The Case of the Lazy Lover (4 page)

Chapter 4

Paul Drake draped his loose-jointed length over the big client's chair, twisting around until he had a comfortable position. Then after a moment, he squirmed about until his legs were hanging over the overstuffed arm of the chair.

Paul Drake carefully cultivated a nondescript appearance and a lugubrious countenance. There was, to him, no romance in connection with the operation of a detective agency. He looked upon his profession with an air of pessimistic detachment, did his work competently and deprecatingly.

"Know anything about Bertrand C. Allred, Paul?" Mason asked.

"Very little. He's a big shot in the mining business. Wait a minute, I do know something too. I heard something just the other day. He's mixed up in a suit for fraud."

"His wife has skipped out," Mason said.

" 'Okay, where do I come in?"

Mason handed Paul Drake the telegram he had received, said, "I want to talk with Mrs. Allred. Here's a telegram that was sent earlier this morning from Springfield. I want you to find her."

"Got a description?" Drake asked.

Mason shook his head, said, 'That's up to you, Paul. You'll have to work fast. She has a daughter, Patricia Faxon, the one mentioned in the wire. Mrs. Allred's supposed to be running away with a man, Robert Fleetwood. That is highly confidential. The family doesn't want it to get out."

"When did she leave?"

"Saturday night on a guess. She sent me a check drawn on a local bank here for twenty-five hundred dollars. At any rate, the check seems to have been signed by her. That check was mailed Saturday night. This morning I received another check, drawn on the First National Bank of Las Olitas, also for twenty-five hundred dollars and also purporting to be signed by her.

"In the telegram," Drake pointed out, "she only refers to one check."

"That's right. One check of twenty-five hundred. That's the only one the bank says is good."

"What about the other one?"

"Handwriting experts say it's forged. The signature was transferred and re-traced."

"How about the checks, other than the signature?"

"In typewriting," Mason said. "Both checks are the same on that score, and the interesting thing is that as nearly as I can tell from an examination of the envelopes, they were both typed on the same typewriter."

"Okay," Drake said. "Give."

Mason gave him the two envelopes in which the checks had been received.

"Where are the checks?"

"One of them has been cleared," Mason said, grinning, "and tire other is in the hands of the bank. The bank may be contemplating turning it over to the police."

The bank hasn't asked for the envelopes in which the checks came?"

"Not yet. It will. Have these envelopes photographed. Then have some enlargements made so we can check that typewriting. Get an expert to tell the make and model of typewriter which they were written."

"That's all?"

"That's all I can tell you. You'll probably think of something else as you go along."

Drake heaved himself up out of the chair. "How about this daughter, Patricia? Can I tell her about the wire?"

"I don't see why not." 'Tell her I'm from you?"

Mason thought for a moment, then said, "fell her you're a newspaper reporter first. Let's see what story she has for publication. Then tell her who you are and say you're working for me. See if it changes hex story."

"Anything else?" Drake asked.

Mason said, "I don't need to draw you a diagram, Paul. Police records are full of cases of wealthy wives who disappear, husbands who think up one story and then another. It all follows a pattern."

"You mean the husband bops the wife over the head, puts the body in the cellar, pours on a little cement, and then tells the neighbors his spouse has gone to visit 'Aunt Mary'?"

"That's the general idea."

"In this case there's a second person, Fleetwood."

"It may be a big cellar."

"Not let anyone know what's cooking, I suppose?"

"That's right."

"Shall I let Patricia know why you're looking for Mom?"

"No. Let her do the talking-- and acting."

"Okay," Drake said. "How soon do you want this stuff?"

"Soon as I can get it,"Mason said.

"You always do," Drake told him, and went out.

Mason said to Della Street, "You hold the fort, Della. I'm going to take a run out to Las Olitas. With luck I can see the bank president before he goes to lunch."

Chapter 5

Las Olitas clung to the orchard covered foothills in drowsy contentment.

Here were the homes of ranchers who were making a good going from the country. Here also were the houses of wealthy people who had removed themselves from the hurry and the bustle of the city to the tranquillity of the rich little suburb.

Situated a thousand feet high than the plain below, with a backdrop of ragged mountains behind it, Las Olitas was bathed in sunshine. From its residential section, one looked out over a bluish haze of atmospheric impurities to the place where the big city belched nauseous gases into the air.

It was a forty minute drive from Mason's office to the main street of Las Olitas, and Mason paused for a mount to admire the clear blue of the sky, the slopes of the mountains in the background. Then the lawyer left his car in a parking lot and walked a short distance to the First National Bank.

