"One of our men is working on that right now," Samuels said. "It is, of course, going to be rather difficult, but —"

"Hang the difficulties," Perry Mason said. "The world is full of difficulties. I've got plenty of my own. Listen in on her telephone conversations; I want to know what they are."

"Very well, Mr. Mason," said Samuels, "we'll do the best we can."

Perry Mason pulled down the receiver with the middle finger of his left hand, fumbled in his pocket for another coin, dropped it and called the Drake Detective Bureau.

Drake himself answered the telephone.

"Sitting there waiting for calls, Paul?" asked the lawyer.

Drake laughed. "You pretty near called the turn at that," he said.

"Anything to report?" asked Perry Mason.

"I've got lots to report," Paul Drake told him. "I think you can go home now and go to bed, Perry."

"Why?"

"The murder mystery is all solved."

"What do you mean?"

"The police have traced the knife."

"You mean the knife that did the stabbing?"

"Yes."

"Where have they traced it to?"

"To the man that bought it."

"Have they identified the man that bought it?"

"Virtually, yes. They have a description that tallies on every essential point."

"Who bought it?" asked Perry Mason.

"Your friend, Dr. Robert Doray of Cloverdale," Paul Drake retorted with something of a verbal flourish.

"Go on," said Perry Mason, "tell me the rest of it."

"That's about all of it," Paul Drake said. "The police tried to check the knife. They've been working on that ever since they discovered the body, and the price mark that was on the blade of the knife. You see, there was a cost price, as well as a sales price, on the knife. There's been an advance in prices on that stuff, and from the cost price they knew that the knife was part of a new stock that had been purchased at the increased price, since there was no other and older cost mark on it, and no sign of one having been on it and having been erased."

"Go on," Mason said.

"They figured first that the knife came from a hardware store. The wrapping paper was a little bit heavier than is ordinarily used in the ten, fifteen and twentyfive cent stores. They got the heads of the hardware jobbers out of bed, got them to get in touch with their salesmen by telephone and try and find a retailer who used that particular cost code. It looked like a wildgoose chase, but they were lucky. Almost at once they got in touch with a hardware salesman who was familiar with a retail hardware store on Belmont Street that used that cost code, and the hardware salesman remembered this dealer had purchased a dozen of those knives not less than ten days ago. The police got in touch with the dealer. The dealer remembered the sale of the knife and gave a pretty fair description of the man. The description was that of Dr. Doray. The police got in touch with the newspaper offices, found one that had a file of the Cloverdale papers, prowled through the Cloverdale papers until they found a picture of Dr. Doray. He'd been an official in the Community Chest drive, and his picture had been in the paper. It was a newspaper photograph, but had enough to it to furnish the basis for an identification. The hardware dealer has made an absolute identification. There's no question in his mind but what Dr. Doray was the man who purchased the knife.

"The police feel they've pulled a nice piece of work, and they're throwing out a drag net for Doray. Apparently he's skipped out, and, incidentally, that puts you in a funny light."

"Why?" asked Perry Mason.

"On account of that telephone message which apparently came from your office, and which tipped Doray off to what was happening. The police are pretty much worked up about it. I don't mind telling you in confidence that you're going to have some trouble over it, and, incidentally, I don't think Bradbury likes it very well."

"To hell with Bradbury," Perry Mason said. "I didn't call up Doray, and, what's more, my office didn't call up."

"Well," Paul Drake remarked cheerfully, "if you say that you didn't, and Della Street says she didn't there's not much the police can do about it; not unless they should pick up Doray and he should tell them something different."

"That wouldn't change the situation any," Mason said. "Doray certainly doesn't know the voice of my secretary well enough to have recognized it, or to swear that he did. All that he knows is that some woman said she was Della Street. It's easy enough to do that. I could ring up Bradbury and tell him that I was Paul Drake, and tell him he'd better get out of the country."

Paul Drake laughed. He seemed in a very good humor, indeed.

"Well," he said, "I should waste my time telling you law points. But here's something you do want to be careful of."

"What's that?"

"Marjorie Clune."

"What about her?"

"The police have established in some way that Marjorie Clune and Dr. Doray drove together to the vicinity of Patton's apartment. They've located some one who had a little confectionery store in front of the fire plug where Doray parked his car. He remembers when the car drove up, and remembers that a man and a woman got out of it. The description of the man is that of Dr. Doray and the description of the woman tallies with Marjorie Clune. The confectionery dealer is one of those birds who get a great delight out of other persons' misfortunes. He's seen lots of people park their cars in front of that fire plug and get tagged. He likes to look at their facial expressions when they come back and find the tag dangling on the steering wheel, so he happened to notice Doray and Marjorie Clune pretty closely."

"Have the police explained anything about that blackjack yet?" Perry Mason asked.

"No, that probably isn't going to enter into the case particularly."

"Why not?"

"Because the crime wasn't committed with it. It hasn't anything more to do with the crime than the cane that was lying on the table—not as much, because the cane can be identified as having belonged to Patton, whereas no one knows who that blackjack belongs to."

"In other words," Mason said, "the police figure the case is closed, is that it?"

"That's just about it."

"And you think that I'm going to get in over my necktie?"

"I'm just warning you," Drake said. "I know that you've been working on that Marjorie Clune angle of the case. I just don't want you to get in a jam for compounding a felony, or becoming an accessory after the fact."

"While you're on the line," Perry Mason said, "I'll tell you a little law, Paul: You can't compound a felony if a felony hasn't been committed. On the other hand, you can't become an accessory by aiding a person who isn't guilty of anything. If your principal isn't guilty, you aren't guilty, no matter what you do."

"You figure that Marjorie Clune is innocent?" Drake asked.

"Marjorie Clune," said Perry Mason with grave dignity, "is my client. Is it fair to ask what you're waiting for, Paul?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're waiting in your office. You're sitting right there at the telephone. You're waiting for something. Is it fair to ask what it is?"

The detective's tone was hurt.

"Now listen, Perry," he said, "I told you that I wouldn't accept any employment that was adverse to your interests. I've had that understanding with Bradbury, and I thought I had that understanding with you. The employment that this young woman gave me didn't conflict in any way with the employment you folks gave me. In fact, I figured that it checked right in. She claims that Marjorie Clune is innocent, but that Doray is the murderer; that Marjorie Clune may try to protect Doray, and —"

"I know all that stuff," Perry Mason said. "But that still doesn't tell me what you're waiting for."