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The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 60 из 149“You know what the master would have said had he been alive. He’d have given them nothing.”
Norma Veitch said, “Well, he isn’t alive. Mrs. Belter is going to be the one that runs things.”
Mrs. Veitch turned and looked steadily at her daughter from those deepset, lackluster eyes.
“Don’t be too sure that she is,” she said.
Perry Mason poured some of the coffee into the cups, and then poured it back through the coffee container in the percolator. When he had poured it through the second time, it was black and steaming.
“Get me a tray,” he said, “and I’ll take in a couple of cups to Sergeant Hoffman and Carl Griffin. You can serve coffee to the others upstairs.”
Wordlessly, she secured him a tray. Perry Mason poured three cups of coffee, picked up the tray, and walked into the dining room, through it into the sitting room.
Sergeant Hoffman was standing, his shoulders thrown back, his head thrust forward, feet wide apart.
Plumped down in one of the chairs, his face flushed and his eyes very red, was Carl Griffin.
Sergeant Hoffman was talking as Perry Mason brought in the coffee.
“That wasn’t the way you talked about her when you first came in,” Sergeant Hoffman said.
“I was drunk then,” saidGriffin.
Hoffman stared at him. “Many times a person tells the truth when he’s drunk and conceals his feelings when he’s sober,” he remarked.
Carl Griffin raised his eyebrows in an expression of wellbred surprise.
“Indeed?” he observed. “I’d never noticed it.”
Sergeant Hoffman heard Mason behind him, whirled, and grinned as he saw the steaming cups of coffee.
“Okay, Mason,” he said, “that’s going to come in pretty handy. Drink one of these,Griffin, and you’ll feel better.”
Griffin nodded. “It looks good, but I feel all right now.”
Mason handed him a cup of coffee.
“Do you know anything about a will?” asked Sergeant Hoffman, abruptly.
“I’d rather not answer that, if you don’t mind, Sergeant,”Griffin answered.
Hoffman took himself a cup of coffee. “It happens that I do mind,” he commented. “I want you to answer that question.”
“Yes, there’s a will,”Griffin admitted.
“Where is it?” asked Hoffman.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you know there is one?”
“He showed it to me.”
“Does the property all go to his wife?”
Griffin shook his head.
Norma Veitch said, “Well, he isn’t alive. Mrs. Belter is going to be the one that runs things.”
Mrs. Veitch turned and looked steadily at her daughter from those deepset, lackluster eyes.
“Don’t be too sure that she is,” she said.
Perry Mason poured some of the coffee into the cups, and then poured it back through the coffee container in the percolator. When he had poured it through the second time, it was black and steaming.
“Get me a tray,” he said, “and I’ll take in a couple of cups to Sergeant Hoffman and Carl Griffin. You can serve coffee to the others upstairs.”
Wordlessly, she secured him a tray. Perry Mason poured three cups of coffee, picked up the tray, and walked into the dining room, through it into the sitting room.
Sergeant Hoffman was standing, his shoulders thrown back, his head thrust forward, feet wide apart.
Plumped down in one of the chairs, his face flushed and his eyes very red, was Carl Griffin.
Sergeant Hoffman was talking as Perry Mason brought in the coffee.
“That wasn’t the way you talked about her when you first came in,” Sergeant Hoffman said.
“I was drunk then,” saidGriffin.
Hoffman stared at him. “Many times a person tells the truth when he’s drunk and conceals his feelings when he’s sober,” he remarked.
Carl Griffin raised his eyebrows in an expression of wellbred surprise.
“Indeed?” he observed. “I’d never noticed it.”
Sergeant Hoffman heard Mason behind him, whirled, and grinned as he saw the steaming cups of coffee.
“Okay, Mason,” he said, “that’s going to come in pretty handy. Drink one of these,Griffin, and you’ll feel better.”
Griffin nodded. “It looks good, but I feel all right now.”
Mason handed him a cup of coffee.
“Do you know anything about a will?” asked Sergeant Hoffman, abruptly.
“I’d rather not answer that, if you don’t mind, Sergeant,”Griffin answered.
Hoffman took himself a cup of coffee. “It happens that I do mind,” he commented. “I want you to answer that question.”
“Yes, there’s a will,”Griffin admitted.
“Where is it?” asked Hoffman.
“I don’t know.”
“How do you know there is one?”
“He showed it to me.”
“Does the property all go to his wife?”
Griffin shook his head.