The institution seemed to reflect the temperament of the community. Large, spacious and carefully designed by skillful architects, the bank was permeated with an atmosphere of placid stability.

Mason, running his eyes down the row of open offices back of a marble partition, found a brass plaque bearing the words, "C.E. Pawling, President." Mason also noticed that Mr. Pawling was, for the moment, disengaged.

The lawyer moved over to the marble partition and studied the president, a man of around sixty who wore an expensively tailored suit with an air of distinction, whose keen, steady eyes managed to radiate a smiling welcome to the world at large, yet all the time those eyes were making a hard appraisal based on shrewd objective observation.

Mason bowed and the man behind the desk instantly arose and came over to the marble counter.

"My name is Mason," the lawyer said.

Pawling extended his hand.

"I'm a lawyer."

"Yes, Mr… not Perry Mason?"

"Yes."

"Well, well, Mr. Mason! This is indeed a pleasure! Won't you come in? I've read a lot about you. Are you thinking of opening an account, Mr. Mason?"

"No," Mason said, as he walked through the mahogany gate which the bank president had opened. "I came to see you about a matter which, quite frankly, has puzzled me-- the matter having to do with the interest and welfare of one of your depositors."

"Indeed, Mr. Mason. Do sit down. Tell me about it."

Mason said, "I received a check in the mail this morning, a check drawn on this bank in an amount of twenty-five hundred dollars."

"Ah, yes," Pawling said, his tone indicating that twenty-five hundred dollar retainers could well be paid by the majority of the depositors in his bank.

"I deposited that check with my own bank in the city, the Farmers, Merchants & Mechanics Bank."

Pawling nodded "You have perhaps heard about it?" Mason asked.

Pawling said suavely, "I'd have to learn more of the details, Mr. Mason."

"The person who signed that check," Mason said, "was Lola Faxon Allred. She has an account also at this same bank where I carry my account. In examining the signature on the check, the bank officials became suspicious, called in a handwriting expert, and the handwriting expert pronounced the check a forgery."

"Indeed."

"I suppose that you were notified."

"What is it you wish, Mr. Mason?"

Mason said, "I also received another check from Lola Faxon Allred, in an amount of twenty-five hundred dollars."

Pawling was sitting quite straight in his chair now, his head tilted slightly so that he would be sure to catch every word the lawyer said.

"That check," Mason said, "was good as gold. It was sent to me by way of a retainer to represent Mrs. Allred in certain matters which concerned her. I am, therefore, in the position of having been a recipient of a forged check and the payee in a genuine check. I am also in the position of being Mrs. Allred's attorney."

"Ah, yes," Pawling said.

Mason said, "My client is not available at the moment."

"Indeed."

"It occurs to me that the check on this bank which I received may not have been the only forgery which was perpetrated. Mrs. Allred, I believe, customarily makes her checks on a typewriter, does she not?"

"I believe so. Yes."

"And only the signature in her handwriting?"

Pawling nodded.

Mason said, "I gather from certain things that I learned, that her account here is not too active. Of course, if a bank pays a forged check, the liability is that of the bank. But, I feel certain that my client would wish to take immediate steps to see that no further forgeries are perpetrated."

Pawling pressed a button on his desk.

A secretary appeared from an adjoining office, became instantly attentive.

Pawling said, "Will you please get me a statement of the account of Lola Faxon Allred and cover all of the windows. I want any checks that have been presented today on the account "

The secretary withdrew.

Mason said, "Am I correct in assuming the account is not very active?"

"I believe Mrs. Allred likes to have large amounts of cash on hand. She likes to keep her affairs in a rather liquid condition. I am assuming that as Mrs. Allred's lawyer, you will not ask for information which she would not care to have given to you."

"I feel certain that I will make no such request."

Pawling nodded.

The secretary returned carrying a letter and a canceled check.

"The cashier intended to call this matter to your attention at the bank meeting tomorrow. He thought perhaps you should know about it, although it seems to be entirely regular in form. You will notice that the letter is addressed to him."

Pawling took the letter and the canceled check, held both documents guardedly so that Mason could not see them. He studied the letter and the check for a few seconds, then drummed silently with the tips of his fingers on the edge of the desk.

At length he looked up and nodded to his secretary, said, "That's all."

The girl withdrew. Paroling turned to Mason. His eyes were no longer smiling. They were hard and steady in their appraisal.

"You have some reason for presenting this matter to me, Mr. Mason?"

"Well, yes."

"May I ask what it is?"

Mason said, "My client retained me to look after certain interests. Then she became unavailable. The circumstances surrounding her departure are not entirely routine. It occurred to me that perhaps someone, knowing of her intended departure, had taken deliberate advantage of it to start making withdrawals from her account."

