Denby came walking to the witness stand, quietly efficient, gravely dignified. He took his position in the witness chair, placed the tips of his fingers together and looked inquiringly at Mason.
Mason said, “Mr. Denby, I would like to get the time element straight here. You have stated that you were working in the office of the Garvin Mining, Exploration and Development Company all during the night of September twenty-first and the morning of September twenty-second.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now then, are you acquainted with Virginia Bynum?”
“No, sir, I am not—that is, in the sense you probably mean. I met her in the offices of the corporation when she inquired about a stock certificate. That, I believe, is all.”
“Now you know that the gun which was found on the fire escape was the weapon that has been introduced in evidence here in this case.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how do you know it was the same weapon?”
“By the number, sir.”
“What is the number?”
“S64805.”
“You remembered that number?”
“Yes, sir, I remembered the number on that murder weapon.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it might be significant.”
“You didn’t make any notes?”
“No.”
“Do you want the jury to believe that you can remember a number which you have seen as casually as the number which you saw on that gun?”
“Yes, sir, I have a photographic memory for numbers. I very seldom forget a number once I have seen it.”
Mason approached the witness, took a wallet from his pocket and took from it a card. “What is this, Mr. Denby?”
“It seems to be a driving license made out to Mr. Perry Mason, an attorney at law.”
“And have you ever seen that before?”
“This driving license?” Denby asked, puzzled.
“Yes.”
Denby shook his head. “No, I have not seen it.”
“When was it issued?”
“On June fourth, nineteen forty-seven.”
“When does it expire?”
“June fourth, nineteen fifty-one.”
Mason walked up, took the license from Denby’s hand, turned back toward the counsel table, then suddenly paused and said, “Very well, if you’re so efficient in remembering numbers and have such a photographic memory for retaining numbers in your mind, what’s the number of that driving license?”
Denby’s cold eyes’held a mildly contemptuous smile. “The number of the driving license, Mr. Mason,” he said, “is 490553.”
Mason glanced at the driving license.
“Is that right?” Denby asked.
“That,” Mason told him, “is right.”
There was a ripple of surprised approval from the spectators.
“Now, then,” Mason said, whirling suddenly and pointing his finger at Denby, “if you have such a photographic memory for numbers how does it happen that when I first asked you, you were unable to remember who it was that owned Certificate Number 123 in the corporation?”
“I can’t carry in mind the figures on every bit of stock in the corporation.”
“I see,” Mason said. “That’s all.”
“We will adjourn, until Monday morning at ten o’clock,” Judge Minden said. “The jury will remember the admonition of the Court.”
Chapter 22
Mason, Della Street and Paul Drake sat in Mason’s suite at the U. S. Grant Hotel.
Across the table from Perry Mason a tear-stained Virginia Bynum tried to meet the lawyer’s eyes and failed.
Mason said, “Virginia, you’re mixed up in a nasty mess. Whether you can get out of it with a whole skin depends entirely on whether you tell the truth. We now know that you were lying about being out on the fire escape the night of the murder. You can be prosecuted for perjury. We know that you took my car from Tijuana. We know that you drove it to the scene of the crime. The way things are right now you can be arrested for murder. You’d be tried and probably convicted—but somehow I don’t think you’re guilty of that murder, so suppose you tell us the truth.”
She hesitated, looked from Mason’s steady eyes to Drake’s cold, accusing face, looked to Della Street for sympathy.
Della Street crossed over to pat her shoulder. “Why don’t you tell the truth, Virginia?” she said. “You know Mr. Mason will give you the breaks—if he can.”
Virginia suddenly threw back her head. “All right,” she said, “I’ll tell you. I see no reason for trying to protect people who aren’t protecting me.
“It all happened when I fell for Frank Livesey. I was a party girl. He was in a position to make me or break me. He sold mining stock and threw one party after another. I don’t know all the deal, but as nearly as I can find out Livesey and Denby had been looting the corporation. Denby would juggle papers around and take certain papers out of the files whenever an audit was expected.
