The Case of the Mischievous Doll

“Conceded,” Della Street said, “but Miss Ambler put her purse on that plastic-covered seat in the outer office and, as she leaned forward to get a magazine, touched the purse with her elbow — that plastic is as slippery as a cake of wet soap. The purse dropped to the floor and when it hit it made a heavy thud.

“Gertie says that Miss Ambler jumped about a foot, and then looked around guiltily to see if anyone had heard the sound of the heavy object striking the floor.”

“Did Gertie let on?” Mason asked.

“Not Gertie,” Della Street said. “You know how Gertie is. She has eyes all over her body but she keeps a poker face and you never know just what she’s seen. However, Gertie has an imagination that can take a button, sew a vest on it and then not only give you a description of the pattern of the vest, but tell you exactly what’s in the pockets — and the stuff that’s in the pockets is always connected with some romantic drama of Gertie’s own particular type of thinking.”

“And in this case?” Mason asked.

“Oh, in this case,” Della Street said, “Dorrie Ambler is an innocent young girl who came to the big city. She has been betrayed by a big, bad monster of a wolf who is now leaving the girl in a strange city to fend for herself. And Dorrie had decided to confront him with his perfidy and a gun. He will have the horrible alternative of making an honest woman out of her or being the pièce de résistance at Forest Lawn.”

Mason shook his head. “Gertie should be able to do better than that,” he said.

“Oh, but Gertie has. She has already created the man in the case and clothed him with a whole series of ideas that are very typically Gertie. The man in the case, in case you’re interested, is the son of a very wealthy manufacturer. The father has picked out a woman that he wants the boy to marry. The boy is really in love with Dorrie Ambler, but he doesn’t want to disobey his father, and the father, of course, is going to disinherit the boy in the event he marries Dorrie. The boy is a nice enough kid, in a way, but rather weak.”

“And what about Dorrie?” Mason asked.

“Oh, Dorrie, according to Gertie’s scenario, is a very determined young woman who has a mind of her own and isn’t going to let the father dominate her life or ruin her happiness.”

“Hardly the type of innocent young woman who would permit herself to be seduced by a young man who has no particular force of character,” Mason said.

“You’ll have to argue with Gertie about that,” Della Street told him. “Gertie’s got the whole script all finished in her mind and no one’s going to change it. When Gertie gets an idea in her head, it’s there.

“You could pound dynamite in her ear, set off the charge and blow most of her head away, but the idea would still remain intact.”

“Well,” Mason said, “I guess under the circumstances, Della, we’ll have to see Dorrie Ambler and find out how Gertie’s romantic mind has magnified the molehill into the mountain.”

“Don’t sell Dorrie short,” Della Street warned. “She’s a mighty interesting individual. She looks like a quiet, retiring young woman but she knows her way around and she wasn’t born yesterday.”

Mason nodded. “Let’s have a look at her, Della.”

Della slipped through the door to the outer office and a few moments later returned with Dorrie Ambler in tow.

“So nice of you to see me, Mr. Mason,” Dorrie Ambler said in a rapid-fire voice.

“You are concerned about a problem of personal identification?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“And you wanted to have me take steps to... well, let us say, to be sure you are you?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so anxious to establish your individual identification?” Mason asked.

“Because I think an attempt is going to be made to confuse me with someone else.”

“Under those circumstances,” Mason said, glancing at Della Street, “the very best thing to do would be to take your fingerprints.”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t do at all!”

“Why not?”

“It would make me... well, make a criminal out of me.”

Mason shook his head. “You can have your fingerprints taken and send them to the FBI to be put in their non-criminal file. Actually every citizen should do it. It establishes an absolute means of identification.”

“How long does it take?”

“To have the fingerprints taken and sent on? Only a very short time.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have that much time, Mr. Mason. I want you to... well, I want to establish my identity with you. I want you to look me over, to...” She lowered her eyes, “...to see the scar of an operation.”

Mason exchanged a quizzical glance with Della Street.

“Perhaps,” Mason said, “you’d better tell me just what you have in mind, Miss Ambler.”

“Well,” she said demurely, “you’d know me if you saw me again, wouldn’t you?”

“I think so,” Mason said.

“And your secretary, Miss Street?”

“Yes,” Della Street said. “I’d know you.”

“But,” she said, “people want to be absolutely certain in a situation of this sort and— Well, when the question of identification comes up they look for scars and... well, I have a scar.”

“And you want to show it to us.”

“Yes.”