Boy's Cinema (1935-39)

Iff upon it, wlien one of the detectives caught sight of him. "Say, who me you?" he bellowed. Perry winlvcd at the staring butler . "Just working my way through college," he said pleasantly, and he went out to the stairs, met the nurse in the upper liall, and handed her the tray. A few minutes later he re-entered the diav.'ing-i'oom. Carl Gridiu had been transferred to a chesterfield, and Wilbur Strong was sittmg beside him. It seemed to Perry more than likely that the coroner had given the young man something to counteract the effects of the drinli he had consumed, for his voice was clearer and his eyes were brighter. " Yes," iie was saying, " Uncle Oeorgo like'd me, and he didn't like his wife." "Now, look here, Griffin," said Hoff- man gruffly, "thiH is a murder case, anri you seem to bo playing 'button, button Avho's got the button.' How about that comment you made to the effect that Mrs. Beltei " "I don't remember that coiiiment, sergeant," Cail Griffin interrupted, ''and I certainly didn't mean it." " Well, maybe you didn't mean it, my alcoholic friend,'' said Perry, stepping forward, "but you certfiinly managed to drive home a thought." ffofiimn was furious. ''That'll do for ,>ou, Perry!" he said in a most inifricndli' fashion. "You can keep quiet, or got out!" "Okay, sergeant," returned Perrj meekly, "but remember you can't con vict a woman initil she's proved guilty beyond a reasonable doubt." "Yon can get out!" fumed Hoffman "I'm going, sei'geant," said Perry with a sneeze. '" You forget this is mj' %vedding night. I'll be at Pinehurst if you want to reach me." Wanted for Questioning '. PERRY had not long driven away from the house when newspaper reporters and Press photographers invaded it. Eva Belter was summonea from lier room and descended witfi the nurse clad in a very elaborate negligee, and in the drawing-room she was con ducted to a comfortable chair in which she reclined languidly. "Are you sure you feel all right, Mrs. Belter?" inquired Hoffman as the reporters and photographers gathered round the chair. "Quito all right, thank you," she replied in a dreamy voice. Flash-lamps blazed, and then Hoffman waved the photographers aside while the reporters took out notebooks and pencils. "Now about that voice you heard, said the sergeant. " I told j'ou I thought I recognised another man's voice when my husband was having the argument," returned Eva Belter slowly and in a fashion that suggested she was finding it difficult to marshal her thoughts. "Just before the shot." "Yes, yes, of course," said Hoffman. "Well, perhaps I—shouldn't, but— but it—it was Perry Mason's " "Perry Mason's'r'' Hoffman repeated in astonishment. She nodded, and her head drooped. " You see, I Oil, I—I feel so sleepy, I " Her eyes closed and she slumped in the chair. The drugged milk had done its work. Hoffman tried to rou^e her, but in vain, and he turned to one of his assistants. "Jones " hi ^aid tersely, "go and get P(>rry Mason!" January 0th, 1937. BOY'S CINEMA "You bet!" The detective addressed beckoned to an undersized but power- fully built colleague. "Come on. Shorty!" " You know, I don't think Perry went to Piuchurst at all," intervened Wilbur Strong. "Better try his flat first." The two detectives went out. " What do you suppose happened to her?" Hoffman said blankly to the coroner. "Nurse, what's wrong with her?" "I don't know," the nurse replied. "She was all right when I gave lier the hot milk." Perry reached Jefferson Square in almost record time, the streets of San Francisco being deserted at that early hour in the morning. He put the saloon away in its garage and climbed the stairs to his flat. The flat was in darkness, and Delia was in bed. He crept into the room, switched on a shaded light, and sat down on the edge of the bed; where- upon she sat bolt upright in it and eyed him almost as though he were a stranger. "1 know, I know, my darling—my wonderful darling," he said, putting an arm round her and sealing her pouting lips with a kiss. " But I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave you again." There arose a noisj' banging at the front door, and a voice that demanded it should be opened. Ping, apparently, was dead asleep, but Spudsy was in the act of retiring and had not yet removed his imdorclothes. He went to the front door in them, and he yelled at the key hole: "Say, who do you think you are?" " Herbert B. Jones of the homicide squad," was the shouted reply. "We want Perry Mason!" Perry kissed his disconsolate