The Case of the Lucky Legs (16 page)

Perry Mason took a deep breath.

"I sized Marjorie Clune up as a sweet kid, a straight shooting kid, a kid who had had the cards stacked against her. I decided to give her all the breaks I could. I didn't sit in my office and wait for the cops to arrest her, and then go into court to help her. I went out on the firing line and risked my own safety in order to give her a break. I wanted to put her in a position where she could cope with the police. I wanted to be where I could go over her story and find out what was wrong with it – what she had to forget, what she should emphasize. I wanted to coach her a little bit on what the police were going to do when they picked her up. I had her where I could do that. You came along and talked her out of it because you wanted her to come down here to Summerville on a week-end petting party."

Dr. Doray started to get up from the bed.

Perry Mason reached out with a rough hand and pushed him back.

"Sit down," he said, "and shut up. I'm not done talking to you yet. She was to have joined you on the midnight plane. She didn't. You can figure what that means. That means that the police picked her up somewhere and have held her without booking her. They've probably 'buried' her in some outlying town. That means that we won't have any trace of her until after they've given her all the third degree they can think of. They'll try every trick that's known to the police.

"When she talks, she's going to tell plenty, including the fact that you're here in Summerville, registered at the hotel under the name of Charles B. Duncan. That means you can expect the police here at any time. Now laugh that off."

Dr. Doray pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, mopped the perspiration from his forehead.

"My God!" he said.

Perry Mason said nothing.

Dr. Doray put his elbows on his knees. His hands hung limply between the knees, his head dragged forward as he stared at the carpet.

"I can tell you one thing," he said, "on my word of honor, and that was that I didn't talk her into coming down here. It was…"

"It was what?" asked Perry Mason quickly.

Dr. Doray caught himself.

"It was a complete mistake on your part," he said. "Marjorie Clune wasn't to join me here. She doesn't know where I am. She hasn't any idea where she can find me. I haven't communicated with her since I left Cloverdale."

"Just to show you," said Perry Mason, "what a poor liar you are…"

There was the sound of quick steps in the corridor, a tapping on the door.

Dr. Doray stared at Perry Mason with eyes that were wide with consternation.

Perry Mason jerked open the door before Doray could so much as move.

Marjorie Clune stood on the threshold, her blue eyes deep with emotion.

An expression of incredulous dismay came over her face as she stared at Perry Mason.

"You!" she said.

Perry Mason nodded, stood slightly to one side. She saw Dr. Doray.

"Bob," she cried, "tell me what's happened!"

Dr. Doray covered the distance between them in four swift strides, took her in his arms, held her to him.

Perry Mason walked across the room to the window, stood with his hands thrust in his coat pockets, staring moodily down at the street below.

"Why didn't you get the plane, dearest?" Doray whispered. "We thought you'd been arrested."

"There was a taxicab accident. I missed the plane. I came by the first train."

Perry Mason, still standing with his back to them, his face toward the window, called over his shoulder, "Why didn't you follow my instructions, Marjorie, and stay in your room?"

"I couldn't," she said.

"Why?"

"I can't explain very well."

"I think," he told her, with his back still turned to her, "that it's very important that you tell me."

There was a period of silence. Dr. Doray started to whisper in her ear.

Perry Mason caught the sound of the hissing sibilants and spun around on his heel.

"Cut it out," he said to Dr. Doray. Then, as his eyes held the blue eyes of Marjorie Clune, he said, "Come clean, Marjorie, it's important."

She shook her head, her face white to the lips.

Perry Mason watched her shrewdly.

"All right," he said, "suppose I tell you. You telephoned to Dr. Doray. He talked you into coming down here with him. You were either going to be married and face the music together, or else you were going to try and hide here. Which was it?"

"No," she said in a firm, steady voice, "that isn't right, Mr. Mason. Neither of them is. I was the one who rang Dr. Doray. I suggested this trip. I rang his hotel. He had checked out. I left a message for him to call me at the Bostwick Hotel. He had checked out of his hotel, but he called in later and got the message. He called me. I asked him if he would come down here with me for a week. We were to get the bridal suite and be together. At the end of that time, I was going to surrender to the police."

"Here?" asked Perry Mason.

"No, of course not. We weren't going to let any one know where we had been. We were going to return to the city."

"And both were going to surrender to the police?" Perry Mason asked.

