"Gardner, Erle Stanley - Perry Mason 067 - The Case of the Blonde Bonanza" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Earle Stanley)

"That's anybody's guess. The registration is in the name of Paul Drake as an individual and, of course, in order to comply with California law there's a certificate of registration in a cellophane window strapped to the steering post."
"So Dillard sat tight?"
"Dillard sat tight but he's afraid he's been spotted and he wants instructions."
Mason thought for a minute, then said, "Tell him to stay right there in the unit and keep his eye on the unit where Boring is staying. I want to know everyone who comes to see Boring and I want to know what time Boring goes out."
"But suppose Boring does go out. Does Dillard try to shadow him?"
"No," Mason said. "It would be too dangerous under the circumstances. He'd be spotted even if he was using an electronic shadowing device. He'll just have to sit tight."
"The guy hasn't had any dinner," Nye said. "He's a big guy and he gets hungry."
"Well, I don't want to take a chance on letting him go out, at any rate while Boring is there. Do you folks have a good woman operative up here?"
"Not up here but we could probably get one. What do you want?"
"A good-looking woman could go into Dillard's apartment looking as though she were some married woman on a surreptitious date and probably smuggle Dillard in something to eat. It wouldn't be what he wants, but she could get some hamburgers and a Thermos jug of coffee and carry them in. Then if Boring is turning the tables on Dillard and keeping an eye on Dillard's apartment, the fact that this woman goes in there with just the right furtive attitude will probably reassure Boring and, at the same time, give Dillard something to eat."
"Can do," Nye said. "But it will take a couple of hours."
"Anything else new?" Mason asked.
"That seems to be it at the moment, but probably you'd better call Paul, let him know that you're here and that you and I have been in touch--or would you rather I just reported to Paul?"
"No, I'll call him," Mason said. "Get him on the phone, Della."
Mason turned back to Nye and said, "Sit back and relax and tell me something about George Winlock, because I'm going to talk with the guy."
"There isn't much to tell. He's a chap who came here about fourteen years ago and got a job as a real estate salesman. He was a hard worker and a good salesman. He made a couple of big commissions; then he had a chance to tie up some property that he thought was good subdivision property and instead of simply taking a listing on it he took an option--paid every cent he had for a ninety-day option, then got busy and peddled it for a hundred thousand profit. From that time on he started pyramiding. The guy has brains, all right, and he's a shrewd operator. But he keeps pretty much in the background."
"What about his wife?"
"She's inclined to be just a little snooty; puts on airs, is just a little bit patronizing as far as the local society is concerned, and while they kowtow to her because of her social position, I have a feeling she wouldn't win any popularity contests if there was a secret ballot, but she'd probably be elected Queen of the May if the feminine voters had to stand up and be counted."
"What about her son?"
"Marvin Harvey Palmer is one of those things," Nye said. "We're getting too many of them. He apparently feels that there's never going to be the slightest necessity for him to do any work and he doesn't intend to try. He's an addict for sports cars, a devil with the women, has been picked up a couple of times for drunk driving, but has managed to square the rap somewhere along the line, and-- Oh, hell, Perry, you know the picture."
Della Street said, "Here's Paul Drake on the line, Chief."
Mason crossed over to the telephone.
Drake said, "Hello, Perry. I'm going to give you a description of a man and you can tell me if it means anything to you."
"Go ahead."
"Five-foot eight or nine; weight about a hundred and thirty-five pounds, bony shoulders; high cheekbones; very dark but rather small eyes, and a pointed nose that's quite prominent. He's in his late thirties or early forties, quick-moving, nervous--"
"You are describing Mr. Montrose Foster," Mason interrupted. "He's the president of Missing Heirs and Lost Estates, Incorporated, and he called on me trying to pump me for information. Harrison Boring worked for him before branching out on his own."
"He's found Dianne Alder."
"The hell he has."
"That's right."
"How did he find her?"
"I'm darned if I know, Perry. He nosed her out some way. The guy probably is pretty smart. He seems to be a fast worker.
"I think he traced Harrison Boring to Bolero Beach and when he got to inquiring around Bolero Beach he found out that Boring was interested in Dianne Alder.
"Now, it's anybody's guess whether Foster did a little snooping around and found out what Boring's deal with Dianne was, and took it from there; or whether he decided to work fast and go shake Dianne down and see what she'd tell him.
"One thing is certain. Dianne became very much upset as a result of his visit, and shortly after he left, Dianne got her car and droveoff in a rush."
"You're not having her tailed?" Mason asked.
"No. You didn't tell me to. As it happened, the Bolero Beach operative who was nosing around on Boring's back track happened to learn that this character with the pointed nose had been making inquiries about Boring, and so he tried to pick the guy up. He ran into him just as Foster was leaving Dianne's apartment. Then Dianne came out within about ten minutes, jumped in her car and took off in a hurry."
"How long ago?"
"An hour or an hour and a half."
Mason said, "Your man, Moose Dillard, who was shadowing Boring, seems to have attracted Boring's attention. Boring detected the other tail he was wearing and then spotted Dillard when Dillard registered in the Restawhile Motel. He went over to take a look at Dillard's automobile. That car is registered in your name."
"So I understand," Drake said. "I have a report on it. What are you goi to do about Dillard?"
"I'm talking with Sid Nye now," Mason said. "Sid is in my suite here in the hotel. I told him to have Dillard stay put. We'll get some woman operative to look as though she's keeping a motel date with him, and take some sandwiches and a Thermos jug of coffee in to him. He can, of course, get a line on anyone who comes to see Boring there at the motel but his efficiency is pretty much impaired as far as we're concerned."
"How about putting another shadow on Boring?"
"I don't know," Mason said. "I don't think it's going to be necessary. I've decided to cut the Gordian knot by getting in touch with the man about whom this whole thing revolves."
"Who's that?"
"George D. Winlock."
"Winlock!" Drake said.
"Right."
"You've decided he's the one Dianne was picked out for?"
"No. I'm approaching the problem from another angle, Paul. I've come to the conclusion Winlock holds the key to the entire situation."
"Can you discuss it over the phone?"