The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom

by Erle Stanley Gardner

  They drove to the café. Garvin parked his car, got out and hurried around behind the car to open the door on his wife’s side.

  He gave her his hand. She put her own hand lightly in it, jumped to the ground with a swirl of skirts.

  Tires sounded a screaming protest as a motorist braked his big, heavy car to a sudden stop.

  They turned around, and Lorraine Garvin regarded with awakening interest the tall man who slid out from behind the steering wheel of the convertible machine with its top up and strode across toward them.

  “Good heavens!” Garvin exclaimed. “It’s Perry Mason!”

  “The lawyer?” his wife asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Mason came toward them. “I’ve had the devil of a time finding you, Garvin. A twenty-four-hour search.”

  Garvin drew up with dignity. “Darling,” he said, “may I present Mr. Mason. Mr. Mason, my wife.”

  Mason bowed, said to her, “I’m very pleased to meet you,” and to Garvin, “I must see you alone and at once.”

  “The reason you had the devil of a time finding me,” Garvin said somewhat coldly, “is that I didn’t want to be found.”

  “So I gathered,” Mason said. “However, you picked a bad time for it. Now give me five minutes, please.”

  “I’m not interested in business at the moment, but anything you have to say can be said now and here.”

  “When’s your stockholders’ meeting, Garvin?”

  “Tomorrow at two o’clock in the afternoon. I shall be there, Mason, make no mistake.”

  “You have enough proxies to control that meeting?”

  “Of course I have. Come, come, Mason, this is no time to be talking business. Furthermore, your car is blocking traffic and …”

  Mason said, “Your wife has sent out a flock of proxies in her own name. Remember her initials are also. E. C.”

  “His former wife,” Lorraine said coldly.

  “There seems to be some question about that, too,” Mason said, “Get back in your car. You’re going to Mexico.”

  “I’m going to have a dry Martini and a steak,” Lorraine said.

  “We’re dining tête-à-tête,” Garvin explained.

  “Oh come, darling, let Mr. Mason join us, and he can talk while we eat.”

  Garvin shook his head. “I’m in no mood to discuss business tonight.”

  Mason said, “Ethel has sent out proxies made out in the name of E. C. Garvin, holder of Certificate of Stock Number 123. She may have enough proxies to give her complete control of the meeting.”

  “But she can’t. I have my proxies.”

  “That were superseded by her later ones,” Mason said. “She took good care to see that hers went out after yours had been returned. The proxies contain a clause that all prior proxies are revoked.”

  “Good Lord!” Garvin said. “She’ll ruin me!”

  “Well, she’s not going to ruin my dinner Lorraine snapped.

  “Furthermore,” Mason went on, “in order to make certain that you won’t be at that stockholders’ meeting tomorrow, she has gone to the district attorney’s office and sworn to a complaint charging you with bigamy. They’re trying to arrest you right now. Apparently she …”

  “Mason, Mason, for God’s sake!” Garvin interrupted. “Don’t discuss that matter now!”

  “Then give me a chance to discuss it in private,” Mason snapped. “I’ve been scouring the state for you for the last twenty-four hours. I wasn’t doing that just for fun, you know.”

  Lorraine bristled. “What’s that about bigamy, Mr. Mason?”

  Mason said, “You may as well face the facts. Garvin, you can run away from business, but there are other things you can’t run away from. This is an issue you’re going to have to face and face fast.”

  “Edward,” Lorraine said coldly, “do you mean there’s any question about the validity of our marriage?”

  Garvin looked uncomfortably at Mason.

  Mason said, “I’ll give the facts to you straight from the shoulder. There’s all sorts of doubt about the validity of your marriage. In all probability, Ethel Carter Garvin is the only one who has any real claim to being Garvin’s wife.”

  “Edward,” Lorraine said, “you told me that she had divorced you.”

  “I thought she had.”

  “Thought!” Lorraine exclaimed. “Why, of all the …”

  “Just a minute,” Mason said. “Raising your voice isn’t going to help matters any, and this is no place for recriminations. I’m going to move my car. I suggest that you follow me. I may be able to help you.”

