background.”
“Okay, anything else?”
“Harriman Baylor of Lansing. A big-shot manufacturer. A daughter named Katherine and a son named Forrester. I want everything you can get on the family. Fern Driscoll worked for Baylor’s company in Lansing.”
“That’s all?”
“Carl Harrod of the Dixiecrat Apartments, 218. I want to know everything about his past.”
“How about the present?” Drake asked.
“There isn’t any,” Mason told him.
Drake looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“It’s all in the past,” Mason explained.
“Since when?”
“Probably about an hour ago.”
“All of this is going to take lots of men and lots of time,” Drake told him.“It’s going to take lots of men and probably lots of money, but it can’t take lots of time.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t have that much time.”
“Do the police know about Harrod?”
“Yes.”
“About your interest in him?”
“Hell yes!” Mason said. “I got caught standing in front of the apartment waiting for Dr. Arlington to come down and make a report.”
“Report on what?”
“Nature and extent of the injuries. He was stabbed with an ice pick.
The woman who was living with Harrod had already called headquarters before we got there and reported the death as a homicide. My friend, Sgt. Holcomb, caught me flat-footed.”
“So what happens next?” Drake asked.
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “I want all the information I can get before the going begins to get tough.”
“I take it there’s some sort of a tie-in by which all of these people are joined together, more or less?”
“There may be,” Mason said.
“Okay. Where are you going now?”
“Down to my office,” Mason told him. “You start getting information, relay it in as fast as you can get it. Minutes may be precious. We’re probably one jump ahead of the police on certain phases of the case and I’d like to keep ahead of them as far as possible.
“The Baylor family use the Vista del Camino Hotel as headquarters. They’re very shy about the wrong sort of publicity. Carl Harrod was all set to see that they got lots of it.
“Katherine Baylor is in town. She may be implicated in some way. On the other hand, the girl using the name of Fern Driscoll says she did the stabbing.”
“You don’t think this girl is really Fern Driscoll?”
“I know she’s Mildred Crest of Oceanside. Get busy and check everything.”
“Okay,” Drake said, “get down to your office and let me start pouring instructions into the telephone. I’ll have ten men on the job within ten minutes and each one of those men will put out more men if he has to.” Mason nodded to Della Street and they left Drake’s office, walked down the corridor to Mason’s office. Mason latch-keyed the door, switched on the lights.
“Well?” Della Street asked, as Mason hung up his hat and settled back into a swivel chair.
“We wait it out—for a while at least,” Mason said. “If our client is telling the truth, she was entirely within her rights in protecting herself.”
“And if she’s lying?”
“Then,” Mason admitted, “things could be in quite a mess.”
“She seems to have lied before.”
“Exactly. Those lies are going to put her in quite a spot if the breaks start going against her.
“As Mildred Crest, she could find herself charged with the murder of Fern Driscoll. All that background of deceit is going to make her a pushover in this Harrod case—if the authorities decide it’s murder.” They waited twenty minutes, then the unlisted phone rang sharply.
“I’ll take it,” Mason said. “It must be Paul Drake.” Mason picked up the receiver, said, “Hello, Paul.” Drake’s voice came over the wire. “Get either morning paper. You’ll find a picture of Harriman Baylor, the famous manufacturer and financial wizard, just getting off an airplane. He arrived late this afternoon. Reporters met him at the airport.”
“I’ll take a
“Okay, anything else?”
“Harriman Baylor of Lansing. A big-shot manufacturer. A daughter named Katherine and a son named Forrester. I want everything you can get on the family. Fern Driscoll worked for Baylor’s company in Lansing.”
“That’s all?”
“Carl Harrod of the Dixiecrat Apartments, 218. I want to know everything about his past.”
“How about the present?” Drake asked.
“There isn’t any,” Mason told him.
Drake looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“It’s all in the past,” Mason explained.
“Since when?”
“Probably about an hour ago.”
“All of this is going to take lots of men and lots of time,” Drake told him.“It’s going to take lots of men and probably lots of money, but it can’t take lots of time.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t have that much time.”
“Do the police know about Harrod?”
“Yes.”
“About your interest in him?”
“Hell yes!” Mason said. “I got caught standing in front of the apartment waiting for Dr. Arlington to come down and make a report.”
“Report on what?”
“Nature and extent of the injuries. He was stabbed with an ice pick.
The woman who was living with Harrod had already called headquarters before we got there and reported the death as a homicide. My friend, Sgt. Holcomb, caught me flat-footed.”
“So what happens next?” Drake asked.
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “I want all the information I can get before the going begins to get tough.”
“I take it there’s some sort of a tie-in by which all of these people are joined together, more or less?”
“There may be,” Mason said.
“Okay. Where are you going now?”
“Down to my office,” Mason told him. “You start getting information, relay it in as fast as you can get it. Minutes may be precious. We’re probably one jump ahead of the police on certain phases of the case and I’d like to keep ahead of them as far as possible.
“The Baylor family use the Vista del Camino Hotel as headquarters. They’re very shy about the wrong sort of publicity. Carl Harrod was all set to see that they got lots of it.
“Katherine Baylor is in town. She may be implicated in some way. On the other hand, the girl using the name of Fern Driscoll says she did the stabbing.”
“You don’t think this girl is really Fern Driscoll?”
“I know she’s Mildred Crest of Oceanside. Get busy and check everything.”
“Okay,” Drake said, “get down to your office and let me start pouring instructions into the telephone. I’ll have ten men on the job within ten minutes and each one of those men will put out more men if he has to.” Mason nodded to Della Street and they left Drake’s office, walked down the corridor to Mason’s office. Mason latch-keyed the door, switched on the lights.
“Well?” Della Street asked, as Mason hung up his hat and settled back into a swivel chair.
“We wait it out—for a while at least,” Mason said. “If our client is telling the truth, she was entirely within her rights in protecting herself.”
“And if she’s lying?”
“Then,” Mason admitted, “things could be in quite a mess.”
“She seems to have lied before.”
“Exactly. Those lies are going to put her in quite a spot if the breaks start going against her.
“As Mildred Crest, she could find herself charged with the murder of Fern Driscoll. All that background of deceit is going to make her a pushover in this Harrod case—if the authorities decide it’s murder.” They waited twenty minutes, then the unlisted phone rang sharply.
“I’ll take it,” Mason said. “It must be Paul Drake.” Mason picked up the receiver, said, “Hello, Paul.” Drake’s voice came over the wire. “Get either morning paper. You’ll find a picture of Harriman Baylor, the famous manufacturer and financial wizard, just getting off an airplane. He arrived late this afternoon. Reporters met him at the airport.”
“I’ll take a
Similar Books
