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The Case of the Caretakers Cat :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 60 из 146Get an eyeful if you can and an earful if youcan't."
"You're ducking?" Drake asked.
"I'm ducking," Mason said.
At the head of the stairs leading from the cellar, Glassman hurried toward a telephone. Perry Mason turned to the right, crossed a kitchen, unlocked a door, crossed a screened porch, descended a flight of stairs, and found himself in the rainy night.
Chapter 8
The electric sign bearing the legend " Winnie's Waffles " was dark. a night light burned over the door. perry mason tried the knob. The door opened. Mason closed the door behind him, walked down the passageway, between counter and booths, until he came to a swinging open door. The room was dark. He heard the sound of a woman sobbing. Mason said, "Hello," and a light switch clicked. A table lamp, with a rose silk shade, gave soft illumination.
A single bed sat against the wall. There were two chairs, a table and a bookcase made by the simple expedient of nailing the wooden cases in which canned goods came into tiers and giving them coats of enamel. The homemade bookcase was well filled with books. A corner of the room had been curtained off to form a closet. A door stood partially open and through it Mason could see the gooseneck connection of a shower. A few framed pictures hung on the wall, and the place, despite the cheapness of its furnishings, had a comfortable, homelike atmosphere. On the table, turned so it faced the bed, was a large framed photograph of Douglas Keene.
Winifred Laxter sat on the bed. Her eyes were red from tears. A big Persian cat sprawled contentedly at her side, its head resting against her leg. It was purring audibly. As the light switched on, the cat turned with that peculiar writhing motion common to felines, and stared at Perry Mason with bright, hard eyes. Then it closed its eyes, stretched out its forepaws, yawned, and once more began to purr.
"What's the trouble?" Mason asked.
The girl indicated the telephone with a little hopeless gesture, as though that gesture explained everything. "And I thought I could laugh at life," she said.
Mason drew up a chair and sat down. He recognized that she was near hysteria, and made his voice casual. "Nice cat."
"Yes, it's Clinker."
Mason raised his eyebrows.
"Doug went out and got it."
"Why?"
"Because he was afraid Sam would poison it."
"When?"
"Around ten o'clock. I sent him."
"Did he talk with Ashton?" Mason asked, making his voice sound elaborately casual.
"No. Ashton wasn't there.
"You're ducking?" Drake asked.
"I'm ducking," Mason said.
At the head of the stairs leading from the cellar, Glassman hurried toward a telephone. Perry Mason turned to the right, crossed a kitchen, unlocked a door, crossed a screened porch, descended a flight of stairs, and found himself in the rainy night.
Chapter 8
The electric sign bearing the legend " Winnie's Waffles " was dark. a night light burned over the door. perry mason tried the knob. The door opened. Mason closed the door behind him, walked down the passageway, between counter and booths, until he came to a swinging open door. The room was dark. He heard the sound of a woman sobbing. Mason said, "Hello," and a light switch clicked. A table lamp, with a rose silk shade, gave soft illumination.
A single bed sat against the wall. There were two chairs, a table and a bookcase made by the simple expedient of nailing the wooden cases in which canned goods came into tiers and giving them coats of enamel. The homemade bookcase was well filled with books. A corner of the room had been curtained off to form a closet. A door stood partially open and through it Mason could see the gooseneck connection of a shower. A few framed pictures hung on the wall, and the place, despite the cheapness of its furnishings, had a comfortable, homelike atmosphere. On the table, turned so it faced the bed, was a large framed photograph of Douglas Keene.
Winifred Laxter sat on the bed. Her eyes were red from tears. A big Persian cat sprawled contentedly at her side, its head resting against her leg. It was purring audibly. As the light switched on, the cat turned with that peculiar writhing motion common to felines, and stared at Perry Mason with bright, hard eyes. Then it closed its eyes, stretched out its forepaws, yawned, and once more began to purr.
"What's the trouble?" Mason asked.
The girl indicated the telephone with a little hopeless gesture, as though that gesture explained everything. "And I thought I could laugh at life," she said.
Mason drew up a chair and sat down. He recognized that she was near hysteria, and made his voice casual. "Nice cat."
"Yes, it's Clinker."
Mason raised his eyebrows.
"Doug went out and got it."
"Why?"
"Because he was afraid Sam would poison it."
"When?"
"Around ten o'clock. I sent him."
"Did he talk with Ashton?" Mason asked, making his voice sound elaborately casual.
"No. Ashton wasn't there.