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

There were no lights on inside the unit. The big lumbering individual who hulked in the doorway said in a husky voice, "Come on in."
"No lights?" Nye asked.
"No lights," Dillard said, and closed the door behind them. "Don't stumble over anything. Your eyes'll get accustomed to the darkness in a minute. I'm sitting here at the window with the curtains parted so I can get a line on what's happening."
"What is happening?"
"I don't know. The police are there now, and the ambulance left just a few minutes ago."
"The ambulance?" Nye said.
"That's right. They took him away."
"Who? Boring?"
"Right."
Nye said, "You know Perry Mason, Moose."
"Sure," Moose said, his hand groping for Mason's in the dark. "How are you, Mr. Mason? Haven't seen you for a while."
Then he said, by way of explanation to Nye, "Mason got me out of a jam a while back."
"I know," Nye said. "Just wanted to be sure you recognized him in the dark. Now, what's been happening out here?"
"Plenty has been happening," Dillard said, "but what it's all about is more than I know. Boring was having a convention. All sorts of people coming and going. Then the girl showed up and left in a hurry and about ten minutes after she left the cops came. I wanted to keep casing the joint and didn't want to give a tip-off to the manager. I had a hell of a time getting anyone on the phone. Whatever was happening, it took their attention off the switchboard. Finally I managed to get them to answer.-- You can't get an outside line on these phones unless they connect you.-- I guess I was all of five minutes jiggling that hook up and down, putting the light on and off, waiting for someone to answer."
"All right," Nye said, "they answered. "Was there anything unusual? Did they apologize or make any explanation?"
"Not a word. Someone said, 'Manager's office,' and I said, 'I want to get an outside line,' and the manger said, 'You can't dial a number from this phone. You have to give me the number and I connect you.' So I gave them the number of the Tri-Counties and asked for you. I was pretty certain they were listening on the line. I could hear breathing. So I just told you, 'Hey Rube,' and hung up. I figured that would get you here as quick as anything and I didn't want to ask you to come rushing out because I knew you'd ask questions and if I started answering questions we'd have this unit. under surveillance and that might not be the thing you wanted."
"That's good thinking," Mason said. "What happened after that?"
"An ambulance came right after I hung up. They took him out on a stretcher."
"He isn't dead then," Mason said.
"It was an ambulance, not a meat wagon. I don't know what sort of a system they use here but I have an idea the ambulance means the guy's hurt."
"All right," Mason said, "let's find out what happened. Who came here?"
"I can't give you names," Dillard said. "I can give you one license number and some descriptions. That's all I have to go on at the present time."
"You were watching through the window?"
"Had the lights out and the curtains parted and a pair of eye-glass binoculars. Those have about a two and a half power magnification; and then I've got an eightpower binocular here that is a night glass. I use it on surveillance jobs of this sort."
"All right, what can you give us?" Mason asked.
"I can't give you too much without turning the light on so I can read my notes. I made the notes in the dark."
"Tell us what you can remember."
"First rattle out of the box," Dillard said, "there was this fellow who's been prowling around Bolero Beach; a slim, fast-moving guy with a mosquito beak for a nose."
"His name's Montrose Foster," Mason said. "He's the president, whatever that means, of Missing Heirs and Lost Estates, Inc. Boring was working for him until he suddenly quit his job, and Foster thinks Boring hit some pay dirt that he didn't want to share with anyone."
"Could be," Dillard said. "Anyway, this fellow came in around eight and he was there about fifteen minutes. I've got the times marked down."
"Now, you could see all of these people all right?" Mason asked.
"Sure. There was some daylight when this man you call Foster was here. And later on there's enough light here in the parking place so I could see people well enough to identify them."
"Okay," Mason said. "Then what happened?"
"Well, for about five minutes after this man Foster left there was nothing doing. I kept thinking our man would go out to dinner hut he didn't. He seemed to be waiting for someone or something. And then, around twenty minutes past eight, this kid driving a sports car showed up and boy, was he making time. He slammed that sports car into the entrance and wham! right up to Unit Number io. He jumped out and was inside all in one motion. it was getting dark then."
"Did he knock on the door?" Mason asked.
"He knocked."
"How old was this man?"
"Around twenty-two to twenty-three; somewhere in there; driving a high-powered foreign sports model. He parked it at such an angle I couldn't get the license number."
"On a guess," Mason said, "that was Marvin Harvey Palmer.
"All right, how long did he stay?"
"Somewhere around fifteen minutes. Then he left and a woman came in, a woman about forty, and boy, was she worked up! She went in the minute the kid went out. She was just as stately as you please, and she was in there nearly ten minutes. Then she came out, and that's when the man went in. Now, this man had been waiting. He'd seen the woman's car and recognized it, or had seen the woman or something; anyway, he'd parked his car down at the far end of the parking place here, then he'd seen the woman's car and he'd driven out, parked his car in the street someplace and walked in and hung around in the shadows down at the far end waiting for the woman to leave. He was a dignified guy wearing dark glasses. The minute the woman left he hot-footed it across to Unit 10, banged on the door and went in and was there about five minutes. He came out and things simmered down for about ten minutes and then this blonde came in and boy, was she a knockout. . . . I got the license number on _her_ car."
"Did you get a good look at her?" Mason asked.
"I'll say I got a good look at her. She parked the car and opened the door on the left-hand side and slid out from behind the steering wheel. Believe me she was in a hurry and she didn't care how she looked when she got out--she was just getting out.
"Unit 10 was on the other side of the car from her and when she opened the door and slid out she was coming right toward me. Her skirt just rolled up under her and-- Boy, oh, boy, talk about legs!"
"Let's go a little higher than the legs," Mason said. "What about her face?"
"Around twenty-four or so; blonde, tall, and my God, what a figure! She really filled out her clothes."
"All right," Mason said, "this is important. Now, what time did she go in and how long was she in there?"
"She went in about ten minutes after the man left and she was in there, I guess, ten or fifteen minutes. And when she came out she was all excited. Boy, was _she_ running! She made a dive for her car. This time she went in the door that was on the right-hand side and slid across the seat. She threw the car into reverse and whipped out of here in such a hurry that she forgot to turn her headlights on. I've got the time written down in my notebook."
"And after that?" Mason asked.
"After that, everything was quiet for a couple of minutes. Then the manager came down and pounded on the door and after a while opened the door and went in. Then she came out on the run and a few minutes after that the police came."