Isn't it our duty to report any evidence to the police?" Della Street asked.
Mason nodded, then said tersely, "It's also our duty to protect our client."
"But if the evidence came into her possession after the crime had been committed… "
"Suppose they don't believe that, Della?"
"Then, of course… " It was Della Street's turn to break off in the middle of a sentence and start thinking.
"Exactly," Mason said. "It puts us in the devil of a predicament."
"Can I take the sole responsibility?" Della Street asked. "After all, I was the one who took the gun back."
"You were acting under my orders," Mason said. "Don't be silly. I was taking the responsibility, and if there's any responsibility I take it all-all, you understand?"
"The facts," she said, "speak for themselves. I took the gun back."
Mason said, "I take the responsibility. Now, just remember that. Don't try to get yourself involved in this thing out of a sense of loyalty. Hang it! The trouble is I don't know… suppose she isn't telling the truth?"
"Who?"
"Our client," Mason said.
"She could be lying?" Della asked.
"Of course she could be lying," Mason said. "And she's just the type who would lie. She's a young woman who has sharpened her wits against the seamy side of life. She knows her way around and she's doubtless learned that everyone must look out for himself. That's the code of the society in which she's been living."
Della Street said, "Then she would have stolen the gun from The Big Barn, gone aboard the yacht, only instead of not finding anybody aboard, she had a session with Nadine Ellis and killed her. Then she came here and handed you the gun, telling you her story about having found it in her baggage."
"That's right," Mason said.
"And at that very time Mrs. Ellis must have been lying dead on the yacht."
"In that case," Mason asked, "how did the yacht get out there beyond Catalina Island?"
Della Street gave his question thoughtful consideration. "The yacht was safely moored in the harbor after you switched guns?"
Mason grinned. "It must have been," he said, "and that fact is going to give Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, and Lieutenant Arthur Tragg of Homicide, a terrific jolt. That fact, Della, puts our client in the clear and puts us in the clear."
"Just how will the D.A.'s office get jolted?" Della Street asked.
"Finding a gun in Ellen Robb's possession, thinking that it's the murder weapon, getting everything all built up, turning the fatal bullets over to the ballistic department and then finding that they didn't come from that gun at all."
"In that event, what gun did they come from?" Della Street asked.
Mason stroked the angle of his jaw with the tips of his fingers. "I wish I knew the answer to that," he said. "It doesn't seem possible that the bullets could have come from the gun that we returned to The Big Barn… but if they did… if they did, we're in one hell of a predicament, Della."
"What would we have to do?"
"I'm darned if I know," Mason said. "If I keep quiet I'm perhaps compounding a felony, perhaps making myself an accessory after the fact-to use a legal expression-in a murder case."
"And if you go to the police and tell them the story?"
"If I go to the police and tell them the story," Mason said, "they won't believe me. They'll think I am simply trying to work some elaborate scheme to trap the police and throw the prosecution off the track. And in any event I'd still be in a jam, this time for betrayin
g the interests of a client."
"Are you honor bound to keep all the facts in connection with her case confidential?"
"Probably not," Mason said. "Strictly speaking, a privileged communication is rather limited. A lawyer is technically only entitled to protect the confidences of his client within a very limited field. The confidences are those that are given to the attorney in order to enable him to represent the interests of his client.
"That's the narrow, technical rule. Practically, by both usage and custom, the rule has been expanded. I know as far as I'm concerned, I'd rather have my hand cut off than betray the interests of a client. If I'm representing a client, I want the representation to be honest, loyal and efficient. I make it a point to believe everything my client tells me and to act accordingly in order to protect the best interests of that client."
"Yet you recognize there's a possibility the client may lie?"
"I recognize the possibility the client may lie," Mason said.
"Well," Della Street said, "as I see it, there's nothing to be done until the police get a report from the ballistics department on those bullets."
"That's right," Mason said. "After they find out that the bullets that killed Mrs. Ellis didn't come from that gun, then the question is, did they come from the gun we took from Ellen Robb? If they didn't, we're in the clear. If they did, then we're right slap-bang behind the eight ball."
"We can find out?" Della Street asked.
"We can find out," Mason said, "because fortunately I had Paul Drake get a ballistics expert to fire test bullets from the gun. We have those test bullets. Paul Drake can get photographs of the fatal bullets, and we can compare the striations. That's not the best way of making a comparison, but it will do under the circumstances. We can reach a pretty fair opinion. In other words, if the test bullets don't match the fatal bullets, we can tell. If they do, we can't be absolutely certain. But if we get enough lines of striation in the photograph, we'll know that there's a very good possibility the fatal bullets were fired from that gun."
"And then?" Della Street asked.
"Then we'll cross that bridge," Mason said. "We should be hearing from Paul any-"
Drake's code knock sounded on the door. Mason nodded to Della Street, who opened the door and let Paul Drake in.
Mason, standing in the middle of the office floor where he had paused mid-stride when Drake knocked on the door, nodded to the detective, said, "What's new, Paul?"
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