There was silence for a few moments. Then Mason said, “That ink-stained, torn playsuit is a clue.”
“What about it?”
“I have a theory on it.”
“Mrs. Caddo?”
“Could be.”
“Want us to do anything there, Perry?”
“No, not yet, anyway. I’m going to have a talk with Dolores Caddo, just for the fun of the thing.”
“If you can get any fun out of that,” Drake said, “go to it.”
“You have Caddo’s home address, Della?” Mason asked abruptly.
She nodded.
“You’ve made a complete check on Ralph Endicott?” Mason asked.
“His story checks absolutely,” Drake said.
Mason said, “I hate to dismiss him from the list of suspects, but I guess we’ll have to. My own hunch is that the murder was committed right on the dot of eleven-forty. That’s the time we telephoned and someone lifted the receiver off the hook.”
Drake said, “Well, so far they can’t prove that anyone has wiped fingerprints off the telephone receiver, Perry.”
“That’s so far,” Mason said grimly. “Only my prints were on that receiver. That makes it look as if I’d tried to save my client by wiping her prints off the receiver and when I did that, I wiped the murderer’s prints off.”
“Some people would think it looked that way,” Drake said tonelessly.
“I didn’t do it, Paul.”
Drake raised his eyebrows.
“Marilyn did it,” Della said.
Drake’s face showed relief. “That’ll let you out, then, Perry. Gosh, I was worried. The minute Tragg can show the murderer must have picked up the receiver at eleven-forty, that Marilyn telephoned you around twelve-ten and that you phoned the police, but that only your prints were on the receiver—well, that gives him quite a case against you, Perry. It’s pretty strong circumstantial evidence that you sent Marilyn home and tried to save her by wiping her prints off the telephone receiver. But if you and Della can both swear Marilyn did that, it’ll put you off the spot.”
“We can’t swear that, Paul.”
“I thought you said you could.”
“We can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to our client.”
“If you don’t, it won’t be fair to you.”
“If we do, it’ll just about clinch the case against her. We have to protect our client.”
“Not to the extent of taking blame yourself, Perry! Surely you don’t have to go that far.”
“Hell,” Mason said, “I go all the way for a client, Paul, and now I’m going to try to start a family fight in the Caddo family. This should be good.”
15
Some five minutes after Mason had rung the doorbell for the first time, Robert Caddo came shuffling down the corridor and opened the door.
A heavy woolen bathrobe was thrown around his shoulders. Beneath the robe, his legs showed in striped pajamas. His feet were encased in soft leather slippers. His hair, left long and trained to cover as much of the baldness of his head as possible, now hung down over one ear and gave him a ludicrous, lopsided appearance. There were sleep puffs under his eyes and a slightly dazed expression on his face.
“Hello,” Mason said. “I want to come in.”
Caddo said, “You … why, what’s happened?”
“Plenty,” Mason said, and pushed his way past Caddo.
The house was cold, with the chill of midnight. The windows had been opened for ventilation.
Caddo switched on lights, went around lowering windows and pulling shades. Mason found the button which controlled the gas furnace and turned it on.
“It’s cold in here,” Caddo said. “I’m shivering.”
“Perhaps you need a drink,” Mason told him.
Mrs. Caddo’s voice, from an upstairs bedroom, called, “Who is it, Bob?”
“Mr. Mason, the lawyer,” Caddo said. “You were at his office earlier today.”
Bare feet thudded on the upstairs floor. Then, after a moment, there was the sound of light, quick steps in house slippers, and Dolores Caddo, a robe wrapped rather tightly around her, glided into the room.
“Hello,” she said to Mason, and smiled, then embellished the smile with a quick wink. “I’m sorry for what I did today.”
Mason said, “Just what did you do today?”
“You know what I mean, calling at your office and making a scene.” And again she winked at him, then added hastily, “Bob says he saw you right afterwards and that he’s going to make things right with you. I told him not to squander his money—our money—because the hurt was mainly to your dignity. I hope you’ll be a good sport about it.”