“They had things going nicely when it suddenly began to appear that someone was tampering with the files in the corporation. They couldn’t, either one of them, imagine who it was. However, by leaving certain traps they became convinced that this person was getting into the office at night, so they delegated me to wait in the office and see who it was. I kept the window onto the fire escape open. They told me whenever anyone started to open the door of the office I was to step out of the window to the fire escape, wait until I saw who was in there and what was being done. They said I could work my way down the fire escape where I wouldn’t be seen.
“I liked Frank Livesey. He did a lot of entertaining and—well, I was living by my wits. I wasn’t selling anything I didn’t want to sell, but these stock buyers could make me a lot of money. Well, naturally I was under obligations to do just about as he wanted.
“You know what happened. Mrs. Ethel Garvin used a key she had when she was a secretary to get into the office. I ran down the fire escape. You caught me. I managed to make my escape in a taxicab, but I came back to the building and had the taxicab wait. When I saw this woman who had been in the office leave the building I had the cab follow her. I found out she was living at the Monolith Apartments. I recognized her as soon as I saw her enter the office because I’d seen her when she and Mr. Garvin were still married.”
“And you reported all this to Livesey?” Mason asked.
“That’s right.”
“And what happened?”
She said, “Livesey and Denby bribed the switchboard operator at the Monolith Apartments to listen in on any conversations that came over Ethel Garvin’s telephone and advise them. They found out then what she was up to; that she was substituting proxies and trying to control the stockholders’ meeting. By this time they had reason to believe she had found out about the shortage of cash in the treasury of the corporation.
“Edward Garvin had gone away with his new wife and no one could find him, but Frank Livesey had the idea you would manage to find him and that when you did locate him you’d advise him to go across the border into Mexico. So he stationed me at the border in Mexico to let him know if Garvin crossed over to Tijuana.
“You know what happened. Garvin crossed the border. You followed him in your car. I got a taxi and followed you to the hotel. Garvin didn’t know me, but you did, so I had to keep out of sight. However, after I thought you’d gone to bed, I got a room in the hotel so I could watch what was going on, without having the possibility of trouble with some night watchman. It turned out to be the last available room. I telephoned Frank Livesey as soon as the lights were switched off. I had a front bedroom. Frank told me not to go to bed but to sit up where I could look out of the window and make absolutely certain that you people didn’t sneak away in the night. He said you were sharp and that he thought you might be pulling some trick.
“I hadn’t been by the window over a few minutes when Mr. Garvin came out, jumped in his car, and drove away. I had to do
something fast. I knew that the keys to the cars were in the drawer in the office all properly labeled. I knew your car when I saw it. I knew it was a fast car and I felt that it was the car to take. I ran into the office, opened the drawer, found the keys that had the name ‘Mason’ tied to them, got in your car and followed Mr. Garvin. He went to Oceanside. He stopped several times and then had his gas tank filled. When he drove out of the service station I followed him out on the Fallbrook road near to the place I since discovered belonged to Mr. Hackley. He parked his car on the main road, locked the ignition, got out and took off across the field. I thought that was my best chance to telephone and was starting back to Oceanside when I saw a car turn in the road which went to Hackley’s place. That was Ethel Garvin’s. There was another car shortly behind it. That was Mr. Denby, driving his own car.
“Mr. Mason, I had no idea what he was planning. He listened to what I had to say, then told me that he was going to borrow your car for a while and that I was to take his car and try to find out what was going on in the house that was down at the end of the driveway. The clerk at the Monolith had told him of Garvin’s call to Ethel Garvin.
“I moved along into the fields and worked up close to the house. I could see a light go on and could see Ethel Garvin and a tall man. The man was talking with her. He filled the gas tank on her car, then they went into the house. I kept working closer and then almost died of fright when I saw a dark shadowy figure—then I realized it was Mr. Garvin. He was moving toward the house, trying to get a look at what was going on, but a dog started to bark and kept barking and Mr. Garvin had to get away in order to be far enough away so the dog wouldn’t bark.
