Della Street had been gone less than five minutes when Mason heard a soft code knock on the door; one rap, a pause, four quick raps, a pause, then two raps.
The lawyer made sure the door to the north bedroom of the suite was closed, then crossed the parlor, opened the corridor door and saw Sid Nye on the threshold.
"Hi," Sid said. "I just thought I'd pass the word along that the police have a tip on Dianne."
"I know they do," Mason said. "Who gave it to them?"
"Probably Montrose Foster," Nye said. "It was an anonymous tip. I also wanted to let you know that you aren't going to have anything to worry about on that time schedule."
"What do you mean?"
"Moose Dillard had a wrestling match with his conscience and decided that it wasn't necessary for him to make any report to the police. Of course, if they question him it's going to be another matter."
"Did he get out of the place all right?" Mason asked.
"Like a charm," Nye said.
"What happened?"
"Actually it was pretty simple. I parked my car about a block down the street, walked up to the entrance to the parking place, walked toward the office of the motel as though I were going in there, then detoured around to the side and ducked in at Number 5."
"No one saw you?"
"I'm quite certain they didn't. They gave no indication if they did."
"Then what?"
"I scouted the place, then went outside and got in Dillard's car. He'd given me the keys to it. I started the motor, got it warmed up, then gave a signal to Moose. He came out and got in the car and we shot out of there fast."
"What did you do with the room key?" Mason asked.
"Moose said he left it inside."
"Then what?"
"I rode around with Moose for a while and talked with him. After that I had him take his car and I got my car. Moose went on his way and I came back here."
"You say you talked with him."
"That's right."
"What did you talk with him about?"
"You have two guesses."
"You didn't make any suggestion that he should duck out, did you?"
"Heavens, no. Far be it from me to make any suggestion like that-perish the thought! Of course, I pointed out to him that if the police wanted to question him they could, but he really didn't have any obligation to do anything except report to Paul Drake-and he's lost his notebook."
"Lost his notebook!" Mason said.
"That's right. It must have dropped from his pocket somewhere. Of course I pointed out to him that he'd cut rather a sorry figure if he didn't have that notebook."
"Look here, Sid, let's be frank. Did you steal that notebook or hide it?"
"Not in that sense of the word. Dillard feels it must have fallen out of his pocket when he was getting in his car. He had his coat over his arm and he tossed the coat into the car."
"Will the police find it?"
"I don't think so. I saw it when it dropped to the floor of the car. I also have a vague recollection of seeing something fall out when I opened the car door to let Dillard out. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time. I could go back and look in the gutter."
Mason frowned. "You can't afford to take chances with the police in a murder case, Sid."
"Sure. I know that. On the other hand, I'm not Diilard's guardian. The guy can go to the police later on if his conscience bothers him.
"Now, what happened in connection with this anonymous tip on Dianne? Did the police question her?" Nye asked.
"No."
"Why?"
"I wouldn't let them."
"The police must be pretty soft here in Riverside."
"I was pretty hard," Mason said. "If they'd had any evidence, they'd have taken her in, but to drag a nice young woman down to headquarters simply on the strength of an anonymous tip is poor business from a public relations standpoint.
"Do you know where Dillard went?"
"I wouldn't have the slightest idea," Nye said, looking up at the ceiling.
"Suppose we should happen to need him? Suppose we should want to get in touch with him in a hurry?"
"Wherever he is," Nye said, "I'm quite certain he reads, or will read, the Riverside papers, and any ad that was put in the classified column would undoubtedly get his attention."
"I see," Mason said.
"Well, I must be going," Nye told him. "I have quite a few things to do and I wouldn't be too surprised if they didn't put your suite here under surveillance a little later on. It might be just as well if I kept in touch with you by telephone."
"Your calls will go through a switchboard," Mason warned.
"Oh, sure," Nye said. "I wouldn't say anything that I wouldn't want everybody to hear. Of course if I should talk to you about moose hunting, you'll know what it's all about."
"Sure," Mason said, dryly.
"And I can tell you the most likely place we could go to find a moose."
"I'm quite certain," Mason said, "that the information would be of interest to me but only in the event I should want to hunt a moose. Right now I can't imagine anything that would be further from my thoughts."
Nye grinned, said, "You know where you can reach me if you want me," and went out.
For some ten minutes Mason paced the floor thoughtfully, smoking a cigarette, his head bent forward in frowning concentration.
