asked.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Mason said, "I'll put it up to you. Who are you?"
"I've told you I'm Maurine Milford."
Mason said, "I'm sorry, but I think you're Patricia Faxon, and the aunt who is planning to come and visit you far a month is your mother, Lola Faxon Allred. My name is Perry Mason, and now if you'll quit beating around the bush and tell me what it is you and your mother want, I may be able to help you."
There was the panic of sheer desperation in her eyes. "You… you're… you're Perry Mason!"
"That's right."
"How did you find me?"
"I simply traced you here."
"But you couldn't have. It's impossible. I've taken the greatest precautions. I've-- why every time I've left the house, I've made absolutely certain I wasn't being followed. I've gone to the greatest pains to see that I didn't leave any back track and--"
Mason interrupted. "You left a back trail. I followed it. My detectives followed it. The police can follow it."
"You weren't supposed to get in touch with me," she said. "I was supposed to get in touch with you."
Mason said, "If I'd known you were Patricia Faxon when I started, I might have made different plans, but unfortunately you neglected to tell me that you intended to take an assumed name and an assumed identity. Now suppose you tell me why?"
"Suppose I don't?"
Mason shrugged his shoulders: "It's up to you."
"I see no reason why I should, Mr. Mason. I'm going to tell you frankly that if-- well, if certain things happen I'll get in touch with you, and if they don't, I won't, and that's final."
Mason said, "I received a check in the mail for twenty-five hundred dollars, signed by Lola Faxon Allred."
"I know you did."
"And," Mason went on, "you went to the bank at Las Olitas and drew out five thousand dollars, also on a check signed by Lola Faxon Allred."
"Well?"
Mason said, "The check I received was a forgery."
Her eyes widened. "A forgery, Mr. Mason?"
"That's right."
"It couldn't have been. I know all about that check. Mother signed it. I saw her sign it."
"A check on the First National Bank at Las Olitas?"
"No. On the Farmers, Merchants & Mechanics Bank in the city."
Mason said, "That was the other check."
"You mean you got two checks, Mr. Mason?"
"That's right."
"Two checks each for twenty-five hundred dollars?"
"But that's impossible!"
"I told you one of them was forged."
"Won't you-- won't you please sit down, Mr. Mason?"
Mason settled himself comfortably in one of the big overstuffed chairs. "Nice place you have here," he said politely.
"Yes, I was very fortunate. What about this forged check?"
"All I can tell you is that the genuine signature from which the tracing was made was the signature on the letter your mother gave you for the cashier of the First National Bank here."
"The letter Ihad?" she asked incredulously.
"That's right, the Maurine Milford letter."
"Why, I-- I don't believe it."
"And," Mason went on, "since your mother has eloped with your boy friend I thought that perhaps…"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Mason! What are you talking about."
"Your mother running off with your boy friend."
"Are you completely crazy, or are you laying some soft of a trap for me?"
"Didn't your mother run off with Robert Gregg Fleetwood?"
"What do you mean 'run off' with him?"
"Leave her husband and elope. Aren't they running away together and…?"
"Certainly not!" she blazed. "What are you trying to do? Are you just trying to get a rise out of me?"
Mason said, "I'm trying to represent your mother, Patricia, and I'm supposed to represent you in case you get in a jam. If your mother hasn't gone off with Fleetwood, you'd better give me the facts, and fast."
"But the check, Mr. Mason. I don't see how in the world anyone could have…"
"Never mind the check for a minute," Mason said. "Let's get the lowdown on what's happened to Fleetwood."
"What do you mean 'what's happened to him'?"
Mason met her eyes steadily. "Did you," he asked, "strike him with your
"Who are you?" she asked.
Mason said, "I'll put it up to you. Who are you?"
"I've told you I'm Maurine Milford."
Mason said, "I'm sorry, but I think you're Patricia Faxon, and the aunt who is planning to come and visit you far a month is your mother, Lola Faxon Allred. My name is Perry Mason, and now if you'll quit beating around the bush and tell me what it is you and your mother want, I may be able to help you."
There was the panic of sheer desperation in her eyes. "You… you're… you're Perry Mason!"
"That's right."
"How did you find me?"
"I simply traced you here."
"But you couldn't have. It's impossible. I've taken the greatest precautions. I've-- why every time I've left the house, I've made absolutely certain I wasn't being followed. I've gone to the greatest pains to see that I didn't leave any back track and--"
Mason interrupted. "You left a back trail. I followed it. My detectives followed it. The police can follow it."
"You weren't supposed to get in touch with me," she said. "I was supposed to get in touch with you."
Mason said, "If I'd known you were Patricia Faxon when I started, I might have made different plans, but unfortunately you neglected to tell me that you intended to take an assumed name and an assumed identity. Now suppose you tell me why?"
"Suppose I don't?"
Mason shrugged his shoulders: "It's up to you."
"I see no reason why I should, Mr. Mason. I'm going to tell you frankly that if-- well, if certain things happen I'll get in touch with you, and if they don't, I won't, and that's final."
Mason said, "I received a check in the mail for twenty-five hundred dollars, signed by Lola Faxon Allred."
"I know you did."
"And," Mason went on, "you went to the bank at Las Olitas and drew out five thousand dollars, also on a check signed by Lola Faxon Allred."
"Well?"
Mason said, "The check I received was a forgery."
Her eyes widened. "A forgery, Mr. Mason?"
"That's right."
"It couldn't have been. I know all about that check. Mother signed it. I saw her sign it."
"A check on the First National Bank at Las Olitas?"
"No. On the Farmers, Merchants & Mechanics Bank in the city."
Mason said, "That was the other check."
"You mean you got two checks, Mr. Mason?"
"That's right."
"Two checks each for twenty-five hundred dollars?"
"But that's impossible!"
"I told you one of them was forged."
"Won't you-- won't you please sit down, Mr. Mason?"
Mason settled himself comfortably in one of the big overstuffed chairs. "Nice place you have here," he said politely.
"Yes, I was very fortunate. What about this forged check?"
"All I can tell you is that the genuine signature from which the tracing was made was the signature on the letter your mother gave you for the cashier of the First National Bank here."
"The letter Ihad?" she asked incredulously.
"That's right, the Maurine Milford letter."
"Why, I-- I don't believe it."
"And," Mason went on, "since your mother has eloped with your boy friend I thought that perhaps…"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Mason! What are you talking about."
"Your mother running off with your boy friend."
"Are you completely crazy, or are you laying some soft of a trap for me?"
"Didn't your mother run off with Robert Gregg Fleetwood?"
"What do you mean 'run off' with him?"
"Leave her husband and elope. Aren't they running away together and…?"
"Certainly not!" she blazed. "What are you trying to do? Are you just trying to get a rise out of me?"
Mason said, "I'm trying to represent your mother, Patricia, and I'm supposed to represent you in case you get in a jam. If your mother hasn't gone off with Fleetwood, you'd better give me the facts, and fast."
"But the check, Mr. Mason. I don't see how in the world anyone could have…"
"Never mind the check for a minute," Mason said. "Let's get the lowdown on what's happened to Fleetwood."
"What do you mean 'what's happened to him'?"
Mason met her eyes steadily. "Did you," he asked, "strike him with your
Similar Books
