The Case of the Mischievous Doll

“No, I had the deal sized up a hundred per cent wrong. The man was a perfect gentleman. I put on the clothes and came out. He looked me over, nodded approvingly and then gave me a hat and told me I was to wear that hat. He told me that my duties would be very light for the first few days, that I was to sleep late the next morning, that I was to get up and have had breakfast by ten-thirty; that I was to go to the intersection of Hollywood and Vine and cross the street fifty times. At the end of that time I was free to go home.”

“Crossing the street from what direction?” Mason asked.

“He said it didn’t make any difference. Just walk back and forth across the street, being careful to obey the signals, and that I was to remember not to pay any attention to anybody who might be there with a camera.”

“Was somebody there?” Mason asked.

“Yes, a man was there with a camera. He took pictures mostly of me but occasionally he would take a picture of someone else.”

“And you walked back and forth?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“The clothes fit you?”

“As though they’d been made for me. They were the ones I wore this morning.”

“Now then,” Mason said, “this is an important point. Were these clothes new or had they been worn?”

“They were new. They hadn’t been sent to the cleaner as nearly as I could tell. They had, however, evidently been made specially. There were even some bits of the basting threads left in the seams.”

“Did you,” Mason asked, “ever see any of the pictures?”

“No, just the man with the camera.”

“All right, go on. What happened?”

“I was told to telephone a certain unlisted number for instructions. I telephoned the number and was told that everything was okay. I had done all that I needed to do for the day and I could have the rest of the time off.”

“Then what?” Mason asked.

She said, “I did a little detective work on my own.”

“Such as what?”

“I called the unlisted number, disguised my voice and asked for Mac. The man said I had the wrong number and asked what number I was calling and I gave him the number. It was, of course, the correct number. He said I had made a mistake and had the wrong number. I told him that I didn’t, that I knew the number Mac had given me. So then he started getting a little mysterious and I think a little concerned. He said, ‘Look, this is a detective agency, Billings and Compton. We don’t have any Mac working for us,’ and I said, ‘A detective agency, huh?’ And slammed up the phone.”

“So then what?”

“Then,” she said, “I looked up the address of Billings and Compton Detective Agency and decided to go up there and ask for a showdown. I didn’t know just what I was getting into.”

“And what happened?” Mason asked.

“I never went in,” she said. “I... Well, something happened and I thought I saw the picture.”

“What was it that happened?”

“I drove my car up there. There’s a parking lot right next door to the building. I put my car in the parking lot and was just getting out when I saw my double.”

“Your what?”

“My double.”

“Now,” Mason said, “I’m beginning to get the picture. Just what did your double look like?”

“She looked exactly like me. She was dressed exactly the same way, and there was more than a superficial resemblance. It was really startling. She was my height, my build, my complexion, and of course since we were wearing identical clothes... well, I had to stop and do a double take. I thought I was looking at myself in the mirror.”

“And what was your double doing?”

“Standing in line, waiting for her car to be brought to her.”

“And what did you do?”

“I kept on doing detective work. I stopped my car and continued to sit in it and when the man gave me a parking ticket I just kept on sitting there until I saw her car being delivered and I got the licence number of her car, WBL 873.”

“So then you looked up the registration?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“And the registration was Minerva Minden?”

“Right.”

“And then?” Mason asked.

“Well, then I reported for work the next day and I was told to go to another locality. This time it was Sunset and La Brea and I was to cross the street fifty times.”

“You did that?”

“Yes.”

“And the photographer was there?”

“Part of the time the photographer was there, part of the time he drove by in an automobile. Once I’m certain that he had a motion-picture camera in the automobile when he stopped and parked the car and took motion pictures of me.”

“And then what?”

“Then I called the unlisted number again and was told that my work was done for the day, that I could relax, have cocktails and dinner and that there would be no more calls on my time.”

“So what did you do?”

She said, “I came to the conclusion that I was being groomed for something and that I was going to be what you called a Patsy.”

“Perhaps Minerva Minden wants an alibi for something,” Mason said.

“I’ve thought of all that,” she said. “We’re not twins but there certainly is a startling resemblance. But wait until you hear what happened the next day.”

“Okay, what did happen?”