Then the chimes sounded on the door.
Mason crossed over and opened it.
George Winlock stood on the threshold. "May I come in?" he asked.
"Certainly," Mason said. "Come right in, sit down."
Winlock entered, seated himself, regarded Mason thoughtfully from behind the tinted lenses of his glasses.
Mason said, "You don't need to wear those now, you know."
"I've worn them for fourteen years," Winlock said. "I really do need them now."
"You had something in mind?" Mason asked.
Winlock said, "I have a problem that's bothering me."
"What is it?"
"Dianne."
"What about her?"
"I have been pretty much of a heel as far as she is concerned."
"Do you expect me to argue that point with you?"
"Frankly I do not, but I want to make some sort of settlement, some sort of restitution."
"Such as what?"
"Property."
"A girl who has been attached to her father and then is led to believe that her father is dead, and subsequently finds out that he has been alive all of the time but hasn't cared enough about her to lift his finger to get in touch with her, is apt to have lost a good deal of her filial devotion."
"I can understand that. I thought perhaps you and I could discuss the property end of the situation and then later on, perhaps, Dianne could be made to see things from my viewpoint and realize that under the circumstances there wasn't much else I could have done."
"I'm afraid that's a viewpoint that will be pretty hard for her to grasp."
"However," Winlock said, "I see no reason for airing all of this in the press."
"It will be uncovered."
"I don't think so."
"I do," Mason said. "Montrose Foster, president of the Missing Heirs and Lost Estates, Inc., is on your trail."
"Exactly."
"You knew that?" Mason asked.
"I know it now."
"You can't hush anything up with Foster nosing around, prying into the background."
"I'm not entirely certain you're right," Winlock said. "Foster is basing his investigation upon the premise Dianne has some relative who died and left an estate in which she could share. Actually there was such a relative, a distant relative of mine, and the estate is small. I feel Foster can be handled in such a way he will go chasing off on a false trail."
"I see," Mason said.
"That leaves you," Winlock said.
"And Dianne," Mason reminded him.
"Dianne is a very considerate young woman. She isn't going to do anything that would ruin the lives of other people."
"Meaning the woman who is known as your wife?"
"Yes. I repeat, that leaves you, Mr. Mason."
"It leaves me."
"I could arrange to see that you received rather a large fee for representing Dianne, perhaps as much as a hundred thousand dollars."
"I'm representing Dianne," Mason said. "I'll do what's best for her."
"It won't be best for her to make a disclosure of my past and her relationship to me."
"How do you know it won't?"
"It would simply complicate matters and get her involved."
Mason said, "You're pretty influential here. The police have received an anonymous tip to question Dianne. You should have enough influence to get the police to disregard that anonymous tip. You don't want her questioned-now."
Winlock thought for a moment, then said, "Get her out of town."
"And then?" Mason asked.
"That's all there'll be to it."
"You can control the police investigation?"
"Within reasonable limits and indirectly, yes."
"That leaves the question of her property rights," Mason said.
"Her legal rights to any property are exceedingly nebulous."
"I don't think so," Mason said. "In this state, property acquired after marriage is community property."
"But I have been separated from my first wife for more than fourteen years."
"Forget the expression, your first wife," Mason said. "You had only one wife."
"Would that have anything to do with the subject under discussion?"
"A great deal."
"I'm afraid I fail to follow you, Mr. Mason. Eunice Alder is now dead. Property acquired during marriage is community property, but on the death of the wife that property automatically vests in the husband, subject, of course, to certain formalities. If you had approached me prior to the death of Eunice, the situation might have been very different. As matters now stand, I am quite definitely in the saddle."
"You may think you're in the saddle," Mason said, "but you're riding a bucking bronco and you can be thrown for quite a loss. Under the law the wife's interest in the community vests in the husband on her death unless she makes a will disposing of her interest in the community property. Your wife made such a will. Dianne is the beneficiary."
Winlock frowned thoughtfully. "How much would you want for Dianne?" he asked.
"How much have you got?"
"It depends on how it is evaluated."
"How do you evaluate it?"
"Perhaps three million, if you consider all of my equities."
"All right, what's your proposition?"
"I'll liquidate enough holdings to give Dianne five hundred thousand dollars. I will give her fifty thousand dollars in cash. I will pay her a hundred thousand dollars within ninety days. I'll pay the balance within a year."
"And in return for that?"
"In return for that I want absolute, complete silence about our relationship, about my past."