She nodded.

"What was the reason," asked Perry Mason, "that you broke your promise to me and came down here on this trip?"

She stared at him with frank, steady eyes.

"Because," she said, "I wanted a week with Bob."

Perry Mason regarded her unflinching eyes with speculative appraisal.

"You're not the type of girl who would do that," he said.

"You have seen Bob Doray off and on for months, and yet you haven't shown any desire to week-end with him – at least I don't think you have. Now, all of a sudden, you want to give him a week, and then you don't care what happens. You -"

She came to Perry Mason, put her hands on his shoulders; her lips were white and quivering.

"Please," she said, "don't tell him. You're going to figure it out in a minute. Please stop. You'll know if you'll only take time to think."

Perry Mason frowned at her, and then his eyes narrowed.

"By God," he said, "I believe I do know."

"Please don't tell him," Marjorie Clune pleaded.

Perry Mason turned away from her, walked to the window, and stood with his hands jammed into his pockets. He heard Dr. Doray rush to Marjorie Clune, clasp her in his arms.

"What is it, sweetheart? Please tell me."

"Don't, Bob, you're going to make me cry. Remember the bargain. I was to give you one week. You weren't to ask any questions. You promised that -"

Abruptly, Perry Mason's voice cut through the low tones of their conversation. His voice was like that of a radio announcer reporting some news event.

"There's an automobile," he said, "that's just parked across the street. A big man, wearing a black, broad-brimmed hat, is just getting out of the car. He's a typical country sheriff. There's another man getting out of the other side. He's a man in a uniform with a police cap with gold braid on it. He looks like a chief of police. The men are talking together. They're looking across here at the hotel."

The room behind Mason became suddenly silent. Mason continued, in the same impersonal tone of voice:

"They're starting to walk across the street toward the hotel. I don't think there's any question but what they have been tipped off to come here and look for at least one of you. Perhaps they trailed Marjorie. Perhaps they found out about Dr. Doray coming down on the midnight plane."

Perry Mason whirled to face the pair.

Dr. Doray was standing very erect, his face white. Marjorie Clune was at his side; her lips were unquivering, her eyes were fastened upon Perry Mason.

"All right," she said, "if we have to, we can take it right on the chin. You're going to represent Dr. Doray as well as myself, Mr. Mason. That's understood, is it not?"

"That," said Perry Mason, "is understood. And I'm going to do it in my own way."

"What's that?" she asked.

Perry Mason's eyes shifted to Dr. Doray.

"You've got to play the part of a man," he said. "I'm going to throw you to the wolves. You're going to take it and like it. You're going to promise me one thing. It's going to be the most difficult thing you ever did in your life, but you're going to do it."

"Will it help Marjorie?" Doray asked quietly.

"Yes," said Perry Mason.

"What is it?"

"You're going to keep absolutely quiet."

"What else?" asked Dr. Doray.

Perry Mason laughed grimly.

"That's going to be plenty," he said. "They're going to work every trick on you that's known to police psychology. They're going to tell you that Marjorie Clune has confessed to the murder; that she's done it because she loves you, and that she wants to save you. They'll make you believe it. They may even show you a signed statement that they claim she's given to them. They'll ask you if you're going to be a man, or if you're going to hide behind her skirts and let her take the death penalty for a crime that you committed. They'll try everything they can think of to make you talk. Perhaps it will be a bluff. Perhaps it won't. I want you to promise me that you won't try to do any thinking about whether it's a bluff or whether it isn't. I want you to promise me that you'll leave the question of Marjorie's defense absolutely and entirely up to me; that no matter what they tell you, you'll keep quiet. That you'll tell them I am your attorney and that you want to communicate with me. Will you do that?"

"Yes."

Perry Mason turned to Marjorie Clune.

"Where's your suitcase?"

"I left it at the depot. I wanted to make sure Bob was here."

"Good girl," he said. "Come with me."

Doray circled her with his arms, drew her hungrily to him. His lips sought hers.

Perry Mason jerked the door open.

"You haven't got any time for that stuff," he said. "Come on, Marjorie."

She continued to cling to Dr. Doray for a moment; then she turned and ran to Perry Mason.

"Close and lock the door, Doray," Mason said. "Don't be in a hurry about opening it."