“What other places did you go today?”
Caddo said, “After all, Mr. Mason, this is a very disagreeable subject. Can’t we? …”
“No,” Mason said. “I want to know where she went.”
She said gleefully, “I went to see Marilyn Marlow. I couldn’t find her. I had to put her on my list for tomorrow, but I saw Rose Keeling.”
“What time?”
“Right around eleven-thirty.”
“Throw any ink?”
She said grimly, “Believe me, that little tart will keep grub hooks off a married man in the future. I went places with her.”
“At what time?” Mason asked.
“Around eleven-thirty. It took me a little time to find her. I wasted some time trying to get Marilyn Marlow located, but Bob’s dear friend, Miss Marlow, was hiding out.”
“I tell you, my love, that it was only a business matter. Purely a business matter!” Caddo said desperately. “And if you had given Mr. Mason a chance to explain, he would have told you that. As a matter of fact, I never even saw Rose Keeling in my life.”
“Well, I saw her,” his wife said, “and, believe me, I put the fear of God into her.”
“What was she doing when you got there?” Mason asked.
“Dolling herself up for a tennis game. She had on one of those leg-showing suits, a nice, flimsy little thing. Well, I fixed that! I ripped it down the back and said, ‘Why not show ’em all of you, dearie? Why just tease them?’ And then I took my fountain pen and snapped ink all over her.”
“My love, you didn’t!” Caddo said, his voice filled with dismay.
“I certainly did!” his wife said. “And any time you think you’re going to cut corners, just remember one thing. I’ll find out about it sooner or later, and when I do, I’m going to make a scene that will teach people a married man isn’t fair game.”
“But, my love! This was a business matter. I could have made a lot of money out of it.”
“How?” Mason asked.
Caddo said, “Well, I …” He stopped abruptly, his sentence unfinished.
Dolores said, “Don’t think you can get your lawyer to front for you. Have I got to start getting rough all over again?”
Mason said, “I’m interested in what happened with Rose Keeling.”
“Well, suppose you go ask Rose Keeling. She should have a very vivid recollection of what happened.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t.”
“You mean she’s skipped out?”
“Rose Keeling,” Mason said, “is no longer with us. She was murdered at approximately eleven-forty this morning.”
In the silence that followed, the little noises made by the gas furnace as the metal of the heating system expanded in the growing heat sounded as clear as pistol shots.
Robert Caddo said sharply, “Damn it, Dolores, I told you that one of these days your temper would get the best of you! Now you’ve really done it.”
“Shut up,” she said.
Mason said, “Perhaps if you’d tell me more about your visit with Rose Keeling …”
“Phooey,” she said. “What are you trying to do, pin a murder charge on me?”
Mason said, “I have reason to believe that the murderer must have entered the place very shortly after you left.”
She said, “Wait a mi
nute. Where do you fit into this picture?”
Mason said, “I’m trying to investigate …”
“You’re interested in finding out about the murder?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mason said, “I’m an attorney. I’m trying to clear it up.”
She said, “You’re an attorney and you’re representing someone. When you started in on this case, you were representing my husband. Bob, you haven’t asked Mason to do anything about the murder, have you?”
Caddo shook his head, but said, “Really, my love, this is serious. Mr. Mason is one of the best lawyers and …”
“And Mason is representing someone right now,” Dolores said. “He’s trying to pin something on me so he can protect someone else.”
“But, my love, you admitted you were there,” Caddo said.
“Well, he’s juggling things around so that it makes it appear that the murder was committed right at the time I was there…. What kind of monkey business is this, anyway?”
Mason said, “I’m simply trying to get the facts, that’s all. You didn’t kill her, did you?”
“Phooey,” she said. “I threw ink on her and tore off a few of her clothes and then I tried to give her a good spanking, but she got away from me and ran into the bathroom and locked herself in. … I think, Bob, we won’t do any more talking.”