bride and made for a window, which he opened. "So the brilliant attorney retired from the practice of criminal law!" said she with bitterness as he climbed out on to a fire-escape. The voice of Jones was heard, threatening to break down the front door "Watt till I get my trousers on, will you?" bellowed Spudsy. Perry put his head in at the bed-room windo\v, and Delia slipped out from the bed and ran over to him. "Darling," he said, "I'll be at the Ripley Hotel, registered under the name of Fred P. Crosby of Detroit." "I like Detroit, don't you, Fred?" she mocked. "Y'^cs, Mrs. Crosby," he laughed—and began to descend the iron ladderway. A few noi.sy minutes elapsed, and then Jones, who had brought a number of jjoliccmen with him as well as Shorty, lost all patience and burst open the front door with the aid of his com- panions. Spudsy tried to bar the way, but was sent sprawling. "Mike, take a look round," directed Jones. "Joe, stay with the door. The rest of you men come with me." Delia scrambled back into bed and pidled the sheets and blankets up to her chin a moment before the detective entered the room with Shorty and tfiree policemen. " Where's Perry Mason ?" he de- manded harshly. "Answer my ques- tion! Where's Perry Mason?" Delia pretended to weep. "Oh—oh, I—I wish you hadn't asked me about my husband, officer," she whimpered. "When first we were mar- ried ho was so thoughtful—so kind—so attentive—so devoted. But—but/—now— now be leaves me for long periods at a time. He's tired of me, officer!" Herbert B. Jones became tired of her. Every Tuesday too, and after lie had made sure that^ Perry Mason was nowhere in the flat;' departed with his horde. '^' The rest of the night passed^ and in all the morning papers it was stated that the police were searching for Perry Mason, crime specialist, who was wanted for questioning in connection with the murder of George C. Belter. The Ripley Hotel was a middle-class establishment in Stanford Street, and Pony had slept none too well in one of its numerous rooms because he was in the throes of a fierce cold as well as wanted by the police. At ten o'clock in the morning he rang up his flat, and Delia answeied. "Where's Spudsy?" he sneezed. " Tell him I want two dozen handker- chiefs." "What a cold you have, Mr. Crosby, ' said Delia. "No, 1 don't know wheio you'll find Mr. Mason. Frank Locke is anxious to see him, too." ''Frank Locke?" Perry sneezed twice. "Well, that's news! Get in touch with' Frank Locke, Tell him to meet me in fifteen minutes at—er " He glanced out through the panes of a window near which he wa-- standing and perceived a quaintly fronted bookshop across the/ street, "At the Shakespeare Shoppe. in Stanford Street. Got it? Okay. 1 love you!" About twenty minutes later Frank Locke walked into the Shakespeare Shoppe and found Perry aiiparently ab- sorbed in a volume he had taken from a shelf. "Oh, so there you are, shj-ster!" he snapped. Perry returned "Two Thousand Years in Sing-Sing " to the shelf on which it belonged. "I'd advise you to lower your voice," he said with a jerk of his thumb in the direction of the bookseller, who was hovering behind a counter. "Well, have you decided to kill that Belter-Milnor story?" " Yeah, chisoller," snarled Locke, " I've built up a whole new front page. That's only a sul)-feature now. I'm de- voting my leading story to you, Mrs. Belter talked, see?" "This—er—story you mention," drawled Perry. "Will it be—er—an interview, or what I think of the New Deal?" "'Spicy Bits,'" retorted Locke, "is going to accuse you of the murder of George C. Belter—and, what's more, we're gonna make it stick !" "Fortunately," said Perry, "this State has libel laws, my friend." "You found out that Belter owned this paper," jeered I.,ocke. "Sue him— he won't mind ! And then you'd better hire yourself a smart lawyer—you'll need one I" He went off, highly pleased with him-'- self, and Perry drifted over to the; counter. "Have you a 'phone I could use?" he asked. The bookseller immediately invited him to use his' own instrument, and escorted him into a book-littered room behind the shop. At a desk in the room Perry put through a long-distance call to Atlanta, the capital of Georgia. The " Framing " of Frank Locke BACK in his room at the Ripley Hotel, Perry had to wait a long while for the two dozen handker- chiefs for which he had asked, but when Spudsy brought them to him he brought also a telegram and a photograph. The photograph was undoubtedly of Frank Locke, although it was labelled