JК
The Case of the Velvet Claws :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 70 из 149”
Della Street’s face was white,her lips drawn into a thin, firm line. “She’s a…” she said, and stopped.
“She’s a client,” insisted Perry Mason, “and she’s paying well.”
“Paying well for what? To have you represent her in a blackmail case? Or to take a rap for murder?”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Mr. Mason,” she said, “please don’t be so damned bighearted. Keep on the outside of this thing, and let them go ahead and do whatever they want to. You simply act as an attorney and come into the case as a lawyer.”
His voice was patient. “It’s pretty late for that now, isn’t it, Della?”
“No, it isn’t. You keep out of it!”
He smiled patiently. “She’s a client, Della.”
“That’s all right,” she said, “after you get to court. You can sit back and see what happens at the trial.”
He shook his head. “No, Della, the District Attorney doesn’t wait until he gets to court. His representatives are out there right now, talking with the witnesses and putting the words in Carl Griffin’s mouth that will become newspaper headlines tomorrow and damaging testimony by the time the case comes to trial.”
She recognized the futility of further argument.
“You think they’re going to arrest the woman?” she asked.
“I don’t know what they’re going to do,” he said.
“Have they found a motive?”
“No,” he said, “they haven’t found a motive. They started looking for the conventional ones, and they didn’t pan out, so that stopped them. But when they find out about this other business, they’ll have a motive already made to order.”
“Are they going to find out about it?” she asked.
“They’re bound to.”
Della Street’s eyes suddenly widened. “Do you think,” she said, “it was Harrison Burke? The man who was out there when the shot was fired?”
“I’ve tried to get Harrison Burke on the telephone,” he said, “and haven’t been able to. Aside from that I’m not even thinking. Go on out and get on the telephone. Try him again. Keep trying his house at ten minute intervals until you get him, or get somebody.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Also, ring up Paul Drake. He’ll probably be at his office. If he isn’t, try him on that emergency telephone number we’ve got. He’s doing some work for me on this.”
She was once more merely a secretary. “Yes, Mr. Mason,” she said, and went into the other office.
Perry Mason resumed his pacing of the floor.
Della Street’s face was white,her lips drawn into a thin, firm line. “She’s a…” she said, and stopped.
“She’s a client,” insisted Perry Mason, “and she’s paying well.”
“Paying well for what? To have you represent her in a blackmail case? Or to take a rap for murder?”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Mr. Mason,” she said, “please don’t be so damned bighearted. Keep on the outside of this thing, and let them go ahead and do whatever they want to. You simply act as an attorney and come into the case as a lawyer.”
His voice was patient. “It’s pretty late for that now, isn’t it, Della?”
“No, it isn’t. You keep out of it!”
He smiled patiently. “She’s a client, Della.”
“That’s all right,” she said, “after you get to court. You can sit back and see what happens at the trial.”
He shook his head. “No, Della, the District Attorney doesn’t wait until he gets to court. His representatives are out there right now, talking with the witnesses and putting the words in Carl Griffin’s mouth that will become newspaper headlines tomorrow and damaging testimony by the time the case comes to trial.”
She recognized the futility of further argument.
“You think they’re going to arrest the woman?” she asked.
“I don’t know what they’re going to do,” he said.
“Have they found a motive?”
“No,” he said, “they haven’t found a motive. They started looking for the conventional ones, and they didn’t pan out, so that stopped them. But when they find out about this other business, they’ll have a motive already made to order.”
“Are they going to find out about it?” she asked.
“They’re bound to.”
Della Street’s eyes suddenly widened. “Do you think,” she said, “it was Harrison Burke? The man who was out there when the shot was fired?”
“I’ve tried to get Harrison Burke on the telephone,” he said, “and haven’t been able to. Aside from that I’m not even thinking. Go on out and get on the telephone. Try him again. Keep trying his house at ten minute intervals until you get him, or get somebody.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Also, ring up Paul Drake. He’ll probably be at his office. If he isn’t, try him on that emergency telephone number we’ve got. He’s doing some work for me on this.”
She was once more merely a secretary. “Yes, Mr. Mason,” she said, and went into the other office.
Perry Mason resumed his pacing of the floor.