The Case of the Queenly Contestant

Mason, walking rapidly toward the officer so he could keep his voice low, said, “She’s my secretary.”

“What’s the trouble?”

“There’s a body in the house.”

“How do you know?”

“We were in there.”

“How did you get in?”

“Through the back door.”

“What were you doing prowling around the back door?”

Mason said, “We had reason to believe there was somebody home. We rang the doorbell and got no answer. I looked through the front window and could see a woman’s foot. We went around to the back of the house. The back door was unlocked; in fact, it was standing slightly ajar — open about half an inch, I would say. We went in.”

“Touch anything?” the officer asked.

“I’m afraid my client touched a few things. She became hysterical and started running through the house. She stumbled over furniture. I grabbed her, got her out here into the open air, and sent my secretary to call you.”

“Where did you have your car parked?”

“At the curb,” Mason said. “The front lawn and the driveway are rather soft. I think there’s an automatic sprinkler system which has been turned on low and has been left running for some time. I felt the body to see if there was any sign of life. The flesh is cold, lifeless and limp, which means that rigor mortis has not only formed but has had time to disappear. The soft lawn indicates the irrigation system has been on for some time. Lights are on inside the house, and I have an idea they’ve been on all day and probably all night last night.”

“We’ll take a look,” the officer said. He turned to his partner. “Call Homicide.” He said to Mason, “Get in your car and stay there. Don’t go away. Who’s the woman on the steps?”

“Come here, Ellen,” Mason said.

Ellen Adair got up and walked slowly but steadily toward the officer.

Mason said, “This is my client. She’s emotional and unstrung. She’s a responsible businesswoman; her name is Ellen Adair, and she’s head buyer for French, Coleman and Swazey, the big department store.”

“All right,” the officer said. “The three of you get in your car. I’ll just take a look at your driver’s license, Mr. Mason, if you don’t mind.”

Mason showed the officer his driver’s license.

The man in the car reported, “Homicide is on its way out here. We’re supposed to cover the premises front and back.”

“O.K., I’ll take the back,” the first officer said. “You watch the front. And keep an eye on these people. This is Perry Mason, the lawyer.”

“Don’t start around the back of the house over the lawn,” Mason said, “or the driveway. The lawn is mushy and some of the water has run into the driveway. Go around the side of the other duplex. That’s the way we went.”

“Thanks,” the officer told him. Then he asked, “How did you know the lawn is soft if you didn’t go around that way?”

“I just took two steps,” the lawyer said.

“I see,” the officer announced noncommittally, and, sending the beam of a flashlight in front of him, walked around the side of the duplex on the east to take up a station at the rear of the house.

The officer in the car said, “You three people may just as well get in your parked automobile and stay there until Homicide comes.”

Chapter Ten

Lieutenant Tragg of Homicide leaned against the door on the driver’s side of Mason’s automobile.

“How did it happen you discovered the body?” Tragg asked.

“We went to call on Agnes Burlington. We rang the doorbell; we got no answer. The lights were on. I looked through the window; I saw a woman’s foot. We went around the back of the duplex house and I saw the back door on the west unit was open a small crack.”

“So you pushed the door open and went in?”

“Right.”

“Why didn’t you telephone for the police the minute you saw the woman’s foot?”

Mason laughed. “I didn’t want to take an ordinary drunk case where a woman had had too many cocktails and had passed out and magnify it into something that would make the newspapers... and involve me in a damage suit.”

Tragg said, “For your private information. Mason, we don’t like lawyers who go around discovering bodies. You’ve done it before — too often.”

Mason said, “I’m a lawyer who gets out on the firing line. I can’t sit in an office and wait for a case to develop.”

“All right, all right,” Tragg said; “we’ve been over this before. You’re a lawyer who gets out on the firing line; you can’t sit in an office and wait for a case to develop. Now, then, what was it you couldn’t wait to have develop in this case?”

Mason said, “I have reason to believe Agnes Burlington was a witness in a case which is of some importance to a client of mine.”

“What kind of a case?”

“That,” Mason said, “I can’t discuss.”

“And what did you think Agnes Burlington was going to testify to?”

“Again, that’s something I can’t discuss.”

“Playing cozy and secretive all the time, aren’t you, Mason?”

Mason said, “I try to protect the interests of my clients.”

“All right,” Tragg said, “you went in. You found the body. You touched it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To see if she was merely unconscious.”