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The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 53 из 149I would say, offhand, that he was rather hardboiled. He might not be a perfect gentleman or very chivalrous in dealing with womenfolk’s.”
Bill Hoffman turned the matter over in his mind.
“Well,” he said, “we can tell a lot more when we’ve traced that gun.”
“Can you trace it?” asked Mason.
“I think so. The numbers are on it.”
“Yes,” Mason said, “I saw them when they took down the numbers. A 32caliber Colt automatic, eh?”
“That’s the gun,” said Hoffman.
There was a period of silence. Hoffman smoked meditatively. Perry Mason sat perfectly still without so much as moving a muscle, the pose of a man who is either absolutely relaxed, or else is afraid to give way to the slightest motion for fear that it will betray him.
Once or twice Bill Hoffman raised his placid eyes and looked at Perry Mason. Finally Hoffman said, “There’s something funny about this whole thing, Mason. I don’t know just how to explain it.”
“Well,” said Mason, “it’s your business. I usually get in on the murder cases long after the police have finished. This is a new experience for me.”
Hoffman flashed him a glance.
“Yes,” he said, “it is rather unusual for an attorney to be on the ground before the police get there, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Mason, noncommittally, “I think I can agree with you upon that word ‘unusual.’”
Hoffman smoked awhile in silence.
“Located the nephew yet?” asked Mason.
“No,” said Hoffman. “We’ve covered most of the places where he usually hangs out. We crossed his trail earlier in the evening. He’d been out with some jane at a night club. We’ve located her all right. She said that he left her beforemidnight. About elevenfifteen she thinks it was.”
Suddenly there sounded the noise of a motor pounding up the drive. The rain had ceased, and the moon was breaking through the clouds.
Above the noise of the motor could be heard a steady thump… thump… thump… thump.
The car came to a stop, and a horn blared.
“Now what the devil?” said Bill Hoffman, and got slowly to his feet.
Perry Mason had his head cocked on one side, listening.
“Sounds like a flat,” he said.
Bill Hoffman moved toward the door, and Perry Mason followed along behind him.
Sergeant Hoffman opened the front door.
There were four or five police cars parked in the driveway. The car that had just driven up was on the outside of the circle of parked cars.
Bill Hoffman turned the matter over in his mind.
“Well,” he said, “we can tell a lot more when we’ve traced that gun.”
“Can you trace it?” asked Mason.
“I think so. The numbers are on it.”
“Yes,” Mason said, “I saw them when they took down the numbers. A 32caliber Colt automatic, eh?”
“That’s the gun,” said Hoffman.
There was a period of silence. Hoffman smoked meditatively. Perry Mason sat perfectly still without so much as moving a muscle, the pose of a man who is either absolutely relaxed, or else is afraid to give way to the slightest motion for fear that it will betray him.
Once or twice Bill Hoffman raised his placid eyes and looked at Perry Mason. Finally Hoffman said, “There’s something funny about this whole thing, Mason. I don’t know just how to explain it.”
“Well,” said Mason, “it’s your business. I usually get in on the murder cases long after the police have finished. This is a new experience for me.”
Hoffman flashed him a glance.
“Yes,” he said, “it is rather unusual for an attorney to be on the ground before the police get there, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Mason, noncommittally, “I think I can agree with you upon that word ‘unusual.’”
Hoffman smoked awhile in silence.
“Located the nephew yet?” asked Mason.
“No,” said Hoffman. “We’ve covered most of the places where he usually hangs out. We crossed his trail earlier in the evening. He’d been out with some jane at a night club. We’ve located her all right. She said that he left her beforemidnight. About elevenfifteen she thinks it was.”
Suddenly there sounded the noise of a motor pounding up the drive. The rain had ceased, and the moon was breaking through the clouds.
Above the noise of the motor could be heard a steady thump… thump… thump… thump.
The car came to a stop, and a horn blared.
“Now what the devil?” said Bill Hoffman, and got slowly to his feet.
Perry Mason had his head cocked on one side, listening.
“Sounds like a flat,” he said.
Bill Hoffman moved toward the door, and Perry Mason followed along behind him.
Sergeant Hoffman opened the front door.
There were four or five police cars parked in the driveway. The car that had just driven up was on the outside of the circle of parked cars.