JК
The Case of the Caretakers Cat :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 3 из 146Laxter's served notice that Ashton can either get rid of the cat, or it'll be poisoned. I could handle it, only Ashton insists on seeing you or no one. I wouldn't take up your time with it—only you insist upon knowing all about the clients who come to the office and won't let any of us handle their cases."
Mason nodded, and said, "Right. You can't ever tell when something seemingly trivial may develop into something big. I remember the time Fenwick was trying a murder case and a man came to the office and insisted on seeing him about a battery case. Fenwick tried to turn him over to a clerk and the man left the office in a rage. Two months after Fenwick's client had been hanged, Fenwick found out the man wanted to see him about having the prosecuting witness in the murder case arrested for assault and battery growing out of an automobile accident. If Fenwick had talked with that man he'd have found out the prosecuting witness couldn't have been where he said he was at the time the murder was committed."
Jackson had heard the story before. He nodded with courteous attention. In a tone which showed very plainly he thought the troubles of Mr. Ashton had occupied far too much of the time allotted for the morning conference, he inquired, "Shall I tell Mr. Ashton we can't handle it?"
"Has he any money?" Mason inquired.
"I don't think so. Under the will he was left a perpetual job as caretaker. That job pays him fifty dollars a month, and his board and room."
"And he's an old man?" Mason inquired.
"Reasonably so. An old crank, if you ask me."
"But he loves animals," Mason remarked.
"He's very much attached to his cat, if that's what you mean."
Mason nodded slowly, and said, "That's what I mean."
Della Street, more familiar with Mason's moods than the assistant attorney, entered the conversation with the easy familiarity of one who works in an office where there is but little formality.
"You just finished a murder case, Chief. Why not let the assistants handle things while you take a cruise to the Orient? It'll give you a rest."
Mason regarded her with twinkling eyes. "Who the devil would take care of Ashton's cat, then?"
"Mr. Jackson could."
"He won't see Jackson."
"Then let him find some other attorney. The city is overrun with attorneys. You can't afford to take your time to bother with a cat!"
"An old man," Mason said, almost musingly, "a crank… probably friendless. His benefactor is dead. The cat represents the only living thing to which he's attached. Most lawyers would laugh the case out of the office.
Mason nodded, and said, "Right. You can't ever tell when something seemingly trivial may develop into something big. I remember the time Fenwick was trying a murder case and a man came to the office and insisted on seeing him about a battery case. Fenwick tried to turn him over to a clerk and the man left the office in a rage. Two months after Fenwick's client had been hanged, Fenwick found out the man wanted to see him about having the prosecuting witness in the murder case arrested for assault and battery growing out of an automobile accident. If Fenwick had talked with that man he'd have found out the prosecuting witness couldn't have been where he said he was at the time the murder was committed."
Jackson had heard the story before. He nodded with courteous attention. In a tone which showed very plainly he thought the troubles of Mr. Ashton had occupied far too much of the time allotted for the morning conference, he inquired, "Shall I tell Mr. Ashton we can't handle it?"
"Has he any money?" Mason inquired.
"I don't think so. Under the will he was left a perpetual job as caretaker. That job pays him fifty dollars a month, and his board and room."
"And he's an old man?" Mason inquired.
"Reasonably so. An old crank, if you ask me."
"But he loves animals," Mason remarked.
"He's very much attached to his cat, if that's what you mean."
Mason nodded slowly, and said, "That's what I mean."
Della Street, more familiar with Mason's moods than the assistant attorney, entered the conversation with the easy familiarity of one who works in an office where there is but little formality.
"You just finished a murder case, Chief. Why not let the assistants handle things while you take a cruise to the Orient? It'll give you a rest."
Mason regarded her with twinkling eyes. "Who the devil would take care of Ashton's cat, then?"
"Mr. Jackson could."
"He won't see Jackson."
"Then let him find some other attorney. The city is overrun with attorneys. You can't afford to take your time to bother with a cat!"
"An old man," Mason said, almost musingly, "a crank… probably friendless. His benefactor is dead. The cat represents the only living thing to which he's attached. Most lawyers would laugh the case out of the office.