He grabbed Marjorie Clune's arm and ran down the corridor. Near a corner of the corridor, he knocked on a door. There was the sound of motion behind the door.

"Quick," said Perry Mason, and whisked Marjorie around the corner of the corridor. He knocked on another door. There was no answer. He pulled a bunch of skeleton keys from his pocket, inserted one, unlocked the door and held it open.

"Go on in," he told Marjorie Clune.

Marjorie Clune walked across the threshold, and had just entered the room when the door of the elevator clanged open and two men, one wearing the uniform of a police officer with a gold-braided cap, the other wearing a black, broad-brimmed Stetson, stepped into the corridor, and pounded toward Perry Mason.

Perry Mason moved with calm, even-spaced tranquillity. He entered the room, standing so that his broad shoulders blocked the officers from seeing Marjorie Clune. Slowly, he groped for the door with the back of his heel, and kicked the door shut.

"There's a sign in the closet, Marjorie," he said, "a sign printed on pasteboard, PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB. Get that and bring it to me."

She opened the closet door, found the sign and handed it to him wordlessly.

Perry Mason was standing by the door, his head cocked slightly on one side, after the manner of one who is listening.

The sounds of rumbling conversation carried to them through the open transom. Then the sounds became more indistinct, and faded out entirely.

Perry Mason turned the knob, opened the door, slipped the string of the pasteboard placard over the knob, closed the door and twisted the bolt which locked it from the inside. He gave the hotel room a sweeping glance of inspection.

"It's unrented. Probably we'll be undisturbed here for some little time," he said.

"What are you going to do?" asked Marjorie Clune.

"Try to get you out of here and back to the city, where you should have been in the first place. Keep quiet. Don't say anything. Sit down in that chair."

She dropped obediently into the chair.

Perry Mason stood leaning against the door, listening.

Minutes passed.

At length there sounded pounding steps in the corridor. Perry Mason pulled a chair close to the door, climbed on the chair, and stood with his ear on a level with the open transom.

Voices were raised in the rising inflection which marks questions. After each question, there was a pause. There was no sound of an answer.

Perry Mason sighed with relief, stepped down from the chair, and smiled over at Marjorie Clune.

"There's just a chance," he said, "that he's man enough to stand pat."

"Of course he is," she said.

"You decided to marry Bradbury," he said slowly, "because you thought that Bob Doray was guilty of the murder."

She said nothing.

"And Bradbury," said Perry Mason, "was going to put up the money for Bob Doray's defense. Is that right?"

"Of course," she said. "I was afraid that you'd say something that would let him know. He'd have taken a dozen death sentences, rather than let me make such a sacrifice.

"Why did you do it?"

"Because it was the only way to raise money for his defense."

"And you think he needs a defense that bad?"

"Of course he does," she said, "you're a lawyer, you know that."

"Then," said Perry Mason slowly, "Bradbury has been in communication with you since you were in communication with me and promised me that you would wait at the Bostwick Hotel."

She stared steadily at him and said nothing.

"Did you call Bradbury," he asked, "or did he call you?"

"That," she said, "is something I cannot tell you."

"Why?"

"Simply because I can't."

"In other words, you've promised not to?"

"I am not even going to answer that question."

Perry Mason hooked his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, started pacing the floor.

"The officers," he said, "have got Bob Doray, they're working on him right now. If I'm going to represent him, it's important as hell that I know what the facts are. Are you going to tell them to me?"

"Yes."

"All right," he said, "go ahead."

She spoke in a low, steady voice. Once or twice there was a throaty catch in her voice, but her eyes were dry, and she continued to speak steadily through to the end.

"I was naturally elated when I won the contest in Cloverdale. I thought that I was going to be a big movie star. I guess perhaps it went to my head. I'm young. I wouldn't be human if I hadn't become conceited.

"I went to the city in a blaze of glory. I found out that I had been trapped; naturally I was too proud to write home and explain. I determined that I had the stuff in me to make good, and that I'd stay on here in the city and make good. That if Patton had defrauded me into thinking I was going to be a picture star, I would let him go to the devil and become a picture star on my own hook."

Perry Mason nodded.

"I didn't know," she said, "what I was up against. You probably know, you live in the city. I tried everything, then I met Thelma Bell; I met her through Frank Patton. I kept in touch with Frank Patton, because I was trying to get some sort of a settlement out of him. My cash was running low, and I wanted to get enough money to stay on for a while."