  “How?” Garvin asked.

  Mason said, “Let’s go to your hotel. You can get a bite to eat there if you have to have it before you start for Mexico. Get your bags packed, throw them in the car and get started for the border.”

  “Why the border?” Garvin asked.

  Mason said, “You were divorced in Mexico.”

  “Well?” Garvin inquired.

  Mason grinned. “Your Mexican divorce may not be recognized in California. Your Mexican marriage would be valid only in the event that the divorce was valid. But in Mexico, since you have a Mexican divorce and a legal marriage thereafter, you’re husband and wife.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Lorraine Garvin said, “Well, don’t stand there like a dumbbell, Edward. Can’t you realize what Mr. Mason is saying? Get that car backed out of the parking place. Let’s get to the hotel, get our bags and get the hell out of here!”

  Chapter 7

  Mason’s car followed Garvin’s convertible across the bridge below San Ysidro.

  The lights of Tijuana below the far end of the bridge were an aura against which the steady stars for the moment pitted their brilliance in vain.

  Garvin piloted his car down the wide main street and into a parking place where there was opportunity for Mason to run his car in beside theirs.

  The lawyer got out, crossed over to Garvin’s open convertible and said, “Well, here we are. You’re now husband and wife once more.”

  “Dammit, Mason,” Garvin said irritably, “tell me what I’m up against.”

  Mason said, “I don’t know. I’m going to find out as much as I can. The best way to spike her scheme on these proxies is to have enough friendly stockholders there in person to control the meeting. A proxy is always revoked when the person who gave it is present at the meeting.

  “That means you’ve got to give me a fist of big stockholders who are friendly and I’ve got to phone them. I’ve prepared papers for an injunction which I can file in court tomorrow morning if I have to, but getting your friendly stockholders to attend the meeting in person is the best way. And I’m not entirely satisfied your president and your secretary-treasurer aren’t in on the scheme.

  “So the next time you plan to skip out and leave business behind, let your lawyer know where you are. I had detectives scouring the country for you. One of them finally located a filling station attendant in La Jolla who remembered your convertible and said you’d been asking about a hotel. So I drove down.”

  Lorraine Garvin said, “Well, I’m starved. Personally I’m going to have something to eat right now.”

  “There’s a restaurant two doors down,” Mason told her. “You can find a place to stay here tonight. Tomorrow you can go on down to Ensenada if you want.”

  Garvin said, “You folks start on. I want to put up the top on the car.”

  While he was undoing the fastenings which held the cover of the top in place, Lorraine came close to Mason, said in a low voice, “I’m afraid you’re too strong, too resourceful, Mr. Mason. Somehow I just can’t feel afraid.”

  Her hand squeezed his arm.

  She looked over at Edward Garvin, said, “He’s nice, but frightfully newlywed, if you know what I mean.”

  “How would I know?” Mason asked.

  She said archly, “How would I know how you know?”

  Garvin raised the top of the convertibl
e, came to join them. “When can we come back from Ensenada?”

  “Any time you want to face a bigamy charge,” Mason said.

  “And where does that leave me?” Lorraine asked, thoughtfully.

  Mason smiled. “In the United States,” he said, “you are an interloper, a corespondent, a mistress, a woman living without legal status, in a state of sin. Here in Mexico you are a lawfully wedded wife.”

  “That’s the damnedest thing!” Lorraine said angrily.

  “Isn’t it?” Mason agreed. “Such are the ramifications of international law. When you go to the United States, Garvin, you’re married to Ethel; you are probably also guilty of bigamy. When you are here in Mexico, you are lawfully wedded to your present companion, and Ethel Garvin is nothing more than an ex-wife who has no legal status.”

  “I think that’s the most absurd damn thing!” Garvin blazed. “I suppose I should build a big house, with the International Border running through the bedroom. I could have triple beds in the room. Ethel could be …”

  “Edward,” Lorraine said frigidly, “don’t be coarse.”

