Read Online The Case of the Fenced-In Woman by Erle Stanley Gardner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erle Stanley Gardner
Tags: Fiction, General, LEGAL, Mystery & Detective, Crime, Detective and Mystery Stories, Perry (Fictitious Character), Mason
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examine the source of the light and found two little pools of water, perhaps no more than three teaspoons of water in each pool, and directly between them the mark of a foot where evidently one of the reporters had been standing in such a way that he caused water from the edge of one of the little pools to spread into a muddy smear.
Hurriedly Mason moved to the door which opened onto the patio and looked across to the swimming pool.
There could be no question that there had been activity around the pool. There was still a puddle in a shaded section of the tiles on Morley Eden's side, and on the sunny side at the shallow end there were very definite indications of recent moisture.
Mason turned and hurried back into the house.
"Morley," he called. "Oh, Morley."
They met in the hall, Morley Eden emerging from the direction of the bedrooms.
"Any more phones in this house?" Mason asked.
"Not on this side. There's one in the other side."
"A main line?"
"A main line."
"You have a key that will fit that side of the house?"
"Sure I have a key. That is, it used to fit, but I don't dare use it. I-"
"Give it to me," Mason said.
Eden hesitated for a moment. "You know you could get in trouble with this and-"
"Give me the key," Mason told him. "Hurry!"
Eden took a leather key container from his pocket, selected a key and unsnapped it from the container. "This did fit the side door," he said. "I don't know whether it does now…"
Mason didn't wait to hear him but, grabbing the key, dashed out through the door, hesitated a moment as he surveyed the fence, then decided he could make better time rounding the fence in his car than by trying to run for it. He jumped in the car, switched on the ignition and sent gravel flying as he spun the wheels in taking off down the driveway.
When he came to the heavy post embedded in cement, the lawyer slammed on the brakes, whipped the car into a skid – ding turn around the end of the fence, dashed up the driveway on the other side of the house, stopped his car directly in front of the side door, ran up the steps and fitted his key.
The key clicked back the lock.
Mason hurried into the house through the utility room, looking frantically for the telephone, found it in the kitchen, picked up the receiver and dialed the number of Paul Drake's office.
A few seconds later, when he heard Drake's voice on the line, Mason said, "Paul, this is Perry. Get this; get it right, get it first and get started."
"Okay, go ahead."
"Nadine Palmer, a divorcee living at 1721 Crockley Avenue, left her apartment house with me about an hour ago, maybe a little longer. When we reached the main intersection – there's a row of apartments there called Nester Hill-she saw a cab standing at the place reserved for a two – cab stand on the right – hand curb. She took that cab and went somewhere. I want to find out where she went. When you find her, I want her tailed.
"You're going to have to contact the cab company. You're going to have to find out what cab was there. You're going to have to find out where it went. You're going to have to pick up the trail of Nadine Palmer and do it fast. I want to know everywhere she goes. I want to know everyone she sees. I want to get the whole dope on her and I don't want her to know it, and I don't want anyone to-"
Mason turned abruptly as he heard an exclamation from behind him.
Vivian Carson, her arms full of grocery bags, stood in the doorway looking at him with indignation.
"Well," she said sarcastically, "make yourself right at home, Mr. Mason! If there's anything you want, just go ahead and take it."
"I'm sorry," Mason said, hanging up the phone, "I had to get to a telephone in a hurry."
"So it would seem," she said. "I heard your instructions. I presume it's all right to eavesdrop in one's own house."
Mason said, "I'm sorry."
"I'm afraid simply saying you're sorry isn't going to be enough. I regard this as a deliberate violation of Judge Goodwin's
Hurriedly Mason moved to the door which opened onto the patio and looked across to the swimming pool.
There could be no question that there had been activity around the pool. There was still a puddle in a shaded section of the tiles on Morley Eden's side, and on the sunny side at the shallow end there were very definite indications of recent moisture.
Mason turned and hurried back into the house.
"Morley," he called. "Oh, Morley."
They met in the hall, Morley Eden emerging from the direction of the bedrooms.
"Any more phones in this house?" Mason asked.
"Not on this side. There's one in the other side."
"A main line?"
"A main line."
"You have a key that will fit that side of the house?"
"Sure I have a key. That is, it used to fit, but I don't dare use it. I-"
"Give it to me," Mason said.
Eden hesitated for a moment. "You know you could get in trouble with this and-"
"Give me the key," Mason told him. "Hurry!"
Eden took a leather key container from his pocket, selected a key and unsnapped it from the container. "This did fit the side door," he said. "I don't know whether it does now…"
Mason didn't wait to hear him but, grabbing the key, dashed out through the door, hesitated a moment as he surveyed the fence, then decided he could make better time rounding the fence in his car than by trying to run for it. He jumped in the car, switched on the ignition and sent gravel flying as he spun the wheels in taking off down the driveway.
When he came to the heavy post embedded in cement, the lawyer slammed on the brakes, whipped the car into a skid – ding turn around the end of the fence, dashed up the driveway on the other side of the house, stopped his car directly in front of the side door, ran up the steps and fitted his key.
The key clicked back the lock.
Mason hurried into the house through the utility room, looking frantically for the telephone, found it in the kitchen, picked up the receiver and dialed the number of Paul Drake's office.
A few seconds later, when he heard Drake's voice on the line, Mason said, "Paul, this is Perry. Get this; get it right, get it first and get started."
"Okay, go ahead."
"Nadine Palmer, a divorcee living at 1721 Crockley Avenue, left her apartment house with me about an hour ago, maybe a little longer. When we reached the main intersection – there's a row of apartments there called Nester Hill-she saw a cab standing at the place reserved for a two – cab stand on the right – hand curb. She took that cab and went somewhere. I want to find out where she went. When you find her, I want her tailed.
"You're going to have to contact the cab company. You're going to have to find out what cab was there. You're going to have to find out where it went. You're going to have to pick up the trail of Nadine Palmer and do it fast. I want to know everywhere she goes. I want to know everyone she sees. I want to get the whole dope on her and I don't want her to know it, and I don't want anyone to-"
Mason turned abruptly as he heard an exclamation from behind him.
Vivian Carson, her arms full of grocery bags, stood in the doorway looking at him with indignation.
"Well," she said sarcastically, "make yourself right at home, Mr. Mason! If there's anything you want, just go ahead and take it."
"I'm sorry," Mason said, hanging up the phone, "I had to get to a telephone in a hurry."
"So it would seem," she said. "I heard your instructions. I presume it's all right to eavesdrop in one's own house."
Mason said, "I'm sorry."
"I'm afraid simply saying you're sorry isn't going to be enough. I regard this as a deliberate violation of Judge Goodwin's
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