"Go on," Perry Mason said. "I know all that stuff, or can surmise it. Tell me what happened."

"I had an appointment," she said, "with Frank Patton the night he was killed. The appointment was for eight o'clock. I saw Bob Doray driving his car on the street that afternoon; it was just a glimpse that I had of him, but I knew he was in town. I started in calling up the hotels, finding out if they had a Dr. Doray registered there. It was an interminable job. I used a girl friend's telephone that was on a flat rate. I won't tell you who she was, I don't want to bring her into this. I spent the entire afternoon telephoning. Finally I found him; he was at the Midwick Hotel. I left word for him to call me as soon as he came in. He came in and called me; I told him where I was and he drove out and picked me up.

"I was frightfully glad to see him; I wept and made something of a scene, I guess. I was so happy that the tears streamed down my face.

"He found out that I had an appointment with Frank Patton. He didn't want me to keep it. He swore that he was going to kill Patton. You understand, he really didn't mean it, it was just a manner of expression."

"Go ahead," Perry Mason said as she paused, looking at him with anxious eyes.

"He had that knife in his car," she said. "God knows what had persuaded him to do any such thing, he must have been almost crazy. I wanted to keep my appointment with Patton, but I didn't want Bob to drive me there. Bob insisted that he was going to drive me there. Finally we compromised. I agreed to let Bob take me to Patton's place, and I would go up and tell Patton that I was finished with him once and for all, that I was going to marry Bob Doray. Bob was to go back to his hotel. I didn't give Bob Frank Patton's exact address, I simply told him where to drive me. When we got there, I told Bob to go on and I'd meet him at the hotel.

"Bob didn't want to leave me, he begged me to let him go up to Patton's apartment with me. I became absolutely terrified. Bob parked the car, I guess he parked it in front of a fire plug; I guess he was so excited that he didn't notice what he was doing, and I know I didn't. I told Bob I was thirsty and got him to take me to an ice-cream parlor. I went into the ladies' rest-room and waited and waited and waited. I sent the maid out to see if Bob was still there. He was, so then I had her go out and tell Bob that I had gone out through the back way; there really wasn't any back way, but I did that in order to get rid of him."

"And you continued to wait in the rest-room?" Perry Mason asked.

"Yes, I continued to wait in the rest-room."

"For how long?" asked Perry Mason.

"I don't know, it may have been five minutes, perhaps longer."

"So then what?"

"So then when I thought the coast was clear, I went out to the street. I couldn't see any sign of Bob; I went just as fast as I could to Frank Patton's apartment."

"Now just a minute," Perry Mason said. "Before that you'd telephoned and left a message that you were going to be late for your appointment?"

"Yes. You see, I'd found Bob and I was so happy, and I wanted to be with him just as long as I could. I knew that I was going to be just a little bit late."

"So Thelma Bell had an appointment with Frank Patton for that night?"

"Of course, her appointment was for the same time as mine."

"All right," Perry Mason said, "now we're getting somewhere. Go on and tell what happened."

"I went through the lobby of the apartment house," she said. "I took the elevator to the third floor, and walked down to Patton's apartment; I knocked on the door, there was no answer. I mechanically tried the doorknob; the doorknob turned and the door opened. I found myself in the apartment. I noticed the lights were on and that Patton's hat, gloves and stick were on the table. I called out, 'Oh, Mr. Patton,' or something like that, and walked through to the bedroom. Then I found him."

"Just a minute," said Perry Mason. "Was the bathroom door open or closed?"

"It was open."

"And he was dead when you entered the bedroom?"

"Of course, I tell you he was lying there with the blood all over the floor. It was awful."

"What happened after that?" Perry Mason inquired.

"Nothing," she said. "I turned around and walked right out. I pulled the door shut behind me; I didn't lock it, I didn't have any key; it was unlocked when I went in and it was unlocked when I left it. I went down the corridor, took the elevator down to the lobby; there was no one in the lobby; I walked out of the apartment house and had just started to walk down the street when I saw you. You looked at me in a peculiar way, with a searching look as though you were trying to find out something that I knew, and it frightened me. It was the first time I realized that I might be involved in some way."

"In what way?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, "questions and things like that. You know, the kind of things that you read about in newspapers, where I'd be cross-examined by lawyers and have my photograph in the paper, and perhaps have my word questioned."

