The Case of the Grinning Gorilla

There was no need to take the man’s pulse. He was obviously dead.

Mason turned back toward the place where Mrs. Kempton was lying.

As he did so the whole room rocked under the impact of a terrific weight which was hurled against the door.

Then, for a moment, there was silence. A framed painting on the corridor wall, which had been pushed out by the impact, thudded back into place.

There was a half-second of silence, and then suddenly the impact against the door was renewed. This time the door crashed from its hinges and exploded inward into the room.

Standing in the doorway, glowering at Mason was the big gorilla the lawyer had seen at the end of the corridor.

Mason tried using his voice. “Just a minute, boy,” he said. “Steady. Take it easy now.”

The gorilla stood perfectly motionless, looking directly at Mason. The bulk of the big desk prevented the animal from seeing Mrs. Kempton sprawled on the floor, just as it had prevented Mason from seeing her.

It was a tense moment. Mason could hear the pounding of his own heart, could see the gorilla watching him with keen eyes that took in every move, every detail of Mason’s appearance.

“Take it easy, boy,” Mason said.

The gorilla moved forward, putting one of its feet on the smashed, splintered doorway, then abruptly withdrawing it as though thinking better of it. The animal’s long arms were thrust forward, the knuckles of the left forearm resting lightly on the splintered doorway, the right arm clinging to the wrecked doorjamb.

Mason tried to hold the animal with his eyes.

For a long moment neither moved.

Mason started talking, striving to keep his voice natural. “I don’t know what the devil to say to you under the circumstances,” Mason said, addressing the gorilla. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I have an idea that if I advance I’m going to get killed, and if I retreat I’m sure I’ll get killed. If I stand here without doing anything, I’m simply building up a tension and...”

Abruptly Mason became conscious of Mrs. Kempton’s voice from the floor, a voice that was weak but edged with urgency.

“Don’t look at him, Mr. Mason,” she warned. “Crouch down on the floor and start doing something, anything. Take some coins from your pocket, a knife, a watch, anything that glitters. Start arranging them in patterns.”

Mason, with his eyes still on the gorilla, said over his shoulder, “Are you all right? I was afraid you...”

“Never mind about me, do as I say. Hurry!”

Mason heard Mrs. Kempton stir behind him, struggling to a sitting position.

Mason had some loose coins in his right-hand trouser pocket. He pulled them out and started arranging them in a haphazard design on the floor, bending over the coins in complete concentration.

After a moment Mason was conscious that the gorilla had moved another step forward, sensed that the animal was peering down at the coins Mason was arranging with such careful precision.

Mrs. Kempton managed to get to a sitting position, then to her knees. “Haven’t you something else?” she asked. “A gold pencil, a watch? Anything.”

Mason unbuckled his wrist watch, placed in on the floor in the center of the circle of coins, noticing as he did so that it was now exactly five and one half minutes since he had left Della Street at the doorway. If she followed instructions she should now be headed for a telephone, calling the police.

“Now then,” Mrs. Kempton said, “back away slowly, keeping your eyes on the coins. Don’t look at the gorilla. Back away. Back away slowly. When you do that he’ll come forward and try to find out what you were doing. He’ll be curious. He’ll start playing with the objects you’ve left on the floor — I hope.”

Mason straightened to his feet.

“Don’t look at the gorilla,” she warned.

Mason continued to stare down at the assortment of coins and the wrist watch on the floor.

“Keep backing away,” she said. “Back away slowly over toward me.”

Mason followed instructions.

He felt her hand on his arm, felt her weight for a moment as she used his arm as support to pull herself to her feet.

The gorilla, his eyes fastened on the assortment of objects on the floor, moved forward and bent down over the coins just as Mason had done.

“Quick,” she said, “but don’t run. Walk quietly, firmly, and with a great deal of assurance. Leave him there with that problem to puzzle over. Come quickly.”

Mason said, “What’s happened? What...?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get out of here first. Our lives are in danger. That gorilla is dangerous. If he ever thinks we’re afraid of him, if he ever thinks we’re running away from him — oh, please, come!”

“There’s a dead man on the bed,” Mason said.

“I know,” she told him. “Benjamin Addicks. He’s been stabbed.”

“Who stabbed him?”

“Don’t talk now. Just follow me, please.”

She led the way around the bed to a bathroom. “In here, quick.”

She closed and locked that door, opened a door at the other end of the bathroom which opened on a communicating bedroom.

“Hurry,” she said.

She was running now, leading the way.

Mason kept pace with her.

“Will that gorilla...?”