The Case of the Grinning Gorilla

“What?” Hardwick exclaimed.

Mason grinned. “I don’t feel that grateful.”

“I certainly have given you information...”

“Sure,” Mason said, “you’ve given us information that helps in fixing fees. We’re grateful. I’d do anything for you I could, personally. But our client is in a different position. I’m not going to start writing any blank checks on my client’s account until I know what it is you’re after.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Mason, that it’s a matter which has absolutely nothing to do with the case in which you client is now involved. It is a matter that must remain highly confidential. In fact, Mrs. Kempton herself will not know what it is I am trying to clear up.”

Mason shook his head. “I want to know what you’re gunning for before I let any client of mine move onto the target range.”

“She’s not going to get hurt.”

“That,” Mason said, “is something on which she’s entitled to the benefit of legal advice, legal advice that is completely and solely to her best interests.”

“I’m afraid, Mr. Mason, that you’re putting too high a price on your offer.”

Mason smiled and said, “You put a high enough price on reading us the provision of the will.”

Hardwick said, “All right, suppose you would have learned the provisions anyway after the will had been filed for probate. Having them in advance may make several thousand dollars difference to you gentlemen personally.”

“We’re grateful,” Mason said, “But we advise our clients for their best interests, not ours.”

“I don’t think my request is unreasonable,” Hardwick said.

“What do you want to talk with Mrs. Kempton about?”

“I am not at liberty to tell you.”

“All right, then,” Mason said, “I’ll tell you, and we’ll see how close I come to it.”

“You’ll tell me?” Hardwick asked in surprise.

“That’s right,” Mason said. “You want to ask Josephine Kempton about the murder of Helen Cadmus.”

“The murder of Helen Cadmus?” Hardwick echoed.

“That’s right, the murder. You have reason to believe that someone tossed Helen Cadmus overboard from that yacht. You have some information that we don’t have. You also have some problem that bothers you in connection with the estate. When I know more about why you’re interested I’ll give you a better answer.”

Hardwick cleared his throat with a loud harrumph, took off his glasses, polished them vigorously, adjusted them back on his nose.

“How right am I?” Mason asked.

“You’re simply guessing,” Hardwick said.

“Sure I’m guessing, but I’m guessing pretty close to the truth, am I not?”

“Let us suppose for the sake of the argument that you are. Where does that leave us?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Frankly, I am concerned over a disquieting possibility which may have some serious effect on the fortunes of your client.”

“You surely aren’t going to toy around with a theory that Josephine Kempton murdered Helen Cadmus?”

“I didn’t make any such accusation.”

“You didn’t put it in words,” Mason said, “but that’s the thought you’re trying to scare us with — the way someone pulls out a jumping jack and shakes it in front of a kid’s nose.”

“I merely want you to realize the necessity of having your client co-operate with me.”

Mason said, “We certainly don’t intend to stand by and have you saddle a murder on our client.”

“I’m not going to saddle a murder on her if she co-operates. I promise you gentlemen I will never breathe a word of anything I learn to the police. After all, gentlemen,” Hardwick went on, “there is no reason for us to assume a position of antagonism. There are two things I want, and...”

“Two things?” Mason interrupted.

“Exactly.”

“I thought you only wanted one.”

“You didn’t wait for me to finish. I want to have a private talk with your client, and I want those Helen Cadmus diaries.”

Mason shook his head.

“In return for which,” Hardwick went on, “you could count on my entire co-operation at every stage of the case.”

Mason said, “To hell with all this mealymouthed diplomacy. To get down to brass tacks, you’re here to blackmail us. You want the Cadmus diaries and you want to get Mrs. Kempton to pull a chestnut out of the fire for you. If she doesn’t do it, you’re going to try to pin the Cadmus murder on her.”

“Mr. Mason!”

“And,” Mason went on, “you’re trying to shake down the wrong people.”

“Mr. Mason, I am only telling you the two things you can do which will be of the greatest advantage to your client. After all, you know I can get what I want by going to the police — and then the whole thing would be in the public press.”

“That’s right,” Mason said. “The police can inquire about anything they damn please, and the press can publish anything they damn please, and we can advise our client not to answer any questions.”

Hardwick got to his feet. “I’ll now tell you gentlemen something else,” he said, “I have received a cablegram from Benjamin Addicks’ brother in Australia.”

“That’s nice.”