"All right," Mason said. "You're of age. You're supposed to know what you're doing. Now I'll tell you about Dianne. I'm not going to give you any answer. I'm not going to make you any proposition. I'm going to think things over and I'm going to play the cards in the way that will be in the best interests of Dianne Alder.
"If the police find out about her connection with Harrison T. Boring and question her about her business with Boring, it may well be to Dianne's advantage to disclose the relationship with you, and the whole background."
"Just so I can have the picture straight," Winlock said, "will you summarize briefly Dianne's business with Boring, just what it was?"
Mason said, "Boring found out about the relationship. He came to Dianne with a lot of legal hocus-pocus pretending he was interested in her as a model who was to appear on television and in movies in connection with the introduction of a new style in women's garments.
"Back of all that legal hocus-pocus, however, and the bait of television appearances, was the hook that he was to get one half of all of her gross income from any source, inheritance or otherwise. In return for that he was to pay her a hundred dollars a week.
"Last Saturday he sent her notice that the payments would be discontinued. That means he decided it would be better and more profitable as far as he was concerned to sink his hooks into you for blackmail rather than to let Dianne collect and then engage in litigation as to whether his contract was any good, whether it had been entered into under false pretenses, etc., etc.
"Dianne consulted me about the termination of the contract and the loss of the hundred-dollar-a-week income. She knew nothing about the reason back of the contract.
"I had my suspicions aroused because I was having Harrison Boring shadowed, and so I came to you earlier this evening. Dianne knew nothing about what I was doing. When Montrose Foster found her and convinced her that in order to protect her good name she must get the other signed copy of the contract back from Boring, she very foolishly failed to consult me but tried to take matters into her own hands."
"What did she do? Did she call on Boring?"
"I don't think I care to amplify my statement," Mason said. "However, the police are following up what apparently was an anonymous telephone tip and want to question her about Boring. They came here and tried to take her to headquarters. I refused to let her go. If they question her, it is quite possible the cat will be out of the bag. I'll do whatever will protect Dianne's best interests."
"And if they don't question her?" Winlock asked.
"Then," Mason said, "I'll take your proposition under advisement and discuss it with Dianne."
Winlock said, "Let me use the telephone, if I may."
He walked over to the telephone, called police headquarters, then after a few moments said, "Hello, this is George D. Winlock. I want to talk with Chief Preston. It's quite important that I- Oh, he is? Well, put him on, will you, please?"
There was a moment of silence, then Winlock said, "Hello, Chief? This is George Winlock. Look here, Chief, you sent someone to question a Dianne Alder at the Mission Inn. What did you want to see her about?"
Winlock was silent for nearly a minute while the telephone made harsh metallic sounds through the receiver.
Then Winiock said, "That's all it was? Just an anonymous telephone tip?.. - All right, Chief, look here. I happen to know something about Dianne Alder. Some people have been attempting to annoy her in connection with a television modeling contract which she has signed. There are matters of professional jealousy involved, and this anonymous telephone tip, I am satisfied, was inspired by reasons of personal spite and it wouldn't do the slightest good to question her but would embarrass her personally and- Well, thanks a lot, Chief. I thought I'd let you know. -.. All right, you speak to your men, will you? -.. Thanks a lot, good night."
Winlock hung up the telephone. "Does that answer your question, Mason?"
"That answers my question," Mason said.
"Get her out of town," Winlock said.
"Right at the present time," Mason said, "she's under sedation."
"Well, get her out first thing in the morning."
"Don't you want to see her?"
"She knows all about me?"
"She does now."
Winlock said, "Yes, I want to see her, but not here. The situation is too hot. I want her to return to Bolero Beach. I will get in touch with you about a meeting and talk with both you and her about a property settlement.
"In the meantime I trust that I can count on your discretion."
Mason said, "You can count on my doing what is best for Dianne's interests."
Winlock said, "Please tell her that I called, that she was under sedation, that it was therefore hardly a proper time or a proper place for me to see her. Please tell her that I am using my influence to protect her from any disagreeable publicity, and that I would like to have her reserve judgment about what I have done until she has a chance to hear my side of the story.
"And you might also explain to her," Winlock went on, "that I have interceded personally with the police to see that she is not annoyed."
"That much I can promise you I'll do," Mason said.
Winlock extended his hand. "Thank you very much, Mr. Mason, and good night."
"Good night," Mason said, and escorted him to the door.