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The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
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“Rather commendable for one who is a servant, as far as minor matters are concerned,” he observed, “but I think you will find the law has ideas of its own upon thematter, and that you will be required to see and to hear.”
“No,” she said, without so much as moving a muscle of her head. “I saw nothing.”
“And heard nothing?”
“And heard nothing.”
Perry Mason scowled. Somehow he sensed that the woman was concealing something.
“Did you answer those questions in just that way when you were questioned upstairs?” he asked.
“I think,” she said, “the coffee is about ready to start percolating. You can turn the fire down as soon as it does, so that it doesn’t boil over.”
Mason turned to the coffee. The percolator was specially designed to heat a maximum of water in a small amount of time, and the fire under it was a blue flame of terrific heat. Steam was commencing to rise from the water.
“I’ll watch the coffee,” he said, “but I am interested to know whether or not you answered the questions in exactly that way when you were upstairs.”
“What way?” she countered.
“The way you answered them here.”
“I told them the same thing,” she said, “that I saw nothing and heard nothing.”
Norma Veitch giggled. “That’s her story,” she said, “and she sticks to it.”
The mother snapped, “Norma!”
Mason stared at them both, his thoughtful face apparently absolutely placid. Only his eyes were hard and calculating.
“You know,” he said, “I’m a lawyer. If you have anything to confide in me, now would make an excellent time.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Veitch, tonelessly.
“How’s that?” asked Perry Mason.
“I merely agreed,” she said, “that this would be an excellent time.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well?” said Mason.
“But I have nothing to confide,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the table top.
At that moment, the percolator commenced to bubble. Mason turned down the fire.
“I’ll get some cups and saucers,” said Norma, jumping to her feet.
Mrs. Veitch said, “Sit down, Norma. I’ll do it.” She pushed back her chair, walked to one of the cupboards, and took down some cups and saucers. “They’ll drink out of these.”
“Mother,” said Norma, “those are the cups and saucers that are kept for the chauffeurs and servants.”
“These are police officers,” said Mrs. Veitch. “They’re just the same.”
“No, they aren’t, Mother,” said Norma.
“I’m doing this,” said Mrs. Veitch.
“Rather commendable for one who is a servant, as far as minor matters are concerned,” he observed, “but I think you will find the law has ideas of its own upon thematter, and that you will be required to see and to hear.”
“No,” she said, without so much as moving a muscle of her head. “I saw nothing.”
“And heard nothing?”
“And heard nothing.”
Perry Mason scowled. Somehow he sensed that the woman was concealing something.
“Did you answer those questions in just that way when you were questioned upstairs?” he asked.
“I think,” she said, “the coffee is about ready to start percolating. You can turn the fire down as soon as it does, so that it doesn’t boil over.”
Mason turned to the coffee. The percolator was specially designed to heat a maximum of water in a small amount of time, and the fire under it was a blue flame of terrific heat. Steam was commencing to rise from the water.
“I’ll watch the coffee,” he said, “but I am interested to know whether or not you answered the questions in exactly that way when you were upstairs.”
“What way?” she countered.
“The way you answered them here.”
“I told them the same thing,” she said, “that I saw nothing and heard nothing.”
Norma Veitch giggled. “That’s her story,” she said, “and she sticks to it.”
The mother snapped, “Norma!”
Mason stared at them both, his thoughtful face apparently absolutely placid. Only his eyes were hard and calculating.
“You know,” he said, “I’m a lawyer. If you have anything to confide in me, now would make an excellent time.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Veitch, tonelessly.
“How’s that?” asked Perry Mason.
“I merely agreed,” she said, “that this would be an excellent time.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well?” said Mason.
“But I have nothing to confide,” she said, her eyes still fixed on the table top.
At that moment, the percolator commenced to bubble. Mason turned down the fire.
“I’ll get some cups and saucers,” said Norma, jumping to her feet.
Mrs. Veitch said, “Sit down, Norma. I’ll do it.” She pushed back her chair, walked to one of the cupboards, and took down some cups and saucers. “They’ll drink out of these.”
“Mother,” said Norma, “those are the cups and saucers that are kept for the chauffeurs and servants.”
“These are police officers,” said Mrs. Veitch. “They’re just the same.”
“No, they aren’t, Mother,” said Norma.
“I’m doing this,” said Mrs. Veitch.