Mason said, “It would be of considerable assistance if you would tell me …”
“Well, I won’t!” Dolores Caddo said.
“If I could apprehend the real murderer, it would keep some innocent person from being falsely accused.”
“Yes, I know,” Dolores said. “But suppose you get bighearted about this other person and try to pin things on me?”
“You’ve already said you were there, my love,” Caddo said in a panic. “You’d better go ahead and explain now. Otherwise Mason will go to the police.”
“Let him go to the police,” Dolores said.
“I can, you know,” Mason told her.
“Phooey!”
“I mean it.”
“There’s a phone. Go to it.”
Mason walked over to the telephone, said, “It suits me just as well this way as the other.”
He picked up the receiver, dialed police headquarters, asked for the Homicide Department and wanted to know who was in charge.
“Who is talking?” a voice asked.
“Perry Mason.”
“Wait a minute. Lieutenant Tragg just dropped in. I’ll put him on.”
Mason heard Tragg’s voice saying, “Yes, Mason, what is it?”
“You must be working overtime.”
“I am—thanks to you.”
Mason said, “Perhaps I can give you a real break this time.”
“Your breaks aren’t the kind we’re looking for.”
“This one is,” Mason said. “I’m talking from the home of Robert Caddo, who runs the Lonely Lovers Publications, Inc., and puts out a magazine entitled ‘Lonely Hearts Are Calling.’ He …”
“I know all about him,” Tragg said. “The rackets department had him up once or twice.”
Mason said, “Robert Caddo had been interested in Rose Keeling. Dolores Caddo found out about it. She went to Rose Keeling’s flat at eleven-thirty and, according to her own statement, beat up one Rose Keeling and threw some ink around. Rose Keeling shut herself in the bathroom. Dolores says she isn’t doing any more talking. Are you interested?”
Tragg’s voice showed eagerness. “Where are you?”
“At Caddo’s residence.”
“This isn’t some frame-up, trying to spring your client?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I’m coming right down,” Tragg said. “Hold everything.”
He slammed down the phone. Mason dropped the receiver into place.
“Well?” Dolores Caddo said.
Mason said, “Lieutenant Tragg was somewhat skeptical.”
“Probably thinks you’re trying to get some of your clients out of trouble.”
“Perhaps.”
“What’s he going to do?” Caddo asked.
“We’ll have to let subsequent events determine that.”
Mrs. Caddo said, “Well, mix a drink, Bob. We don’t have to neglect the social amenities just because this lawyer is trying to pin a murder on me.”
“I wish you’d talk frankly to us, my love,” Caddo said, his voice sharp with anxiety. “You know, love, you have this ungovernable temper and …”
“Why, if you aren’t joining the procession!” Dolores said. “Don’t think you can get rid of me and have that Marlow woman by pinning a murder on me. You two-timing buzzard! I want a Scotch and soda. And get some of that good Scotch. Don’t use any more of that prune-juice combination.”
“But, my love, if you were there and …”
“Get that drink!”
“My love, won’t you please …”
“All right,” she said, “I’ll get it myself,” and started for the kitchen.
Caddo said in a low voice to Mason, “Look here, Mr. Mason, can’t we square this somehow?”
“I’d like to have your wife tell exactly what happened,” Mason said, “I think it’s the best way to …”
“Bob!” Dolores called angrily. “What have you done with that Scotch?”
“Just a moment, my love. Just a moment, just a moment,” Caddo said, and with ludicrous haste ran toward the kitchen, the bathrobe trailing out behind him.
A few moments later he was back. “Just why did you come here, Mr. Mason?”
“I wanted to get the facts.”
“But you must have had some way of knowing that Dolores was there. There must have been something …”
“Well, there was.”
“What was it?”
Mason shrugged his shoulders and said, “What difference does it make? She says she was there. I found the evidence. The police will find the evidence.”