  “I’m not coarse; I’m mad,” Garvin yelled. “Damn it, I’m on a honeymoon and I don’t even know whether I’m a bridegroom!”

  “Get just as mad as you want to,” Mason told him, “but it doesn’t affect your legal status. I’m trying to get it straightened out. Now let’s eat.”

  Mason led the way to the restaurant, ordered large, tender steaks and when they were finished said, “There’s a new hotel I know here, the Vista de la Mesa. Let’s stay there and tomorrow morning you can give me the names of some of the large stockholders who are loyal to your interests, Garvin, and we’ll run up a telephone bill.”

  Garvin said, “Mason, I’ll telephone stockholders. I want you to make a property settlement with Ethel. Do the best you can. Start with fifty thousand, and …”

  Lorraine said hastily, “Edward, dear, don’t you think you’d better let Mr. Mason be the one to determine the figure? He’ll get as low a settlement as possible.”

  “I want action,” Garvin said. “I’m impatient when I want something. How will you locate her, Mason?”

  “Through detectives,” Mason said, looking at his watch. “I can telephone her tonight and make an appointment for tomorrow morning.”

  “You have her telephone number?” Garvin asked.

  “Yes. She’s in 624 at the Monolith Apartments. There’s a switchboard there and I can get them to ring her. She was a little difficult when I talked with her yesterday. She thought she had a trump card in that bigamy prosecution. However, when I tell her that you’re safely ensconced here in Mexico, where she can’t touch you with the bigamy charge, and tell her that you’re planning on transferring your property interests, buying a large hacienda in Mexico and living there—well, that will give her something to worry about.”

  Garvin’s eyes lit up. “That’s a splendid idea, Mason! It’s a pippin! That’s going to knock her for a loop!”

  Mason said, “I’m taking it for granted that Ethel has acquired other romantic interests of her own.”

  Lorraine’s eyes lit up. “Of course she has! Edward, we should have thought of that.”

  Mason said, “From what I’ve seen of her, she’s a good-looking woman who likes to have people admire her. She has a way of doing things so that she shows just enough leg to keep people interested and …”

  Garvin laughed. “That’s Ethel, all right. That’s the way she used to be with me. I remember when she was my secretary she …”

  “Edward!” Lorraine said.

  “Pardon, my dear.”

  Mason said, “Well, before we start talking any cash figure with her, we’ll spend some money on detectives and find out a little more about what she was doing with her time during that period when you didn’t hear from her.”

  “I guess she must have been more in love with me than I thought,” Garvin said somewhat thoughtfully. “It was my second marriage that turned her into a hell-cat. She probably felt there was hope of a reconciliation before that.”

  “Don’t be so certain, Edward,” Lorraine said, puncturing his ego in well-chosen words. “It was only that when you married me, she saw an opportunity to squeeze money out of you by filing a bigamy charge. You leave things entirely in the hands of Mr. Mason.”

  The Vista de la Mesa Hotel was back from the main street, a high-class, low, rambling hostelry which had apparently just been completed. The adobe wall which surrounded the place and which had been freshly whitewashed, had an arched entrance and, farther along, an exit. The two big cars crunched up the graveled driveway one behind the other, came to a stop before an eye-pleasing combination of’dobe bricks, red tile roof, whitewashed walls and green cacti showing in a pastel color combination against the’dobe.

  The woman who was seated behind the desk beamed at them with friendly cordiality.

  “We want two rooms,” Garvin said. “One for myself and wife and one for my companion.”

  “But certainly,” the woman said in English, “weeth connecting bath?”

  “Separate baths,” Garvin said.

  “But that weel be more expensive.”

  “That’s all right. We want the best you have in the house.”

  Her eyes glistened. “Ah, the señor! He’s accustomed to the best, no?”

  “Yes,” Garvin said.

  “And the best here you weel get, Señor. I have two beautiful connecting rooms, but if you do not want to share the bath then you must take both rooms. The room for the other señor must then be in the other wing.”

  “That will be fine,” Garvin said, and, picking up the pen, registered for the three of them.

