"Gardner, Erle Stanley - Perry Mason 072 - The Case of the Daring Divorcee" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Earle Stanley)

"Good heavens! Then somebody has been here and--"
The door from the bedroom opened. A woman wearing a bathing cap with a robe draped around her stood looking at them with indignant eyes.
"Go right ahead," she said. "Make yourself right at home! Don't mind me."
"I'm terribly sorry," Mason said, "but I had no idea you were home. I knocked and rang the bell. I telephoned you earlier in the day and had no answer."
"I've been in Los Angeles all day," she said. "Now will you kindly tell me who you are, how you got in and what you want, or shall I call the police?"
Mason said, "I'm Perry Mason, an attorney in Los Angeles. Why didn't you return to my office?"
"_Return_ to your office?" she asked.
"Yes."
She said, "I've never been in your office in my life and I have an idea that you're not a lawyer at all. Who's that with you?"
"Miss Della Street, my secretary," Mason said.
"How did you get in?"
"We used your key," Mason said.
"What do you mean, _my_ key?"
"Exactly what I said. You left your key in my office-- together with some other things."
She said, "If you don't get out of here I'm going to--"
Abruptly she turned and raced into the bedroom, leaving the bedroom door open.
Mason saw her whip open a drawer in a bedstand, then plunge her hand inside, grope around for a moment, then turn back to the door with an expression of amazement on her face.
She whirled and picked up a telephone by the side of the bed.
"I think I'd better get the police after all," she said.
"Wait a minute," Mason told her, "are you quite sure you want the police?"
"Why not?"
Mason said, "You left your handbag in my office, you know. There were quite a few things in it."
"_My_ handbag in _your_ office?"
"Yes. Didn't you miss it?"
Slowly she lowered her hand and dropped the telephone back into its cradle.
"Now," she said, "I think you had better start talking."
Mason said, "I think _you'd_ better take the initiative, Mrs. Hastings. I can assure you that I'm here because I was trying to help you. I was very much concerned about you when you didn't return to my office and I found that you had left your handbag, your purse, driving licenses, keys and . . - that other thing."
"What other thing?"
Mason indicated the bedstand with its open drawer. "The thing you pretended to be tooking for just now, and I would like to compliment you on your acting ability. I certainly hope you can do as well when you get in front of a jury."
She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "Mr. Mason--if you really are Perry Mason--do you have my handbag?"
Mason nodded.
"How did you get it?"
"You came to my office a little after noon today and left it there when you went out."
"I wasn't in your office at all. I have heard the name Perry Mason. I lived in Los Angeles with my husband for some time and have seen your name mentioned in the papers from time to time. I have never been in your office in my life."
"Your bag?" Mason asked.
"My bag was stolen from my automobile sometime yesterday. I was in Los Angeles. I wanted cigarettes. I found a parking place in front of a store, grabbed a dollar bill from my change purse, dashed into the store, picked up a package of cigarettes and-- Well, when I came out my purse was gone--although I didn't miss it until later.''
"I see," Mason said, smiling slightly. "Now, if you had the presence of mind to complain to the police that your purse had been stolen, you just _might_ have a story the jury would believe."
"Why should there be a jury? Why shouldn't they believe my story? What possible object would I have in making up such a story?"
"I take it then you didn't complain to the police."
"As a matter of fact I didn't, although I don't see where it concerns you in the least."
"Why didn't you complain to the police?"
"Because," she said, "for one thing, I didn't know it was gone until I arrived at my home in Los Angeles and looked for my key and found the whole bag was gone.
"You see, I was on my way to keep an appointment with my husband. I was afraid I was going to be late and he is a stickler for promptness, so I was in a hurry. For that reason I didn't put the cigarettes in my bag but just tossed them on the seat. The bag must have been gone at that time. In fact, that was the only time it could have been taken, but I didn't notice it until I got to my house and reached for my key container."
"Why didn't you notify the police then?" Mason asked.
"My husband said it would be a waste of time and-- Well, he didn't want it known that I was spending the night there in our house. You see, we've separated and--"
"Was your reluctance to call the police due in part to the fact that there was something else in your bag?" Mason asked. "The something that you were looking for just now in the drawer by the side of the bed?"
"The gun?" she asked.
"Yes."
"My gun wasn't in the handbag," she said. "For all I knew it was in that drawer in the stand by the bed. Someone evidently has taken the gun, presumably the same person who stole my handbag, since the keys to this apartment were in the handbag--and now you show up with those keys. Perhaps it is your story that should be checked, Mr. Mason."
"You didn't take the gun with you on your trip to Los Angeles?"