Read Online The Case of the Sulky Girl by Erle Stanley Gardner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Erle Stanley Gardner
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Don't listen to her. Talk to her. Make her mad and then see what she says."
And the woman turned and walked from the room with quick, vigorous strides, a veritable bundle of energy.
Perry Mason stared at her broad back until she had left his field of vision. His eyes were clouded with speculation.
He was standing so, when a man with keen gray eyes and bushy white hair came walking through the room beyond, to the door of the solarium. His manner was grave and dignified, his walk unhurried, his face placidly serene.
Perry Mason bowed to him.
"Judge Purley," he said, "I have practiced before you, Judge."
The judge fastened his keen eyes upon the attorney, and nodded.
"Perry Mason, I believe. Good evening, Mr. Mason."
"We can call it morning, I think," said Mason. "It will be daylight pretty soon."
Judge Purley frowned.
"I was in a hurry to get home too," he said. "I was very, very tired."
"The police about finished with their investigation?" asked Mason.
"I think so," said Purley. "They've got the man who did it, beyond any doubt."
"This chap, Devoe?" asked Mason.
"That's the chap. He made rather a bungling job of it, too, if you ask me."
"I didn't get the details," said Mason invitingly.
Judge Purley selected one of the reclining chairs, stretched himself in it, gave a sigh of weariness, and took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket.
He carefully clipped off the end of the cigar, smelled the wrapper and muttered: "Pardon me, Mr. Mason, but this is my last, and I need it."
"Go right ahead," said Mason. "I only smoke cigarettes anyway."
"Yes," said the judge, speaking gravely and judiciously, in measured tones, "the thing that confused the murderer, of course, was the fact that our machine turned around and came directly back to the house. He had counted on an interval of half an hour or so during which he could have masked his crime.
"However, when he heard us returning to the house, he knew that the only thing for him to do was to get into bed and pretend he was dead drunk. He managed to get the odor of whisky pretty well on his breath, and put up rather a credible imitation of intoxication.
"In fact, it is possible he imbibed enough so that he was genuinely intoxicated. A man can drink a lot of whisky in a short time."
Perry Mason smiled.
"That is, judge," he said, "if he has it to drink."
The judge saw no humor in the remark. He looked at Perry Mason with judicial appraisal.
"Well," he said, "this man had plenty to drink."
"He's the chauffeur, I believe?" asked Mason.
"Yes, the chauffeur."
"Wasn't he going out some place?" asked Mason. "Didn't Norton telephone for him to take one of the cars and run an errand?"
"If my understanding is correct," said Judge Purley, "that is what happened. Norton wanted his secretary to get some papers at Mr. Crinston's house, and the chauffeur was to go and pick him up."
Perry Mason eyed the judge in shrewd appraisal.
"Well," he said, "let's see if we can figure out what happened. Norton asked you to permit Graves to ride in your car, is that right?"
"That is correct. That is, Norton addressed his comment, I believe, to Mr. Crinston, but I, of course, heard it. He called out the window."
"Okay, then," said Mason. "Let's start from there. Graves went downstairs to join you two. It's reasonable to suppose that Norton then sent for the chauffeur. He probably simply told him to come to his office. Now, it would have taken the chauffeur a minute or two to get there."
"That's right," said Judge Purley wearily. "But if you'll pardon me, counselor, I don't see as there's anything to be gained by going over the ground."
"No," said Perry Mason, almost dreamily, "I was just wondering how much time the two men had to quarrel."
"What do you mean?" asked Judge Purley with sudden interest.
"If," said Perry Mason, "the murder was committed by the time your car had arrived at the top of the hill, and if during that time Norton had summoned the chauffeur, and there had been a
And the woman turned and walked from the room with quick, vigorous strides, a veritable bundle of energy.
Perry Mason stared at her broad back until she had left his field of vision. His eyes were clouded with speculation.
He was standing so, when a man with keen gray eyes and bushy white hair came walking through the room beyond, to the door of the solarium. His manner was grave and dignified, his walk unhurried, his face placidly serene.
Perry Mason bowed to him.
"Judge Purley," he said, "I have practiced before you, Judge."
The judge fastened his keen eyes upon the attorney, and nodded.
"Perry Mason, I believe. Good evening, Mr. Mason."
"We can call it morning, I think," said Mason. "It will be daylight pretty soon."
Judge Purley frowned.
"I was in a hurry to get home too," he said. "I was very, very tired."
"The police about finished with their investigation?" asked Mason.
"I think so," said Purley. "They've got the man who did it, beyond any doubt."
"This chap, Devoe?" asked Mason.
"That's the chap. He made rather a bungling job of it, too, if you ask me."
"I didn't get the details," said Mason invitingly.
Judge Purley selected one of the reclining chairs, stretched himself in it, gave a sigh of weariness, and took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket.
He carefully clipped off the end of the cigar, smelled the wrapper and muttered: "Pardon me, Mr. Mason, but this is my last, and I need it."
"Go right ahead," said Mason. "I only smoke cigarettes anyway."
"Yes," said the judge, speaking gravely and judiciously, in measured tones, "the thing that confused the murderer, of course, was the fact that our machine turned around and came directly back to the house. He had counted on an interval of half an hour or so during which he could have masked his crime.
"However, when he heard us returning to the house, he knew that the only thing for him to do was to get into bed and pretend he was dead drunk. He managed to get the odor of whisky pretty well on his breath, and put up rather a credible imitation of intoxication.
"In fact, it is possible he imbibed enough so that he was genuinely intoxicated. A man can drink a lot of whisky in a short time."
Perry Mason smiled.
"That is, judge," he said, "if he has it to drink."
The judge saw no humor in the remark. He looked at Perry Mason with judicial appraisal.
"Well," he said, "this man had plenty to drink."
"He's the chauffeur, I believe?" asked Mason.
"Yes, the chauffeur."
"Wasn't he going out some place?" asked Mason. "Didn't Norton telephone for him to take one of the cars and run an errand?"
"If my understanding is correct," said Judge Purley, "that is what happened. Norton wanted his secretary to get some papers at Mr. Crinston's house, and the chauffeur was to go and pick him up."
Perry Mason eyed the judge in shrewd appraisal.
"Well," he said, "let's see if we can figure out what happened. Norton asked you to permit Graves to ride in your car, is that right?"
"That is correct. That is, Norton addressed his comment, I believe, to Mr. Crinston, but I, of course, heard it. He called out the window."
"Okay, then," said Mason. "Let's start from there. Graves went downstairs to join you two. It's reasonable to suppose that Norton then sent for the chauffeur. He probably simply told him to come to his office. Now, it would have taken the chauffeur a minute or two to get there."
"That's right," said Judge Purley wearily. "But if you'll pardon me, counselor, I don't see as there's anything to be gained by going over the ground."
"No," said Perry Mason, almost dreamily, "I was just wondering how much time the two men had to quarrel."
"What do you mean?" asked Judge Purley with sudden interest.
"If," said Perry Mason, "the murder was committed by the time your car had arrived at the top of the hill, and if during that time Norton had summoned the chauffeur, and there had been a
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