JК
The Case of the Howling Dog :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 34 из 146"
"Going to see the district attorney?" she inquired.
"No," he told her, "you can't get me anywhere until I show up or telephone again. But here's something I want you to do. Ring up Drake's Detective Bureau and get Paul Drake to drop anything he's got and come to my office. Have him waiting there when I return. I think it's going to be important as the very devil, so be sure that Drake delegates anything he's working on now, and that he's there in person."
"I'll do that," she said. "Anything else, Chief?"
"That's all," he said. "Be seeing you. 'Bye."
He hung up the receiver, walked from the little closet where the telephone was placed, and encountered the hostile eyes of the housekeeper.
"Mr. Foley said that I was to show you out," she remarked.
"That's all right," Mason told her. "I'm going out, but you might pick up twenty dollars if you wanted to make a little pocket money."
"I don't want to make any pocket money," she said. "My orders were to show you out."
"If," said Perry Mason, "you could find me a photograph of Mrs. Clinton Foley, it might be worth twenty dollars to you. It might even be worth twentyfive dollars.
Her face did not change expression.
"My orders," she said coldly, "were to show you out."
"Well," said Perry Mason, "would you mind telling Mr. Foley on his return that I tried to bribe you to get a picture of his wife?"
"My orders," she said, "were to show you out."
There was the sound of a bell jangling its summons. Mrs. Benton frowned, then looked at Perry Mason, and, for a moment, the mask of her manner dropped from her. There was feminine petulance in her tone.
"Will you please leave?" she said.
"Sure," said Perry Mason, "I'm going."
She escorted him to the front door, and, as they walked through the hall, the bell rang twice more.
"Shall I get you a taxicab?" she asked.
"No," said Mason, "don't worry about me."
Abruptly, she turned to him.
"Why," she asked, "are you so anxious to get a picture of Mrs. Foley?"
"Just wanted to see what she looks like," Perry Mason retorted cheerfully.
"No, that wasn't it. You had some reason."
As Mason was about to answer, the bell rang again, and there was the sound of knuckles banging against the wood.
The young woman gave an exclamation of annoyance, and hurried toward the door. As she opened it, three men pushed their way into the hallway.
"Clinton Foley live here?" asked one of the men.
"Yes," said Mrs. Benton.
"Going to see the district attorney?" she inquired.
"No," he told her, "you can't get me anywhere until I show up or telephone again. But here's something I want you to do. Ring up Drake's Detective Bureau and get Paul Drake to drop anything he's got and come to my office. Have him waiting there when I return. I think it's going to be important as the very devil, so be sure that Drake delegates anything he's working on now, and that he's there in person."
"I'll do that," she said. "Anything else, Chief?"
"That's all," he said. "Be seeing you. 'Bye."
He hung up the receiver, walked from the little closet where the telephone was placed, and encountered the hostile eyes of the housekeeper.
"Mr. Foley said that I was to show you out," she remarked.
"That's all right," Mason told her. "I'm going out, but you might pick up twenty dollars if you wanted to make a little pocket money."
"I don't want to make any pocket money," she said. "My orders were to show you out."
"If," said Perry Mason, "you could find me a photograph of Mrs. Clinton Foley, it might be worth twenty dollars to you. It might even be worth twentyfive dollars.
Her face did not change expression.
"My orders," she said coldly, "were to show you out."
"Well," said Perry Mason, "would you mind telling Mr. Foley on his return that I tried to bribe you to get a picture of his wife?"
"My orders," she said, "were to show you out."
There was the sound of a bell jangling its summons. Mrs. Benton frowned, then looked at Perry Mason, and, for a moment, the mask of her manner dropped from her. There was feminine petulance in her tone.
"Will you please leave?" she said.
"Sure," said Perry Mason, "I'm going."
She escorted him to the front door, and, as they walked through the hall, the bell rang twice more.
"Shall I get you a taxicab?" she asked.
"No," said Mason, "don't worry about me."
Abruptly, she turned to him.
"Why," she asked, "are you so anxious to get a picture of Mrs. Foley?"
"Just wanted to see what she looks like," Perry Mason retorted cheerfully.
"No, that wasn't it. You had some reason."
As Mason was about to answer, the bell rang again, and there was the sound of knuckles banging against the wood.
The young woman gave an exclamation of annoyance, and hurried toward the door. As she opened it, three men pushed their way into the hallway.
"Clinton Foley live here?" asked one of the men.
"Yes," said Mrs. Benton.