Read Online The Case of the Singing Skirt by Erle Stanley Gardner - Free Book Online
Authors: Erle Stanley Gardner
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Paul Drake's investigation shows that it's George Anclitas' gun, it will be right back in George Anclitas' place of business and no one can ever prove it had been missing."
"Is that legal?"
Mason said, "I know of no law which keeps one from returning lost property to the owner."
CHAPTER SIX
When Della Street had returned from Paul Drake's office, after leaving the gun with him, Mason said, "Let's get Gowrie on the phone, Della. I want to see how he's feeling this morning."
Della Street put through the call, nodded to Perry Mason.
Mason picked up the telephone, said, "Hello, Gowrie. Perry Mason speaking."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Mason. How are you today?"
"Pretty good. My secretary and I want to sit in on your talk to the women's club at Rowena, Gowrie. We may have some trouble getting in, but if you would invite us as your guests we probably wouldn't have any trouble."
Gowrie hesitated a moment.
"You there?" Mason asked.
"I'm here," Gowrie said. "I was just trying to marshal my thoughts."
"What about your thoughts?" Mason said. "Why do they need marshaling?"
"I am not going to make the talk at Rowena."
"You're not?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, Mrs. Ellis hasn't completed the arrangements that she had agreed on."
"What do you mean?"
"I was to receive a fee from the women's club for the talk, and there was to be a retainer in connection with her case."
"She hasn't paid anything?"
"Not a cent. And I can't reach her. I can't find her. Apparently she went yachting. Under the circumstances, I rang up the president of the Rowena Women's Club and told her that the talk would have to be postponed."
"Like that, eh?" Mason asked.
"Like that," Gowrie said. "You know how it is yourself, Counselor. A lawyer can't go around giving his services away."
"All right," Mason said. "Let me know when you hear from Mrs. Ellis, will you?"
Mason hung up the phone. "Did you listen in on that, Della?"
She nodded.
"Well," Mason said, "I guess there's nothing much to be done at the present time."
"Except that mail file," she said. "We still haven't got at those important letters."
Mason sighed, picked up the mail file and spent the rest of the day in dictation.
In the late afternoon Paul Drake's code knock sounded on the door.
Della Street got up to let him in.
Paul Drake stretched himself out on the big overstuffed chair in the lawyer's office and said, "What the hell have you been doing, Perry, juggling guns again?"
"Why the again?" Mason asked.
Drake said, "I don't know, but any time you get in a case and a gun figures in it, you certainly seem to play three-card monte with the prosecution and the police."
"Anything wrong with that?" Mason asked.
"Not if you get away with it," Drake said.
"And what brings up all those remarks?" Mason asked.
"That gun you wanted me to trace-a.38 Smith Sc Wesson number C 48809."
"What about it?"
"It's one of four guns that were purchased, all on the same date, by W. W. Marcus, full name Wilton Winslow Marcus. He's supposed to be some sort of a silent partner of George Anclitas in a restaurant deal in Rowena. The restaurant is mostly a front for gambling."
"Permit?" Mason asked.
"Apparently no permit. They own the chief of police at Rowena. He appointed them some sort of special officers. Apparently both Anclitas and Marcus are specials. That gives them an opportunity to carry firearms without any written permit other than their authorization as special officers."
"And this gun is one of the four that were purchased?"
Drake nodded.
"All right. What else?" Mason asked.
"I had a ballistics expert fire test bullets from it and then replace the cartridges that were in the gun just as they were when you handed them to me."
"And the test bullets have all been marked for identification?"
Drake nodded.
"Okay," Mason said. "Where's the gun?"
Drake took the gun from his pocket and handed it to Mason. "You be careful you don't get into trouble with that," Drake said.
"What sort of
"Is that legal?"
Mason said, "I know of no law which keeps one from returning lost property to the owner."
CHAPTER SIX
When Della Street had returned from Paul Drake's office, after leaving the gun with him, Mason said, "Let's get Gowrie on the phone, Della. I want to see how he's feeling this morning."
Della Street put through the call, nodded to Perry Mason.
Mason picked up the telephone, said, "Hello, Gowrie. Perry Mason speaking."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Mason. How are you today?"
"Pretty good. My secretary and I want to sit in on your talk to the women's club at Rowena, Gowrie. We may have some trouble getting in, but if you would invite us as your guests we probably wouldn't have any trouble."
Gowrie hesitated a moment.
"You there?" Mason asked.
"I'm here," Gowrie said. "I was just trying to marshal my thoughts."
"What about your thoughts?" Mason said. "Why do they need marshaling?"
"I am not going to make the talk at Rowena."
"You're not?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, Mrs. Ellis hasn't completed the arrangements that she had agreed on."
"What do you mean?"
"I was to receive a fee from the women's club for the talk, and there was to be a retainer in connection with her case."
"She hasn't paid anything?"
"Not a cent. And I can't reach her. I can't find her. Apparently she went yachting. Under the circumstances, I rang up the president of the Rowena Women's Club and told her that the talk would have to be postponed."
"Like that, eh?" Mason asked.
"Like that," Gowrie said. "You know how it is yourself, Counselor. A lawyer can't go around giving his services away."
"All right," Mason said. "Let me know when you hear from Mrs. Ellis, will you?"
Mason hung up the phone. "Did you listen in on that, Della?"
She nodded.
"Well," Mason said, "I guess there's nothing much to be done at the present time."
"Except that mail file," she said. "We still haven't got at those important letters."
Mason sighed, picked up the mail file and spent the rest of the day in dictation.
In the late afternoon Paul Drake's code knock sounded on the door.
Della Street got up to let him in.
Paul Drake stretched himself out on the big overstuffed chair in the lawyer's office and said, "What the hell have you been doing, Perry, juggling guns again?"
"Why the again?" Mason asked.
Drake said, "I don't know, but any time you get in a case and a gun figures in it, you certainly seem to play three-card monte with the prosecution and the police."
"Anything wrong with that?" Mason asked.
"Not if you get away with it," Drake said.
"And what brings up all those remarks?" Mason asked.
"That gun you wanted me to trace-a.38 Smith Sc Wesson number C 48809."
"What about it?"
"It's one of four guns that were purchased, all on the same date, by W. W. Marcus, full name Wilton Winslow Marcus. He's supposed to be some sort of a silent partner of George Anclitas in a restaurant deal in Rowena. The restaurant is mostly a front for gambling."
"Permit?" Mason asked.
"Apparently no permit. They own the chief of police at Rowena. He appointed them some sort of special officers. Apparently both Anclitas and Marcus are specials. That gives them an opportunity to carry firearms without any written permit other than their authorization as special officers."
"And this gun is one of the four that were purchased?"
Drake nodded.
"All right. What else?" Mason asked.
"I had a ballistics expert fire test bullets from it and then replace the cartridges that were in the gun just as they were when you handed them to me."
"And the test bullets have all been marked for identification?"
Drake nodded.
"Okay," Mason said. "Where's the gun?"
Drake took the gun from his pocket and handed it to Mason. "You be careful you don't get into trouble with that," Drake said.
"What sort of
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