“After a while, Mrs. Garvin came out, got in her automobile and drove away. Mr. Garvin tried to follow her, but he’d been so close to the house that by the time he ran the three or four hundred yards across the field to the road, she’d got away.
“I got in Mr. Denby’s car and, to tell you the truth, I was pretty nervous. I’d been out there in the dark trying to find out what was going on in the Hackley house. I was afraid of the dog and afraid of someone jumping on me. I at one time had to run through some brush, and lost my scarf. I also snagged my stockings, and—well, I’m afraid I looked a mess.
“I got in Mr. Denby’s car, drove to Oceanside, couldn’t find any trace of Mr. Garvin, and was wondering what to do when Mr. Denby showed up driving your car. He seemed very nervous and excited. He said, ‘Here, quick! Jump in Mr. Mason’s car. I want you to beat Garvin back to Tijuana. Make it just as fast as you can.
“‘As soon as you get back to Tijuana, park the car. First thing in the morning I want you to check out, leave the hotel where you’re staying, take a plane to Los Angeles, go to your apartment and stay there. If anyone asks you where you were, tell them that you were sitting out on the fire escape watching the office and that I was working all night. Be sure to say that I was dictating a lot of cylinders on the Dictaphone dictating machine. That’s all you need to know.’
“And,” Virginia went on, “that was all I did know. I just jumped in the car and did exactly as he told me.”
Mason looked at Della Street. “Got it all down, Della?”
Della looked up from her shorthand notebook.
“I guess that does it,” Mason said, grinning at Paul Drake. “You can see what happened, Paul. Because Garvin told his wife to meet him there at the site of the property they had once owned, Denby knew right where to go. He knew where that property was located. He drove my car down there and parked it by the side of the road. He then probably walked back forty or fifty yards and waited. When Ethel saw a car parked there she naturally supposed it was her husband’s car. She slowed down. Denby stepped out of the shadows. He had Virginia Bynum’s revolver in his hand. He killed Ethel, pushed her body over to the right-hand side of the car, drove her car alongside of my car, stepped out into my car, pulled Ethel’s body over behind the steering wheel, dropped the gun on the ground, got in my car, drove back to Oceanside, changed cars with Virginia and beat it back to Los Angeles.
“He’d been arranging an alibi for a long time. There’s nothing about a dictated Dictaphone record that shows when it was dictated. He’d been carefully saving up a supply of dictated cylinders dealing with a lot of technical phases of the corporation’s business which would sound as though they’d been dictated the night before the stockholders’ meeting. All he had to do was to get back to the office long enough to pick up those records and put them on the desk of his transcribing secretary. Of course, she would be firmly convinced he’d been working all night.”
Mason turned to Della Street, “Della, call the secretary of the Bar Association. Get him on the line for me.”
When Della Street had the call through, Mason, grinning, said, “This is Perry Mason talking. Your grievance committee wants to have me appear tonight to explain how it happened that I tricked Mortimer C. Irving into identifying my car as the car he saw parked on the road by Oceanside when the murder was committed. You are kindly advised that it was my car Irving saw parked there. Now, if you can tell me any rule which makes it unethical or illegal for me to persuade a witness to tell the truth you’re welcome to disbar me.”
And Perry Mason, winking at his attractive secretary, hung up the telephone.
About the Author
Erle Stanley Gardner (1889–1970) was the top selling American author of the twentieth century, primarily due to the enormous success of his Perry Mason Mysteries, which numbered more than eighty and inspired a half-dozen motion pictures and radio programs, as well as a long-running television series starring Raymond Burr. Having begun his career as a pulp writer, Gardner brought a hard-boiled style and sensibility to his early Mason books, but he gradually developed into a more classic detective novelist, providing clues to allow astute readers to solve his many mysteries. For over a quarter of a century, he wrote more than a million words a year under his own name as well as numerous pseudonyms, the most famous being A. A. Fair.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1949 by Erle Stanley Gardner
Cover design by Ian Koviak
ISBN: 978-1-5040-6126-1
This edition published in 2020 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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THE PERRY MASON MYSTERIES
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The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom Page 22
