The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom
- Автор: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
- Серия: Perry Mason #35
- Год: 1949
- Язык: английский
- Год: William Morrow
- Жанр: Классические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom». Краткое содержание книги:
“When was that?”
“Very shortly after we’d left Los Angeles. It had been a little cloudy, and then the sun came out and was quite brilliant and Edward wanted his dark glasses. I opened the door of the glove compartment and the glasses were in a case toward the back of the compartment. Now that you mention about the gun, I remember thinking that everything had been pushed toward the back part of the glove compartment and wondered why. It was as though some other object had occupied the front of the compartment for a little while. But it certainly wasn’t there when I got those glasses. There were just some maps and a small flashlight, a pair of pliers, and this case with Edward’s sunglasses.”
“No gun?”
“Definitely not.”
Mason said to Garvin, “But you’re certain the gun was in the glove compartment?”
“It certainly was, and I guess the only time when it could have been removed was when I was out in front of my house waiting for my wife. She had the baggage all packed and I went in and got the baggage and then...”
“And then we had a bottle of beer,” Lorraine said. “You remember that you wanted to have some beer. You said you were thirsty so we went back to the icebox and had a bottle of beer.”
“That’s right,” Garvin said.
“And during this time the car wasn’t locked up?”
“Heavens, no,” Garvin said. “As a matter of fact I almost didn’t shut off my motor. Lorraine said she had the baggage all ready and I went in and got it and it wasn’t until after I got in the house that I thought about the beer. Lorraine joined me. We went back to the icebox, opened a bottle and split it in two glasses. Now someone could have taken the gun out at that time.”
“Someone who had followed you for that specific purpose?” Mason asked.
“I don’t think so, Mason. I doubt if anyone could have done that. It would have been more apt to have been kids in the neighborhood.”
“It wasn’t kids in the neighborhood,” Mason said. “Whoever got that gun, got it for a specific, deliberate purpose. That was the gun that was used in killing your former wife.”
“They’re absolutely certain about that?” Garvin asked.
“They will be as soon as they recover the fatal bullet and then shoot a test bullet through the gun and make a series of tests with a comparison microscope. But you can gamble a thousand to one that it was that gun which did the job.”
“That, of course, complicates things,” Garvin admitted. “I suppose police might even discover my fingerprints on that gun.”
“You handled it?”
“I handled it, Denby handled it, and Livesey handled it. And whoever put it out on the fire escape must have handled it. In other words there must be quite a few fingerprints on it.”
“I suppose so,” Mason said. “The police aren’t taking me into their confidence.”
“The body was found near Oceanside,” Lorraine Garvin said significantly.
“That’s right,” Mason said. “We haven’t interviewed Hackley yet. The police don’t know anything at all about him. I’m going to have a car drive me back to Oceanside. Paul Drake is going to meet me there.”
“Paul Drake?” Lorraine asked.
“The detective who’s been working with me. The one who located Ethel Garvin for me. He’s a good man.”
“Well,” Mrs. Garvin said. “I can’t help but say that I consider it highly significant that she drove to Oceanside — if that is where her lover is living.”
“We don’t know he’s her lover. We don’t know very much about him,” Mason said. “He may be a tough nut to crack. The only satisfaction we have to date is that we know about him and the police don’t. It is, of course, significant that she went to Oceanside. There are a couple of other angles in the case that indicate she may have gone to keep an appointment with this man, and...”
From the patio outside came the sound of the voice of Señora Inocente Miguerinio.
“Thees place ees very old,” Señora Miguerinio said, “muy viejo — old, you understand, like the ruinas. My father, and before him my grand-father, have owned thees place. Now I have feex heem up so the turista have a place to sleep, no?”
“I see,” a man’s voice answered.
“An old estate, a hacienda,” Señora Miguerinio went on.
The masculine voice said, “I am glad to know it. Two years ago when I was here, I did not notice it.”
“Of course you deed not notice. Ees so much ruin that my father make a board fence so he ees hid, no?”
“No,” the man said.
Señora Miguerinio’s laughter was like bubbling water. “Ah, well, the turista love to stay in my old Spanish house, inside ees very old, ees what you call quaint, no?”
“Yes.”
“Si, señor, ees quaint. You speak my language, no?”
“No, only a few words.”
“You weel come in and sit down, no?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mason glanced at the grinning Garvin, frowned and placed his finger to his lips in a gesture for silence.
The man’s voice came through the open window.
“You have a Señor Edward Garvin and his wife staying here? He owns that big convertible in the driveway.”
“Oh, but certainly. The Señor Garvin, and the Señora. She ees beautiful, with the hair like red gold. And they have their fren’ the Señor Perry Mason weeth them.”
“The devil!” the voice exclaimed in irritation.
Mason walked over close to Garvin. “That voice,” he said, “is the voice of Lieutenant Tragg, of the Metropolitan police force. And if you don’t think he’s a smart cookie, just stick around.”
Señora Miguerinio said, “They are een these rooms now. Five and seex. If you are a fren’ of theirs they weel be glad to see you, no?”
“No,” Lieutenant Tragg said.
They heard a door close, then steps in the hallway, knuckles on the door. Mason opened the door.
“Well, well, Tragg! How are you?”
“Mason!” Tragg exclaimed. “And the estimable Miss Street. Well, Mason, I’m certainly glad to see you. I don’t get to see you very often these days.”
“It’s been a while,” Mason admitted. “Lieutenant, shake hands with Mr. Edward Garvin.”
“Glad to know you,” Lieutenant Tragg said.
Mason turned toward Lorraine Garvin at the far side of the room. “Mrs. Garvin, may I present Lieutenant Tragg of the Metropolitan police — Homicide Squad.”
Her smile was a wan motion of tight lips. Of a sudden, she seemed to be cowering by the closet door. “How do you do, Lieutenant? I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Tragg said to Edward Garvin, “You’ve heard about your wife?”
“Yes, I was shocked, surprised. I... I hardly know what to do.”
“There’s a good chance she was killed in Los Angeles and transported to Oceanside. That’s why I’m interested in the case. Now if you want to help,” Tragg said, “you can come on back and make arrangements for the funeral and while you’re back we’ll...”
“Arrest him on a bigamy complaint that was issued yesterday by the district attorney’s office,” Mason interpolated.
Tragg turned to Mason, said, “Now, that wasn’t necessary.”
“I merely wanted him to know what the score was,” Mason said.
“Now look,” Tragg said, in the voice one uses to an obstreperous child, “I want to talk with Mr. Garvin. I’m not going to hurt him, and he certainly has nothing to conceal, but there are some things about his wife’s death that I want to uncover. He can help me.”
“That’s fine,” Mason said. “We’ll both help.”
“I can get along without your help.”
“Come, come, Lieutenant. Two heads are better than one.”