The Case of the Velvet Claws   ::   Гарднер Эрл Стенли

“I’m handling this,” he said.

Eva Belter continued to sob into her handkerchief.

“Go ahead,” said Mason. “What did you tell them?”

She shook her head.

“Never mind that sob stuff,” he said, “it doesn’t go over so big right now. We’re in a jam and you’d better tell me what you said.”

She sobbed. “I just ttttold them that I heard your vvvvoice.”

“Did you say it was my voice? Or some one that sounded like me?”

“I tttold them everything. That it was your voice.”

His tone was hard. “You knew damned well it wasn’t my voice.”

“I didn’t intend to tell them,” she wailed, “but it was the truth. It was your voice.”

“All right. We’ll take it that way,” Mason said.

Della Street started to say something, but stopped when he turned on her and fastened her with levellidded eyes.

There was a silence in the room, broken only by the faint rumble of noises from the street, and the sobs of the woman.

After a minute or two the door opened, and Paul Drake walked in.

“Hello, everybody,” he said, cheerfully. “Made time, didn’t I? I got a break. There was nobody who seemed to have the slightest interest in where I was, or what I was doing.”

“Did you see anybody hanging around the front of the place?” asked Mason. “I’m not entirely certain that they didn’t shadow Della.”

“Nobody that I noticed.”

Mason waved his hand toward the woman who sat on the bed with her legs crossed.

“This is Eva Belter,” he said.

Drake grinned and looked at the legs.

“Yes,” he said, “I recognized her from a picture in the paper.”

Eva Belter took the handkerchief down from her eyes, and stared up at Drake. She smiled ingratiatingly.

Della Street snapped, “Even your tears weren’t genuine!”

Eva Belter turned and looked at her, her blue eyes suddenly grown hard.

Perry Mason whirled on Della. “Listen, Della,” he said, “I’m running this show.” He looked over at Paul Drake. “Did you bring the notebooks and pencils, Paul?”

The detective nodded.

Mason took the notebooks and pencils, and passed them over to Della Street.

“Can you move the table and take down what’s said, Della?” he asked.

“I can try,” she said in a choked voice.

“All right. Be sure and get what she says,” and he jerked his thumb in the direction of Eva Belter.