The Case of the Curious Bride

"I know something of Carl's character. I learned it from talking to Rhoda. I know that he's impulsive and I know that he's weak. I know that he fears your disapproval more than anything on earth. I know that he values his family name because he has been taught to value it.

"I know that Moxley needed killing, if ever a man needed killing. I know that your son has never faced any real crisis in his life by himself. He has always had you to lean on. I know that when he first went to Moxley's apartment, he did so because he thought his wife was having an affair with Moxley. After he realized the true facts, he acted upon impulse, returned home in a panic and realized that he had left his garage key in Moxley's apartment. He had left the garage unlocked when he took out his car, and he had sense enough to leave it unlocked when he returned, so that Rhoda would find it unlocked. He knew by that time he had left his keys in Moxley's apartment and he had made his plan to steal Rhoda's keys so that it would appear her key container was the one left in the apartment. When it came down to a real test, your son didn't have guts enough and didn't have manhood enough to stand up and take it on the chin. He passed the buck to Rhoda.

"If your son had had simple manhood enough to have gone to the authorities and told his story, he could doubtless have made out a case of selfdefense. As it stands now, he can't do it. No one will believe him. Personally, I don't blame your son for the killing. I do blame him for trying to pass the buck. You're the one that I blame. I'm satisfied that you either knew what had happened or suspected what had happened. That was the reason you came to me and tried to get me to weaken Rhoda's defense by letting your son testify against her and by tying my hands so that I couldn't rip into him on crossexamination. Frankly, that was one of the first things that aroused my suspicions. I couldn't understand why a man of your character and intelligence would try to bribe me to let a client get a death penalty. I couldn't figure what motive would be powerful enough. And then I suddenly realized the only motive that could have been strong enough to have made you play your cards that way. That motive was a desire to save your son."

Montaine took a deep breath. "I'm licked," he said. "I realize now that I made fatal mistakes in the training I gave Carl. I know that he isn't a particularly strong character. When he wired me that he was married to a nurse I wanted to find out what sort of a woman she was. I wanted to find out in such a way that I could convince my son of his mistake and, at the same time, hold the whip hand over the woman. Therefore, I came to this city while my son thought I was still in Chicago. I had her shadowed night and day. I was kept advised of every move she made. My men were not regular detectives. They were confidential investigators whom I kept constantly in my employ."

Mason puckered his brows thoughtfully. "Why," he said, "the man who shadowed her from this office was the rankest kind of an amateur."

"That, Counselor," Montaine said, "was one of those peculiar coincidences which upset the most carefully laid plans. When Rhoda Montaine left your office she was shadowed by my man. That man was so shrewd even Paul Drake never suspected him. But remember that Carl, also, had become suspicious. He had hired a socalled private detective, who was little more than an amateur, to shadow Rhoda. By the use of that shadow he had discovered something about Doctor Millsap—I don't know just what."

Mason nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, "as soon as Carl told me about Doctor Millsap I felt certain he must have acquired the information by the use of a detective."

"One of my detectives," Montaine went on, "was on the job when Rhoda left the house to keep her appointment with Moxley. He tried to follow her, but she gave him the slip. Remember, it was late and the streets were almost deserted? He didn't dare to follow her too closely. When he lost her, he returned to the house and concealed himself. He was in time to see Carl return to the garage, park his car and enter the house."

"You knew, of course," Mason said, "the importance of this?"

"As soon as my detective made a report to me," Montaine said, "I realized the deadly significance of the information. By that time it was too late to do anything about it. The newspapers were on the street, and Carl had gone to the police. You see, I slept late that morning and my detectives didn't awaken me to give me the information. I had left orders that I wasn't to be disturbed under any circumstances. That was the first really serious blunder this detective had ever made. He obeyed orders."

"And," Mason said, "of course, he didn't appreciate the deadly significance of what he had discovered?"

"Not until after he read the later editions of the newspapers," Montaine said. He made a shrugging gesture with his shoulders. "However, Counselor, all of this is beside the point. I am in your hands. I presume, of course, you want money. Do you want anything else? Do you insist on communicating these facts to the district attorney?"

Perry Mason slowly shook his head. "No," he said, "I'm not going to tell the district attorney anything. This deposition was privately taken. I won't talk, and Della Street won't talk. The attorney who represented your son can't talk because he's bound professionally to protect Carl. It might, however, be a good thing if you would give him a rather substantial retainer to defend Carl in the event it should become necessary.

"Now, then, in regard to money: I want money for the work I did for Rhoda Montaine. I want you to put up that money. That, however, is a minor matter. The main thing I want is money for Rhoda."

"How much money?" Montaine asked.

"Lots of it," Mason said grimly. "Your son did her an irreparable wrong. We can forgive him; he was a weakling. But you did her an irreparable wrong, and, by God, we can't forgive you! You're an intelligent man and a strong man, and you're going to pay." Perry Mason's eyes burned steadily into those of the multimillionaire.

C. Phillip Montaine took out his checkbook. His face was utterly without expression. His lips were compressed into a thin line. "It would seem," he said, "that both my son and myself have, perhaps, taken too much credit because of our ancestors. It would seem to me that it is up to some one to redeem the family."

He took his fountain pen from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, deliberately signed two checks in blank and passed the signed checks over to Perry Mason. "You," he said in a voice that was steady, although his lips were trembling, "can assess the fine, Counselor."

Chapter 21

Late morning sun, streaming through the windows of Perry Mason's private office, fell across the big desk in splotches of golden light. The lawyer fitted a key to the exit door of his private office, flung open the door and stood to one side, motioning to Rhoda Montaine to enter. The woman's face showed the strain under which she had been laboring. Her cheeks, however, were flushed with color. Her eyes were sparkling.

She stood by the desk, looking about the office. Tears came to her eyes. "I was thinking," she said simply, "of the last time I saw this office—how independent I was, how I tried to lie to you, and the things that have happened since. And, if it hadn't been for you, I'd have been convicted of murder."

She shuddered. Perry Mason motioned her to a seat, and, as she sank into the big leather chair, dropped into his swivel chair and reached for a cigarette.

"I can't begin to tell you," Rhoda Montaine said, "how ashamed I am of myself. It would have been easier for you if I had followed your instructions. I knew that I was in an awful mess, but you could have worked me out without much trouble if I'd only had sense enough to put myself in your hands and follow your instructions.