The Case of the Fenced-In Woman by Erle Stanley Gardner

telephone was concerned?"
    "He simply hung up and at that time he told me my husband had been murdered."
    "And you dropped the groceries?"
    "That's right."
    "You picked them up?"
    "Yes."
    "And where did you put them?"
    "In the kitchen."
    "Well, if it's all right with you, we'll take a look in the kitchen," Tragg said. "And, by the way, where did you buy the groceries?"
    "At the supermarket."
    "The one near the top of the hill?"
    "No, that's a rather small market. I said the supermarket,"
    "Oh yes, and where was that?"
    "That's down in Hollywood."
    "You have the ticket?"
    "Oh yes, I have the ticket from the adding machine."
    "That's fine," Tragg said. "Those tickets are usually numbered and we can find out a lot about the time you were there by checking the number on the ticket and checking with the records of the cash register. Now if you'll just lead the way, please."
    Vivian Carson went into the kitchen. Tragg's eye caught the groceries piled on the sink.
    "Four bags of groceries," he said. "Four big bags."
    "Yes."
    "Now let's see," Tragg said, "since Mason was in the house when you arrived and since you dropped two bags of groceries, those must have been the first two – bags. Then you returned and got the second two bags and…?"
    "Mr. Mason got the second two bags for me."
    "Oh," Tragg said. "I should have realized Mason would be very considerate. And where were you while he was getting the groceries? Did you perhaps go to the living room or open the door a crack so you could peek in and see what was happening?"
    "No. I simply collapsed. I sat in that chair until after Mr. Mason returned."
    Tragg's eye roving around the kitchen caught the knife rack.
    "Now here's an interesting situation," he said. "A knife rack with all sorts of knives attached to it by a magnetic bar-since the murder was committed with a knife… You'll pardon me, Mrs. Carson, if I make an inspection."
    Tragg stepped over to the knife rack.
    "You can see," she said, "that they're all there."
    "I can, I can indeed," Tragg said. "At least they seem to be all here. All evenly spaced and… What's this?"
    Tragg reached up and removed a wooden – handled butcher knife from the rack.
    "Just one of the knives," she said.
    "Well now, is it?" Tragg asked, turning it over in his hand thoughtfully. "It's a knife all right, but it seems to have been unused. It has a price in crayon written on the blade, three dollars and twenty cents."
    She said, "I just moved in you know, Lieutenant. I've only been here a short time. I haven't had a chance to get fully provisioned and I-"
    "But you've been here since-since when?"
    "Since Sunday. I moved in Sunday. We put the fence in Saturday afternoon and I moved in Sunday morning."
    "All this time and haven't had occasion to look at the knives," Tragg said. "By any chance, Mrs. Carson, while you were out shopping you didn't deliberately buy a knife that would replace the one that had been plunged into your husband, did you?"
    Vivian Carson started to answer the question, then suddenly stopped and caught herself. "I… I…"
    Mason interposed smoothly, "You don't have to answer Lieutenant Tragg's question, you know, Mrs. Carson."
    Tragg turned to regard Mason with considerable displeasure. "And we don't have to have your company here, Mr. Mason," he said. "You've performed the introductions, you've served your purpose here. Now you just don't need to bother to hang around. Mrs. Carson and I are going to get along perfectly."
    "I believe it is Mrs. Carson's house," Mason said. "I think she can decide who she wants to have present."
    "That's not the way you were talking a moment ago," Tragg said. "You thought it was Morley Eden's house and, as I remember it, there's a restraining order preventing anyone from coming on these premises and as an officer of the law I might have to forcibly eject you, Mason. You wouldn't want to be put in the position of resisting an officer-and furthermore, I could take Mrs. Carson up to headquarters