Caddo walked over to stand on the register, which was how spewing out heat from the gas furnace. The hot air billowed the bathrobe into flapping motion.
“Well,” Mason said at length, “what do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know,” Caddo said.
Mrs. Caddo brought in a tray with glasses, put the tray in front of Mason and said, “Take your pick, just so you’ll know that you’re not being poisoned.”
Mason picked the middle glass.
Dolores took the tray over to her husband, then took the remaining drink, placed the tray on the table, and sat down.
They sipped their drinks for a few moments in silence.
Caddo started to say something. His wife frowned him into silence.
The sound of a siren cut through the night. The scream descended into a low-throated growl and a car slid to a stop in front of the house.
“Let the police in, darling,” Dolores said to her husband.
“Yes, my love,” he said meekly, and went down the corridor and opened the front door.
Lieutenant Tragg and a plainclothes man came pushing into the room.
“Hello, Mason,” Tragg said. “What’s this all about?”
Mason said, “This is Dolores Caddo, Lieutenant Tragg, and her husband, Robert Caddo.”
Tragg pushed his hat over on the back of his head, said, “What’s this about Dolores Caddo going to see Rose Keeling?”
Dolores sipped her drink and said, “Damned if I know. It’s an idea Mason had. He thought he could make it stick.”
Mason said, “Dolores Caddo is inclined to have fits of temper whenever her husband has been philandering. She thought he had been seeing Rose Keeling. Mrs. Caddo called at my office earlier in the day and said she was on her way out to see Marilyn Marlow and Rose Keeling and that she intended to make something of a scene. Naturally, I called to ask her what had happened.”
“Go on,” Tragg said.
Mason said, “She has just admitted to both of us that she had been in R
ose Keeling’s flat about eleven-thirty, that she had distributed a little ink around, torn Rose Keeling’s clothes, and tried to administer a spanking. Miss Keeling broke away from her, got into the bathroom and locked herself in. So Mrs. Caddo went out.”
“And the time?” Tragg asked, eyes glinting.
“Eleven-thirty,” Mason said.
Tragg turned to Mrs. Caddo. “What about it?”
Dolores Caddo looked at her husband with wide-eyed astonishment. “I’ll be a dirty name,” she said.
“What about it?” Tragg repeated.
“That’s the wildest fairy tale I ever heard,” Dolores Caddo said.
“Didn’t you see Rose Keeling?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never seen her in my life.”
Tragg looked at Mason.
Dolores Caddo turned to her husband. “What about Rose Keeling, honey? Do you know her?”
“I have never seen her,” Caddo said, running his tongue along the line of his lips.
“Mrs. Caddo,” Mason said dryly, “is given to throwing ink in her fits of temper. Is that right, Mrs. Caddo?”
She said to Lieutenant Tragg, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’re the law. You’d ought to see that we get a square deal.”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Tragg said. “Then I’ll see what can be done.”
She said, “I went to call on Mr. Mason this morning. I had a talk with him. Shortly after I left, my husband went there. He said at that time Mason told him I’d thrown ink all over his office. Mason had smeared some ink on his face to make it look natural and apparently had put some scratches on his face with lipstick. I’d never touched him; I was a perfect lady.
“Then tonight Mason came down here and accused me of having gone to see Rose Keeling. I told him I’d never seen her in my life. He walked over to the telephone and called police headquarters and told you that fairy story. I can’t figure it out.”
“You hadn’t told him you had seen Rose Keeling?”
She shook her head.
“You’re certain?”
She nodded.
Robert Caddo cleared his throat. “I was here all the time, Lieutenant. She certainly never said anything like that!”
“You were both together here?”
“That’s right. Mason rang the bell and got us up out of bed. He said he wanted to talk with us. We mixed a drink and Mason accused my wife of having gone to see Rose Keeling. She said she didn’t even know Rose Keeling. Then Mason went over and called you up.”
The Case of the Lonely Heiress Page 15