come in the Buick," she said.
"Why not?" he asked.
"The police have sealed it up. They've locked the transmission and padlocked the wheels."
Perry Mason gave a low whistle over the telephone.
"In that event," he said, "you'd better get in the Packard and come here just as fast as you can. You'd better grab a suitcase and put some clothes in it, but do it without attracting too much attention."
"I'll be in in twenty minutes," she said, and hung up.
Perry Mason put on his hat, and paused for a moment to talk with Della Street as he went out.
"I'm expecting Miss Celane in here," he said, "in about twenty or twenty-five minutes, and I think I'll be back by the time she arrives. But if I'm not, I want you to put her in my private office and lock the door. Don't let anyone in. Do you understand?"
She looked up at him, swiftly apprehensive, and nodded her head in a gesture of affirmation. "Has anything gone wrong?" she asked.
He nodded curtly, then smiled and patted her shoulder.
He walked out of the door, took the elevator down, and walked a block and a half to the Seaboard Second National Trust Company.
B.W. Rayburn, vice president of the bank, regarded Perry Mason with hard, watchful eyes, and said: "Yes, Mr. Mason?"
"I'm representing Miss Frances Celane, the beneficiary under a trust fund which was administered by Edward Norton," said Mason. "Also, I'm representing Mr. Arthur Crinston, who is the surviving partner of Crinston & Norton."
"Yes," said Mr. Rayburn. "So I understand from a conversation I had this morning with Mr. Crinston."
"On the day of his death," said Mason, "Mr. Norton made a trip from his home to a bank and back again. I am wondering if the trip was to this bank, or to the Farmers and Merchants National, where I understand he also had an account."
"No," said Rayburn slowly, "he came here. Why do you ask?"
"I understand," said Mason, "he came here to secure a large sum of money in one thousand dollar bills. I am anxious to know if there was anything peculiar about his request for that money, or anything peculiar about the bills."
"Perhaps," said Rayburn significantly, "if you could be a little more explicit, I could give you the information you wanted."
"Did Mr. Norton," asked the lawyer, "say specifically for what purpose he wanted those bills?"
"Not specifically," said Rayburn, with the secretive manner of one who is determined only to answer direct questions.
Mason took a deep breath.
"Did he ask you in advance," he said, "to get for him a certain number of thousand dollar bills bearing consecutive serial numbers?"
"He did," said the vice president of the bank.
"And did he further state to you that, through your banking affiliations, he would like very much to have you make note of the numbers of those bills and ascertain when the bills were presented for deposit at any bank in the city?"
"Not exactly in those words," said Rayburn cautiously.
"Did he state that he intended to use that money to make a payment to a blackmailer, and would like to find out the identity of the person who deposited the currency?"
"Not in exactly those words," said the banker again.
"I think," said Perry Mason, smiling, "that I have all of the information I can ask you to give me, and sufficient for my purpose. Thank you, Mr. Rayburn."
He turned and walked from the bank, leaving behind him a cold-eyed individual who surveyed his back in a gaze of shrewd speculation.
Mason returned to his office and beckoned Della Street to his inner office.
"Get Drake's Detective Bureau for me," he said, "and say that I want Paul Drake, himself, to handle a matter of utmost importance. Say that I want Drake to come to my office posing as a client, and that I want him to wait in the reception room until I give him a line on what he's to do. During the time he's waiting, he is to appear merely as a client."
She looked at him with eyes that showed grave apprehension.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"That's all," he told
"Why not?" he asked.
"The police have sealed it up. They've locked the transmission and padlocked the wheels."
Perry Mason gave a low whistle over the telephone.
"In that event," he said, "you'd better get in the Packard and come here just as fast as you can. You'd better grab a suitcase and put some clothes in it, but do it without attracting too much attention."
"I'll be in in twenty minutes," she said, and hung up.
Perry Mason put on his hat, and paused for a moment to talk with Della Street as he went out.
"I'm expecting Miss Celane in here," he said, "in about twenty or twenty-five minutes, and I think I'll be back by the time she arrives. But if I'm not, I want you to put her in my private office and lock the door. Don't let anyone in. Do you understand?"
She looked up at him, swiftly apprehensive, and nodded her head in a gesture of affirmation. "Has anything gone wrong?" she asked.
He nodded curtly, then smiled and patted her shoulder.
He walked out of the door, took the elevator down, and walked a block and a half to the Seaboard Second National Trust Company.
B.W. Rayburn, vice president of the bank, regarded Perry Mason with hard, watchful eyes, and said: "Yes, Mr. Mason?"
"I'm representing Miss Frances Celane, the beneficiary under a trust fund which was administered by Edward Norton," said Mason. "Also, I'm representing Mr. Arthur Crinston, who is the surviving partner of Crinston & Norton."
"Yes," said Mr. Rayburn. "So I understand from a conversation I had this morning with Mr. Crinston."
"On the day of his death," said Mason, "Mr. Norton made a trip from his home to a bank and back again. I am wondering if the trip was to this bank, or to the Farmers and Merchants National, where I understand he also had an account."
"No," said Rayburn slowly, "he came here. Why do you ask?"
"I understand," said Mason, "he came here to secure a large sum of money in one thousand dollar bills. I am anxious to know if there was anything peculiar about his request for that money, or anything peculiar about the bills."
"Perhaps," said Rayburn significantly, "if you could be a little more explicit, I could give you the information you wanted."
"Did Mr. Norton," asked the lawyer, "say specifically for what purpose he wanted those bills?"
"Not specifically," said Rayburn, with the secretive manner of one who is determined only to answer direct questions.
Mason took a deep breath.
"Did he ask you in advance," he said, "to get for him a certain number of thousand dollar bills bearing consecutive serial numbers?"
"He did," said the vice president of the bank.
"And did he further state to you that, through your banking affiliations, he would like very much to have you make note of the numbers of those bills and ascertain when the bills were presented for deposit at any bank in the city?"
"Not exactly in those words," said Rayburn cautiously.
"Did he state that he intended to use that money to make a payment to a blackmailer, and would like to find out the identity of the person who deposited the currency?"
"Not in exactly those words," said the banker again.
"I think," said Perry Mason, smiling, "that I have all of the information I can ask you to give me, and sufficient for my purpose. Thank you, Mr. Rayburn."
He turned and walked from the bank, leaving behind him a cold-eyed individual who surveyed his back in a gaze of shrewd speculation.
Mason returned to his office and beckoned Della Street to his inner office.
"Get Drake's Detective Bureau for me," he said, "and say that I want Paul Drake, himself, to handle a matter of utmost importance. Say that I want Drake to come to my office posing as a client, and that I want him to wait in the reception room until I give him a line on what he's to do. During the time he's waiting, he is to appear merely as a client."
She looked at him with eyes that showed grave apprehension.
"Is that all?" she asked.
"That's all," he told
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