JК
The Case of the Caretakers Cat :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 59 из 146The housekeeper swayed, flung up her hands,and her knees sagged as she slid to the floor. Glassman jumped through the door into the caretaker's room. Oafley caught the housekeeper by the armpits. "Steady," he said. "Take it easy. What's the trouble?"
Mason pushed past them into the room.
Charles Ashton's bed was by an open window in the basement. The window opened almost directly at street level. It had been propped open with a stick, the opening being some four or five inches, just enough to enable a cat to slip through easily.
Directly beneath the window was the bed, covered with a white counterpane and on this white counterpane was a series of muddy cat tracks, tracks which covered not only the spread, but appeared on the pillow as well.
Lying in the bed, his face an unpleasant thing to behold, was the dead body of Charles Ashton. It needed but one look at the bulging eyes and protruding tongue to enable these experts in homicide to realize the manner in which the man had died.
Burger whirled to Glassman.
"Keep the people out of this room," he warned. "Get the homicide squad on the telephone. Don't let Sam Laxter out of your sight until this thing has been cleaned up. I'll stay here and look around. Get started!"
Glassman whirled, thrust his shoulder against Perry Mason. "On your way," he said.
Mason left the room. Glassman slammed the door shut. "Let me get to the telephone. Oafley, don't try to leave the place."
"Why should I try to leave the place?" Oafley demanded indignantly.
"Don't make any statements! Don't make any statements! Don't make any statements!" Shuster pleaded hysterically. "Keep quiet! Let me do the talking. Can't you understand? It's a murder! Don't talk with them. Don't have anything to do with them. Don't…"
Glassman stepped forward belligerently. "You can either keep your face closed," he said, "or I'll button up your lips so they'll stay shut for a while."
Shuster scuttled away from him like a squirrel climbing a tree, chattering continuously. "No statement. No statement at all. Can't you understand that I'm your lawyer? You don't know what these people have said about you. You don't know what accusations they've made. Keep quiet. Let me do the talking for you."
"There's no necessity for such talk," Oafley said to Shuster. "I'm just as anxious to help clean this thing up as the officers are. You're hysterical. Shut up!"
The party climbed the stairs. Perry Mason, dropping behind, put his lips close to Paul Drake's ear. "Stick around, Paul," he said, "and see what happens.
Mason pushed past them into the room.
Charles Ashton's bed was by an open window in the basement. The window opened almost directly at street level. It had been propped open with a stick, the opening being some four or five inches, just enough to enable a cat to slip through easily.
Directly beneath the window was the bed, covered with a white counterpane and on this white counterpane was a series of muddy cat tracks, tracks which covered not only the spread, but appeared on the pillow as well.
Lying in the bed, his face an unpleasant thing to behold, was the dead body of Charles Ashton. It needed but one look at the bulging eyes and protruding tongue to enable these experts in homicide to realize the manner in which the man had died.
Burger whirled to Glassman.
"Keep the people out of this room," he warned. "Get the homicide squad on the telephone. Don't let Sam Laxter out of your sight until this thing has been cleaned up. I'll stay here and look around. Get started!"
Glassman whirled, thrust his shoulder against Perry Mason. "On your way," he said.
Mason left the room. Glassman slammed the door shut. "Let me get to the telephone. Oafley, don't try to leave the place."
"Why should I try to leave the place?" Oafley demanded indignantly.
"Don't make any statements! Don't make any statements! Don't make any statements!" Shuster pleaded hysterically. "Keep quiet! Let me do the talking. Can't you understand? It's a murder! Don't talk with them. Don't have anything to do with them. Don't…"
Glassman stepped forward belligerently. "You can either keep your face closed," he said, "or I'll button up your lips so they'll stay shut for a while."
Shuster scuttled away from him like a squirrel climbing a tree, chattering continuously. "No statement. No statement at all. Can't you understand that I'm your lawyer? You don't know what these people have said about you. You don't know what accusations they've made. Keep quiet. Let me do the talking for you."
"There's no necessity for such talk," Oafley said to Shuster. "I'm just as anxious to help clean this thing up as the officers are. You're hysterical. Shut up!"
The party climbed the stairs. Perry Mason, dropping behind, put his lips close to Paul Drake's ear. "Stick around, Paul," he said, "and see what happens.