The Case of the Velvet Claws: A Perry Mason Mystery #1 by Erle Stanley Gardner

Author:Erle Stanley Gardner [Gardner, Erle Stanley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mytery, Crime, Detective, Suspense
ISBN: 9781627229210
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: American Bar Association
Published: 2015-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

It was well after two o’clock when Mason opened the door of his private office and walked in to find Paul Drake and Della Street huddled in low-voiced conversation.

“Hello,” Mason said cheerfully. “You look like a couple of conspirators.”

“We are,” Della said.

Mason said, “I think we’ve got the lead, Paul. That Celinda Gilson is it. She tried to pretend she was sound asleep when I rang the bell, but she gave herself away. She’s quite a cigarette smoker, yet while she was knuckling her eyes and going through all the motions of being freshly awakened, she didn’t care particularly for a cigarette. Now any person who is really addicted to cigarettes has to have one the first thing in the morning on awakening. The ash tray shows she’s a heavy smoker. I offered her one and she wasn’t too keen about it, but hesitated a moment before she accepted it. I think she was about to say she’d smoked too much or something, and . . . What’s the matter?”

Drake said, “Your theory’s cockeyed, Perry.”

“What theory?”

“That Fargo killed his wife.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t.”

“Shoot.”

Drake said, “We finally got the dope on the Fargos by digging up their marriage application. We got the name and address of the mother. She lives in Sacramento. We called her up just on general principles.”

“The deuce,” Mason said. “What did she say?”

“Said that her daughter was on the road to Sacramento on a Greyhound bus, that she’d arrive this evening.”

Mason said, “Personally I don’t think it’s true. If it is, however, it puts us in an awful mess.”

“How come, if she’s your client and she’s safe and .. “And her husband has been neatlv murdered with a

J knife stuck in his throat. When did that Greyhound bus leave here?”

“Probably the one that leaves here at eight-forty-five a.m.”

Mason started pacing the floor. “We’ve got to get word to that woman somehow.”

“How come?” Drake asked. Mason said, “She’s going to need an alibi, Paul.”

“Well, if she’s on the bus that should be a good alibi.”

“She’s going to need a damn good alibi,” Mason said. “This is a murder case. You can’t tell, Tragg may decide to try to pin it on her. She’s going to need the names of fellow passengers who can vouch for her . . . . Della, charter a private plane. I want a fast one. Paul, get a schedule of that bus. Get a description. Della, you come with me. Grab all the data you have. Get Drake’s reports. Get the mother’s address. Get all the factual information we have. We’re going to have to start getting proof on an alibi and getting it fast.”

Della Street picked up the telephone which went through the switchboard, said, “Gertie, get us our plane rental service on the line. Tell them we want the fastest charter plane we can get to take us to Sacramento . . . .”

“Stockton,” Mason amended. “We’re going to Stockton.”

“Stockton,” Della Street said in the telephone. “As soon as you get the right person on the line put through a call to me.

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