started to go out, suddenly paused and said, "Della, there's someone rattling the knob of the door of the reception office-would you mind slipping out and telling him that we're closing up and see if we can make an appointment with this man for tomorrow."
A few moments later she was back in the office. "You may want to see this man, Chief," she said.
"Who is it?"
"His name is Montrose Foster and he wants to talk to you about Harrison T. Boring."
"Well, well!" Mason said, grinning. "Under the circumstances, Della, I guess we'll postpone closing the office until we've talked with Mr. Montrose Foster, following which we could, if so desired, dine uptown and perhaps invite Paul Drake to go to dinner with us.
"Bring him in."
Within a few seconds, Della Street was back with a wiry, thin-faced individual whose close-set, black, beady eyes were restlessly active. He had high cheekbones, a very prominent pointed nose, quick, nervous mannerisms and rapid enunciation.
"How do you do, Mr. Mason, how do you do?" he said, "I recognize you from your photographs. i've always wanted to meet you.
"Tops in the field, that's what you are, sir, tops in the field. It's a pleasure to meet the champion."
"What can I do for you?" Mason asked, sizing the man up with good-natured appraisal.
"Perhaps we can do something for each other, Mr. Mason. I'll put it that way."
"Well, sit down," Mason said. "It's after hours and we were just closing up. However, if you'll be brief, we can make a preliminary exploration of the situation."
"My interest is in Harrison T. Boring," Foster said, "and I have an idea that you're interested in him."
"And if so?" Mason asked.
"I think we could pool our information, Mr. Mason. I think I could be of some assistance to you and you might be of some assistance to me."
"Where do we begin?" Mason asked.
"I happen to know-and never mind how I happen to know it-that you left word for Harrison Boring to get in touch with you. I happen to know that Mr. Boring picked up that message and in place of calling you on the telephone as apparently you wished him to do, came here in person. I happen to know that he left here only a short time ago. And, if you'll forgive me, that was the reason I was so persistently trying to attract attention by knocking at the door of your reception room. I felt certain you were still here."
"I see," Mason said.
"Now then," Foster went on, "if you'll let me have the name of your client, Mr. Mason, I think I can perhaps be of help to you."
"And why do you wish the name of my client?"
"I'm simply checking, Mr. Mason, to make certain that I'm on the right track."
Mason's eyes narrowed slightly. "I fail to see what good it would do to divulge the name of my client. If, of course, you wish to tell me anything about Boring, I'm ready to listen."
"Boring," Foster said, "is an opportunist, a very shrewd character, very shrewd."
"Unscrupulous?" Mason asked.
"I didn't say that," Foster said.
"May I ask how you know so much about him?"
"The man worked for me for a period of two years."
"In what capacity?" Mason asked.
"He was a-well, you might say an investigator."
"And what is your line of work?" Mason asked.
Foster became elaborately casual. "I have several activities, Mr. Mason. I am a man of somewhat diverse interests."
"The principal one of which," Mason said, making a shot in the dark, "is locating missing heirs. Is that right?"
Foster was visibly shaken. "Oh," he said, somewhat crestfallen, "you know about that, do you?"
"Let's put it this way, I surmised it."
"And why did you surmise that, may I ask?"
"The fact that you were so interested in the name of my client, Mr. Foster."
Foster said somewhat sheepishly, "I may have been a little abrupt but, after all, I was trying to help you, Mr. Mason. That was what I primarily had in mind."
"And at the same time, helping yourself to a piece of cake," Mason said. "Let's see if I can reconstruct the situation. You're running an agency
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