The Case of the Golddigger’s Purse

She said, “I went directly to the store to get Tom, but Tom was fixing up some treatment for some other fish that Mr. Rawlins had consented to treat. Rawlins was fixing up a treatment tank and he wanted Tom to finish getting some panels ready.”

“That was the tank he took to Staunton’s place?”

“Yes.”

Mason said, “You’ve overlooked one thing, Sally. You didn’t think anyone would ever bother to check up on that time element with Staunton. You’re lying. Tom didn’t fix up that tank for Rawlins to take to Staunton’s until after he’d gone to Faulkner’s place. You intended to rush right back to the pet store and fix up that other tank. But the fact that Faulkner’s fish were gone and that he called the police delayed you materially. You didn’t get back until quite late. And Rawlins, therefore, didn’t deliver Staunton’s tank until quite late. Staunton is positive about that.”

“He’s mistaken.”

“Oh no, he isn’t,” Mason said. “When Faulkner gave you the key to that office, it was the opportunity you’d been waiting for. You went out there with a homemade extension dipper consisting of a silver soup ladle to which had been tied a section of broomstick. You dredged something out of the bottom of that fish tank. Then you had to leave in a hurry because Tom tipped you off someone was coming. So you ran out, jumped in Tom’s car, drove around the block, and then came driving up to the office again as though you’d just arrived from the pet store.”

She shook her head in sullen, defiant negation.

Mason said, “All right, I’m telling you what’s happened. You lie to me and you’re sending Tom to his death. Do you still stick with your story?”

She nodded.

Mason pushed back his chair. “That settles it,” he said. “When Tom dies, remember that you’re responsible.”

She let him take two steps before she called him back. Then she leaned forward so that her face was all but pressed against the heavy mesh. “It’s true, Mr. Mason — everything you said.”

Mason said, “That’s better. Now suppose you tell me the truth. How did you know that bullet was in the tank?”

“How did you know it was a bullet?”

“Never mind,” Mason said, “I’m asking you. How did you know it was in the tank?”

“Mr. Faulkner told me.”

“Oh, oh!” Mason said. “Now we’re getting some place. Go ahead.”

“Mrs. Faulkner told me that she was satisfied I’d find a .38 caliber bullet somewhere in the bottom of that fish tank; that she knew Tom was going to be called on to treat those fish; that she wanted to have that bullet recovered, and she also wanted to be absolutely certain that she could prove where the bullet came from. She said that I must arrange it so that both Tom and I were present when the bullet was recovered. Well, that’s about all there was to it, Mr. Mason. When Mr. Faulkner gave me the key, I got hold of Tom, and we intended to recover the bullet first and then come back after Mr. Faulkner had arrived, and treat the fish. But when we got there and let ourselves into the office, the fish weren’t there. For a minute or two, I didn’t know what to do. But then I went ahead just as we’d planned. I took the dipper and we got the bullet out and just then we heard a car coming.”

“You didn’t leave Tom out in the car to watch?”

“No. We both had to go in there. That was the agreement. But we felt certain we had plenty of time. The house next door was dark and I knew that Mr. Faulkner would be at the café for some little time — at least I thought he would. But we heard this car coming and it frightened us and we dashed out in such a hurry that we didn’t dare to take the ladle with us.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Then we drove around the corner and waited until we saw you and Mr. Faulkner drive up. And then we came around there and acted as innocent as possible, pretending that we’d just come from the pet store.”

“And then what did you do with the bullet?”

“I gave it to Mrs. Faulkner.”

“When?”

“Not until last night”

“Why not until last night?”

“I telephoned her and told her I had it, and she said that it would be all right; that I could have the money all right but that I’d have to wait until the coast was all clear.”

“And then last night?”

“Then last night I took the bullet out to her.”

“Tom was with you?”

“No, I went alone.”

“There was some identification mark on that bullet?”

“Yes. Tom had given me an etching tool and we’d both etched our initials on the base of the bullet. Mrs. Faulkner was very insistent that we do it just that way, and told us to be very careful not to mar the sides of the bullet because she wanted to be able to prove what gun had fired the bullet.”

“How much were you to get?”

“She said that if a certain deal went through, we’d get five hundred, and if another deal went through we’d get two thousand.”

“And then last night you took the bullet out to her?”

“That’s right.”

“When?”

“About half past nine, I guess it was.”

“Half past nine!” Mason exclaimed incredulously.

“That’s right.”

“And where was she?”

“At her house.”

“And she paid you the two thousand dollars?”

“Yes.”