The Case of the Golddigger’s Purse

She said, “It was almost thirty seconds before I could get anyone to answer at the hotel switchboard, then I kept my voice just as low as possible and asked for an outside line. But the man downstairs told me all numbers had to go out through the hotel switchboard. And I saw then there was no dial on the telephone. I’d been so rattled I hadn’t noticed that before. So I gave him your unlisted number. It was the only thing I could have done under the circumstances.”

Mason nodded gravely.

“It seemed like an age before you answered,” she went on. “And then I started talking to you, keeping my eye on Sally Madison all the while, so I could hang up in case she started to wake up.”

“Is that why you were cut off in the middle of a sentence?” Mason asked.

“Yes. I saw her move restlessly and her eyelids fluttered. So I didn’t dare to keep on talking. I slipped the receiver back into place and put my head back on the pillow so in case she opened her eyes I could pretend to be asleep — although, of course, the purse on the floor and the light by the purse would have been a give-away. If she wakened, I was going to call for a showdown, but if I could postpone it until you got here I thought it would be better to play it that way. Well, she rolled her head around a bit and said something in that mumbled voice of a person talking in her sleep, and then she heaved a long sigh and seemed to relax.”

Mason rose from his seat on the edge of the bathtub, pushed his hands deep into his coat pockets, said, “We’re in a jam, Della.”

Della Street nodded.

“She’s supposed to be broke,” Mason said. “If she has a roll of bills like that she must have got them from Mrs. Faulkner. - I guess I played right into her hands. I wanted to be alone there in Faulkner’s bathroom so I could take a good look at all the evidence. I didn’t want her checking up on what I was doing, so I told her to take Mrs. Faulkner out into the living room and kid her out of her hysterics. I guess while she was out there, she must have put the bite on Mrs. Faulkner. That means she must have uncovered some evidence that escaped me. Or else, Mrs. Faulkner propositioned her to ditch the gun, and the golddigger ran true to form and wanted some heavy dough. In any event it leaves us in a mess.

“You can see what’s going to happen now. I thought we were getting her out of circulation so the newspaper reporters wouldn’t get hold of her, and so we could do something about building up a claim against the estate of Faulkner without having her spill any beans before we knew the lay of the land. That’s what comes of being big-hearted and trying to help a guy who has T.B. and a golddigging girl friend.

“You’ve registered under your own name and under her name. If that gun happens to be the one with which the murder was committed, you can realize what a spot we’re in. Both of us. What did she tell you when she called you on the phone?”

“She said you had told her to get in touch with me and had given her my number; that I was to take her to a hotel, stay with her and fix it so that no one would know anything about where she was until you got ready to let them find out.”

Mason nodded. “That’s exactly what I told her to do.”

Della Street said, “I was asleep and the telephone kept ringing. It wakened me out of a sound slumber and I guess I was a little groggy. Sally Madison gave me your message, and one of the first thoughts that flashed through my mind was where I could find a hotel. I told her to call me back in about ten minutes, and then I got busy on the telephone and called half a dozen hotels. I finally found there was a room with twin beds here at the Kellinger.”

Mason slitted his eyes in concentration. “Then she called you back in fifteen minutes?”

“I guess so. I didn’t notice the exact time. I had started to dress as soon as I located the room. I was rushing around and I didn’t notice the time.”

“And you told her to meet you here?”

“That’s right. I told her to come directly to the hotel, and if she got here first to wait for me in the lobby; if I got here first, I’d wait for her in the lobby.”

“Which was the first one here?”

“I was.”

“How long did you wait?”

“I’d say about ten minutes.”

“She came in a taxi?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“It was a yellow cab.”

“Notice anything strange about the way she carried her purse?”

“Not a thing. She got out of the cab and... Wait a minute, Chief, I do remember that she had a bill all ready in her hand. She didn’t have to take it out of the purse. She handed it to the cab driver and didn’t get any change. I remember that.”

“Probably a dollar bill,” Mason said. “That would mean she had about an eighty-cent ride on the meter, and gave a twenty-cent tip.”

Della Street, searching her memory, said, “I remember the cab driver looked at the bill — looked at it in a peculiar sort of way, then grinned, and said something, put it in his pocket and drove off. Then Sally Madison entered the lobby and we went directly to the room.”

“You’d already registered?”

“Yes.”