The Case of the Queenly Contestant

“Now look — all this cloak-and-dagger stuff makes me very, very suspicious. I am afraid that I am being dragged into something that...”

“No, no, no, Mr. Mason,” she interrupted, “it’s nothing that will affect you. It’s only something that affects me, but I need you now more than ever. I know now who’s back of all this and I simply must have your help. I’m prepared to pay whatever it’s worth.”

“All right,” Mason said; “I’m going to play ball with you because I had an idea yesterday there was a lot more to the case than you were telling me. Also, I don’t like to have some private detective try to make a monkey out of me.

“Now, correct me if I am wrong. These people — whoever they are — who are on your trail haven’t seen you for some twenty years. They knew you as a good-looking girl — in fact, a beautiful girl — who was a little above the average height. Any rather tall woman who is good-looking and about the right age might be used as a decoy — is that right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s difficult for you to talk where you are now?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask where that is?”

Ellen Adair said, “You are talking with the head buyer of French, Coleman and Swazey, and any understanding you have with me will be honored.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “I’ll see you at The Blue Ox at seven-thirty. Tell the headwaiter that you are Mr. Mason’s guest and he’ll show you to a booth.”

The lawyer waited for several minutes, then again called Drake’s office.

Paul Drake himself answered the phone.

“Perry?”

“Right.”

“Everything’s O.K. I’ve got the operative, and she’ll move into the apartment with at least enough stuff to enable her to act as if she’s living there. She’ll probably have to eat out.”

“When can she be at my office?”

“Any time you say within the next thirty to forty minutes.”

Mason said, “Have her at my office in exactly forty minutes. Then I want her to leave a broad trail from the office right to the apartment. In other words, Paul, we’re going to be naive. We’re going to play everything wide open. It will be so easy to follow her that it will be like rolling off a log. Only don’t make it too simple. I don’t want these people to suspect a frame-up, but I do want them to believe that they’re dealing with an unsuspecting attorney who won’t prove to be too formidable an adversary.

“Now, here’s something else. Della Street and I are going to be at The Blue Ox Café tonight. I’ll have a table reserved. I want to be absolutely certain that I am not followed, and if I should be followed I want to be tipped off so that I can take my shadow on a detour Della and I will come in a taxicab. We’ll be there on the dot at seven-thirty. I want you to have an operative on the job to make sure I’m not being followed. I don’t think I will be, but I have to be absolutely certain.

“Got everything straight?”

“I have it all straight,” Drake said. “Ellen Smith will be at your office in exactly forty minutes. She’ll give the name ‘Ellen Smith’ to the receptionist and say she has an appointment. She’ll talk with you, then leave and go directly to the decoy apartment and stay there until she receives further orders.”

“That’s right,” Mason said. “Now, you’ve got some kind of a bug detector which can tell if an office is bugged?”

“That’s right.”

“Go in my office,” Mason said, “and make sure that there are no bugs.”

“I can’t check your phone in that time,” Drake said. “They’ve got so many methods of...”

“Forget the phone,” Mason told him, “and I don’t think you’ll find any bugs in the office. They think I’m a pushover.

“I’ll be in touch with you from time to time, giving you instructions. I can trust this Ellen Smith?”

“With your life,” Drake said.

“O.K.,” Mason told him, and hung up.

The lawyer left the station, took a cab directly back to his office, entered through the corridor door to his private office, turned to Della Street, and said, “What’s new, Della?”

“Paul has been here with a bug detector and has given the office a clean bill of health,” she said. “No bugs.”

“That’s fine,” Mason told her. “I didn’t think there’d be any.”

“Can you tell me what this is all about?” Della asked.

“Not yet,” Mason said, “but you have a dinner date with the boss and a client tonight, so prepare to wrap yourself around a nice, juicy steak with all trimmings. Unless I’m greatly mistaken, we’re going to be mixed up to our eyebrows in intrigue. A rather tall woman, thirty-eight years old, is going to be in the office within about ten minutes. I want to see her. She’ll give the name of Ellen Smith. Tell Gertie she has an appointment and she’s to come right in.”

“And who, may I ask, is Ellen Smith?”

“Ellen Smith,” Mason said, grinning, “is a ringer.”

“A ringer?”

“That’s right. A double for our client, Ellen Adair. When she leaves the office she’s going to be followed to her apartment.”

“And then?” Della Street asked.