"You wore white shoes," he said. "Where are they?"

"Thelma Bell took them."

"Why did she take them?"

"Because they had blood on them, of course."

"Did you know it at the time?"

"Not at the time. I found it out after I got to the apartment. Thelma saw the blood stains on the shoes."

"How did that happen?"

"I walked in some of the blood and some of it spattered on my shoes."

"There was none on the coat you wore?" he asked.

"No," she said, "none. There wasn't any on my stockings, just on my shoes."

"Are you certain," asked Perry Mason, "that there was none on your stockings?"

"Of course, I'm certain."

"None on your dress?"

"Of course not. How could any blood get on my dress if there wasn't any on my coat?"

Perry Mason nodded slowly.

"That sounds reasonable," he said. "Now tell me some more about how you happened to leave the Bostwick Hotel, instead of staying there the way I told you to."

"I've already explained that," she said. "I left because I wanted to be with Bob."

"When you went to see Patton, you intended to tell him that you were finished with him, that you were going to marry Bob Doray?"

"Yes," she said after a moment's hesitation.

"When I saw you at Thelma Bell's apartment, you felt the same way about it?"

"I was terribly afraid at that time," she said. "As soon as Thelma found the blood on my shoes, she wanted to know what had happened. I told her just what had happened as well as I knew. She was afraid that I was going to get mixed into it."

"She told you that?"

"Yes."

"She had an appointment with Frank Patton that night?"

"She had an appointment, but she didn't keep it. She broke her appointments with Patton lots of times, this time her boy friend wouldn't let her keep the appointment, he was out with her. George Sanborne is the name. She told you all about it. You remember, you called Sanborne and found out that it was true."

"We'll let that go for the moment," Perry Mason said. "What I'm getting at, is that you were still intending to marry Doray when I talked with you there at Thelma's apartment?"

"I guess so. I wasn't thinking much about marriage then, I was frightened, particularly after you came there."

"But as far as matrimony was concerned, you still intended to marry Bob Doray?"

"If I had thought about it, yes."

"Now, sometime before midnight," Perry Mason said, "you had determined you were going to marry Bradbury. Why?"

"Because," she said, "I knew that was the only way I could get money to save Bob Doray."

"You think Bob Doray did it?"

"I'm not thinking anything about it. All I know is that he must have the best legal service he can get."

"When you saw the body," said Perry Mason, "you saw the knife that was lying there by it?"

"Yes."

"You recognized that knife?"

"What do you mean?"

"You knew that Bob Doray had purchased a knife?"

"Yes, I had seen it in his automobile."

"You knew what he intended to do with it?"

"Yes. He had told me."

"That is one of the reasons you were afraid to let him know where Frank Patton lived?"

"Yes."

"Then when you saw the knife on the floor, you must have jumped to the conclusion at once that Bob Doray had killed him."

"What sort of a conclusion would you have reached under the circumstances?" she asked.

"Now let's see," Perry Mason said, "you went to the candy store. You went into the rest-room; you stayed there and persuaded Dr. Doray that you had gone out the back door?"

"Yes."

"He left perhaps five minutes before you did."

"Yes."

"How long had Patton been killed before you entered the door? Have you any idea?"

"It couldn't have been long," she said, "just a minute or two… Oh, it was ghastly!"

"Was he still moving?"

"No."

"Was blood flowing from his wound?"

"Lots of it," she said and shuddered.

"Therefore," Perry Mason said, "you immediately concluded that Doray had done the killing. You thought that when you didn't show up, but sent word that you had already gone to keep your appointment with Patton, Doray became enraged."

"Yes."

Perry Mason regarded her thoughtfully.

"Do you know what I'm doing with you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm risking my entire professional career," he said, "simply on the strength of the impression that you make, plus certain things that I have observed in connection with the case. You're wanted for murder. I'm helping you escape. If I'm caught, that's going to make me technically an accessory after the fact. In other words, I'm going to be guilty of murder as an accessory."

She said nothing.

"I didn't have that same confidence in Dr. Doray that I have in you," he told her, "that's the reason I left Dr. Doray in the room to take the rap. I knew that if the police found an empty room, they'd make some effort to search the hotel. If they found Doray and he didn't talk, they might not have known whether you were in the hotel or not. That's the chance I took."