"Isn't that," Montaine asked coldly, "being rather unfair to me?"

"No," Mason said, "I think not."

"I think so."

"Perhaps," Mason said, "because you haven't been fair with yourself. Perhaps you haven't gone so far as to analyze your motives and to determine just how far you are ready to go."

"Is it necessary, Counselor, that we should discuss my motives in order to get your answer to my proposition?"

"Yes."

"I don't see why."

"Because," Mason said, "your motives, for reasons which I shall presently discuss, may be of controlling importance."

"You still haven't given me an answer to my proposition."

"My answer," Mason said, "is an emphatic negative. I am called upon to defend Rhoda Montaine. I think it will be very much to her advantage to seal the lips of your son by insisting upon the legality of the marriage. Therefore, I shall contest any annulment suit."

"Perhaps you can't contest it."

"Perhaps."

"The district attorney feels certain that you can't. He says the matter is legally dead openandshut. I only came to you because I have a great respect for your mental agility."

Mason permitted himself to grin. "Do you mean ability or agility?" he asked.

"I mean agility," Montaine said.

Mason nodded slowly. "Perhaps," he said, "I can convince you that there is some ability, as well as some agility. For instance, let us now return to an analysis of your motives. You are proud of your family name. If Rhoda Montaine was legally married to your son and was executed for murder, it would be a black spot upon that family name. Therefore, ordinarily, you would reserve the proposition. If Rhoda Montaine was not your daughterinlaw, you wouldn't care whether she was convicted of murder or not. If the marriage was legal, you'd move heaven and earth to get her acquitted.

"Your proposition shows you'd do anything to get Rhoda out of the family. Offhand, I'd say this was because you recognize Rhoda's influence over your son. You wouldn't know of this casually. You must have acquired the information at first hand. I should, therefore, surmise that you didn't leave Chicago last night as you say you did, but that you have been here in this city for several days, keeping your presence a secret from both your son and Rhoda Montaine. I might even go farther and surmise that you employed detectives to shadow Rhoda, in order to find out just what sort of a woman she was, just what she was doing, and just how much Carl was actually under her influence.

"I might surmise, further, that you have some other marriage in view for Carl, a marriage which is, perhaps, of the greatest importance to you financially; that you want to have Carl legally free to enter into such a marriage."

Montaine got to his feet. His face was entirely without expression. "You are deducing these matters," he said, "merely from an analysis of my motives, Counselor?"

"Perhaps," Mason said, "I am thinking out loud."

Montaine said softly, "Perhaps you are, and then, again, it may have been rather a peculiar coincidence that the detective who left your office as I was waiting in the outer room found it necessary to return for a final word with you. I'll admit he did it rather cleverly. He looked at me casually, walked past me to the door and then suddenly 'remembered' that it was necessary for him to return to your private office."

"Then," Mason said, "you were here, spying upon Rhoda Montaine."

"You might say," Montaine said, "that I was gathering certain data."

"Does your son know this?"

"No."

"And you employed detectives to shadow Rhoda Montaine?"

"I think," Montaine said, "I have answered enough of your questions, Counselor. I have only one more statement to make—that is that you may feel you can make a valid legal claim against Carl for your services in defending Rhoda. Therefore, you feel you have nothing to lose by refusing to accept my offer. I want to assure you, however, that Carl has nothing in his own name and unless you do accept my offer, the chances that you will receive any remuneration for your work in behalf of Rhoda are exceedingly slim."

"Aren't you," Mason asked, "rather hard?"

"I am inflexible, if that is what you mean."

"That isn't what I meant."

Montaine bowed. "Well, Counselor," he said, "I think we understand each other perfectly. Think it over. Don't give me a final answer now. Despite your mental ability I might prove a dangerous adversary."

Mason held open the door to the corridor. "You've got my final answer," he said. "If you want war you can have it."

Montaine paused in the hallway. "Sleep on it," he suggested.

Mason said nothing, banged the door shut. He stood for a moment in thoughtful contemplation, then strode to the telephone, picked up the receiver, and, when he heard Della Street 's voice on the wire, said, "Get me Paul Drake, Della."

A moment later the telephone rang. Mason spoke swiftly. "Paul," he said, "we've got to work fast. Here's something I want you to get busy on right away: Moxley was a swindler. He specialized in swindling women. We know that some one telephoned Moxley a short time before he was murdered. We know that this some one was demanding money. That person is very likely to have been a woman. We know that on at least one occasion Moxley went through a marriage ceremony in order to get possession of some money he wanted. You're checking back on Moxley's life. As fast as you get an alias that he used, have your men cover the hotel registers and the public utility offices to see if a woman using one of those aliases as a married name has recently arrived in the city. We might locate the person who was putting the screws on Moxley before the police get the information."

"Good idea," Drake said. "How about Montaine? Do you think we should try to put a shadow on him?"

"No," Mason said. "It wouldn't do any good. He didn't come to my office until he was ready to. From now on, his life is going to be out in the open. We could shadow him until Doomsday, and wouldn't find anything. Whatever mischief he's been up to, he's been up to before he came here."

"I was right then," the detective inquired, "and he'd been here for several days?"

"Yes."

"Did he admit it?"

"Not until after I put the screws on him. He spotted you, and he knew you were a detective."

"What was he doing here?" Drake asked.

"That," Mason said, "is something we can only surmise. He wasn't talkative. There's more to this than we figure, Paul."

"He must have been following Rhoda," Drake said. "He must have shadowed her to your office."

"Yes, I think he did."

"Then, when Carl called on you," Drake said, "Carl must have known through his father that his wife had called on you."

"Yes, I think he did."

"Then the father and the son must be working together."

"That's an inference," the lawyer agreed, "but we've got to feel our way, Paul. We're going up against a tough combination."

Drake's voice betrayed a trace of excitement. "Look here, Perry," he said, "if Montaine was following Rhoda around, he must have known about Moxley."

"He did."

"Then he must have known about the appointment for two o'clock in the morning."

"He didn't admit that."

"Did you ask him about it?" Drake inquired.

Perry Mason laughed. "No," he said, "but I will."

"When?"

"At an opportune moment," the lawyer replied, "and I think you'd better forget about Montaine, Paul. He's an intelligent man and a ruthless man. For all of his vaunted family pride, he thought nothing whatever of sacrificing the life of Rhoda Montaine in order to further his own interests."

"Well, don't let him crawl out of the picture," Drake cautioned.

"Hell!" Mason exclaimed. "I'd no more let him crawl out of the picture than a kid would let Santa Claus crawl out of the picture around Christmas time."