"The forgery was done cleverly?"

"I believe so. Carbon paper and tracing, but it was detected by my bank, after I myself requested the officials of the bank to give the check the closest scrutiny."

"In other words, you had some reason to think that the check had been forged?"

"I had reason to believe it might be to the interests of my client to have the check given very close scrutiny."

"But, as I understand it, Mr. Mason, this check was purportedly for the purpose of retaining you to represent Mrs. Allred."

"The other check was for that purpose."

"But why should someone forge any check in your favor, Mr. Mason?"

The lawyer smiled. "That is one of the things I would like to determine."

Pawling studied the letter and check for a few moments, and then abruptly reached a decision and passed them both to Mason.

The lawyer read the letter which was addressed to the cashier of the First National Bank at Las Olitas. It was entirely in typewriting, except for the signature, and read:

This will introduce to you Maurine Milford, whose signature appears immediately above mine, on the left-hand edge of this letter.

I am today giving Maurine Milford my check for five thousand dollars and I wish this check to be paid upon presentation without asking Maurine Milford for any identification, other than that contained in this letter.

You will notice that the check is payable to Miss Milford, that she has endorsed the check and that I, in turn, have signed the check under her endorsement, guaranteeing her signature.

I am also giving you this letter, so that there can be no doubt of Miss Milford's identity. Please cooperate by seeing that this check is promptly cashed.

Very truly yours, LOLA FAXON ALLRED

Over in the left-hand corner appeared the signature of Maurine Milford, and another signature of Lola Faxon Allred.

The check in an amount of five thousand dollars had been signed Lola Fawn Allred, then endorsed Maurine Milford, and under that endorsement appeared the signatures once more of Lola Faxon Allred and Maurine Milford.

"What do you make of it?" Pawling asked.

Mason gave the letter frowning consideration. "Do you have a magnifying glass there?" he asked.

"A very powerful one," Pawling said, and opened the drawer of his desk.

Mason studied the signatures, said, "I'm no handwriting expert, but I would say that these signatures have not been made by the same means as the forged signature on the twenty-five hundred dollar check."

Pawling nodded.

Mason went on, "The fact that Mrs. Allred went to such pains to see that Maurine Milford was provided with a means of identification is some indication that it might have been difficult for Miss Milford to have secured any other identification. In other words, Miss Milford is quite evidently a stranger here."

Again the banker contented himself with a mere nod.

"And, quite apparently, there was some necessity for haste in connection with the transaction," Mason said. "I see that the letter and the check were dated last Saturday. The documents were presented this morning."

Mason turned the letter over, noticed a rubber stamp announcing the hour of receipt by the bank and said, "Apparently it was presented a few minutes after ten o'clock. Perhaps it would be a good plan to find out whether the cashier knows Maurine Milford."

Pawling started to press the button, then checked himself, picked up the letter and the check, said, "Excuse me a moment, Mr. Mason," and quietly opening the mahogany gate in his office walked unhurriedly along the long length of the corridor, to pause before the cashier's window.

When he returned, he was carrying a slip of paper on which he had apparently jotted down the description which the cashier had given him.

"Maurine Milford," the banker said, "is apparently a rather striking young woman in the very early twenties, a decided brunette with dark eyes and long lashes. She was wearing a powder blue suit and dark blue suede gloves. She had a blue suede purse and an eccentric hat with red trim which perched on one side of her head. She took off her gloves when she presented the check. The cashier took the precaution of having her sign an additional endorsement to show she had received the money, and then paid her the money in hundred dollar bills. Tle cashier remembers that she was well-formed, slim-waisted and athletic-looking. She seemed thoroughly at ease, perfectly in command of herself and the situation. She smilingly parried all questions as to what she intended to do with the money. It was, of course, none of the cashier's business, so he was tactful. He merely asked her whether she intended to establish a residence here, whether she would like to open an account, what denomination she would like the bills in, and things of that sort.

"The only thing which the cashier noticed that was at all conspicuous about her, aside from the fact that she was quite beautiful, was that her make-up was quite heavy, particularly the lips. The lipstick seemed to be rather vivid and the natural shape of the mouth had been radically distorted and thickened. As soon as her check was paid, she put the money in her purse and walked out.

"And that, Mr. Mason, seems to be about all we know concerning the transaction. I shall, of course, have a handwriting expert immediately check this letter and the signature on the check, but you will note there are three signatures-- one on the letter, one on the face of the check, one on the back of the check under the endorsement of Maurine Milford. Each one of those signatures seems to be entirely genuine."