  “How about the cars?” Garvin asked.

  “Oh, the cars you leave heem right there in the driveway. No one evaire steals a car from the Vista de la Mesa.”

  “You have a watchman?” Mason asked.

  “No, no watchman, but in thees country you are among honest people, no? But, as a precaution—just as a precaution—you lock the car and you leave the keys weeth me. I put them in the cash drawer. And then, if it should be necessary to move the cars in the morning before you are up, the yard boy can do it and you do not need to be disturbed, and your cars are safe.”

  Mason said, “Okay, I’ll lock up the cars, bring in the keys. And how about the baggage?”

  “Unfortunately,” she said, “I have no boy on duty tonight. You see, the place ees new. Soon I close up. I have one more room. Only one left. When that is rent, then, poof, I turn out the lights, close up the place and go to bed. No?”

  And she smiled again.

  Mason turned toward the door, “All right, Garvin, I guess we’re elected to bring in our own baggage.”

  Lorraine said, “All I need, dear, is just that little overnight bag.”

  “Yes, darling.”

  She smiled at Mason. “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am to feel that matters are in your hands.”

  “Thanks,” Mason told her, “have a good night’s sleep.”

  “I weel show the señora to her room while the señores are getting the baggage, no?”

  Lorraine smiled and nodded.

  The woman came out from behind the desk. “I am the Señora Inocente Miguerinio,” she said. “A hard name for Americans to remember, no?”

  “It is difficult,” Lorraine agreed, good-naturedly.

  “But I am running the fine hotel. For so long Tijuana has needed a fine first-class hotel, clean, nice, cool, comfortable. You come with me, Señora.”

  And the Mexican woman, amply fleshed, rolled ungirdled hips in a seductive, leisurely walk as she led the way through a door in the rear of the office.

  Garvin, hurrying out after the baggage, seemed resentful of even the brief few minutes’ separation from his wife. While Mason was getting his own bags out of the car, Garvin tugged impatiently at the door of the baggage compartment, pulled out a suitcase and an overnight bag, said, “Well, Ma
son, I’ll be seeing you in the morning.”

  “What time?” Mason asked.

  “Not too early. I …”

  “Remember, we have a lot of telephoning to do,” Mason said.

  “Well,” Garvin conceded with a sigh, “eight o’clock.”

  He slammed the car door and started up to the porch.

  “Want me to take your keys in?” Mason asked.

  “I have them with me,” Garvin said. “I’ll give them to the Señora what’s-her-name as I go in. Good night, Mason.”

  “Good night,” the lawyer said, and watched Garvin hurry through the entrance, a bag in each hand.

  Mason locked his own car, took the ignition keys from the lock, and paused for a moment to admire the stars. The moon had vanished in the west now, and the stars were blazing in steady brilliance through the dry, clear air. The lawyer, who had been working under such great nerve strain for the past few days, stood still in contemplation of the calm tranquility of the heavens, then he climbed the steps to the porch, entered the lobby, and waited for Señora Inocente Miguerinio to return from showing Garvin to his room.

  When the smiling hostess came rolling back into the room Mason said, “Now if you’ll show me my room.”

  “Oh but yes, thees way, please.”

  Mason followed her through the same door, turned to the right, down the north wing of the building. Señora Miguerinio flung open a door and stood smiling as Mason surveyed the large, commodious room with its comfortable bed, the waxed tile floor, heavy red drapes, shaded floor lamp, and the comfortable mission style furniture.

  “See,” she said, “a room on the corner weeth windows on both sides—no?”

  “Oh, fine,” Mason said.

  “Thees window, Señor, ees on the patio. That is why the drapes are drawn. You pool thees rope to open and close the drapes—no? But the windows on thees side, Señor, thees open out on nothing—nada. You have here no need for drapes. You can dress, you can undress, nobody looks—no?”

  “No,” Mason said, smiling.

  “You are comfortable—yes?”

  “Yes.”

  Mason handed her the car keys. “Here are the keys to my car.”