The Case of the Careless Skier
Chapter 12
Paul Drake sat in the back of the taxi cab. In his hand was the envelope that Sadie had given him. He was headed for the bank to see Ben Redman. Paul knew that he had to read the letter before he arrived there. Yet, something was stopping him from opening the envelope and removing the letter. Was he scared of what he might find out? What was keeping him from doing his job?
Maybe Perry had been right all along. Maybe he was too close to the situation to be objective. He cared for Tracy, he knew that. He wanted things to work out. How could they when she obviously was not capable of being honest with him?
Paul shook his head, trying to clear the cloud that was threatening to engulf his thinking. He had a job to do. Perry needed information and he had to get it for him. It didn't matter how it affected him, he had to get to the bottom of what had been going on in New York.
He looked down at the envelope in his hand. How long was he going to avoid opening it and reading its contents? Something inside told him that he wasn't going to like it. His instincts rarely failed him. He doubted that they would this time either.
Paul broke the seal on the envelope and raised the flap. He sat there not going any further. He had to know what was in it before he confronted Redman. He was certain that the information in the envelope would help him to get Redman to talk to him.
Slowly, Drake pulled the letter out of the envelope and opened it. As he began reading, he tried to divorce himself from the situation and treat it as just any other case. Unfortunately, the contents would not allow that.
*
Lieutenant Arthur Tragg turned up the collar of his jacket. He knew it was going to be cold here, but he just simply wasn't prepared for the bitterness of the cold or the wind. Why would anyone choose to live in the snow-covered tundra? For that matter, it did not make any sense to him that his friends, who lived in a fairly consistent climate, would come here and freeze off their... well he would keep the comments to himself. He had a job to do. He just wished that Mason would take his vacations in a warmer climate, if he was going to drag him into it. He supposed he had done enough grumbling and complaining about the weather to himself. Maybe he would feel better if he did the grumbling and complaining to Mason. He was the one that had dragged him into this godforsaken cold.
He looked over at the ski lift and saw the man he wanted to speak with. Guy McHenry didn't know it yet, but he was going to miss that first lift. Tragg walked over to him, reached into his parka and pulled out his badge. He was about to pull a "Paul Drake." His badge had no jurisdiction in this area. Therefore, he would only flash it in the manner he knew Drake flashed his, when he wanted an individual he needed to question to think he was a police officer rather than a private detective. Damn Mason and Drake for turning him into one of them!!
Flashing his badge at McHenry, he told him, "I'm Lieutenant Tragg. I have some questions I need to ask you."
McHenry's behavior immediately became defensive. "What about?"
"You are from New York City, is that correct?" After he asked the question, Tragg wondered why he gave the young man an opportunity to lie to him. He should have just made a statement.
"Why do you want to know?" McHenry responded with a question of his own.
"The dead man, Richard Barrett was from New York City. That's why I want to know. Did you know Barrett?"
"Just because I am from New York doesn't mean I know him."
"Doesn't mean you don't," Tragg countered.
McHenry stood there trying to decide whether or not to talk to the lieutenant. He certainly did not want to be pulled into police headquarters and questioned there. Maybe he could use a little misdirection and get this cop off his trail.
"Yeah, alright, I knew the man, so what?"
The lieutenant wondered if he was ever going to encounter someone who just answered his questions with polite responses. This was all Mason's fault. Well, maybe it wasn't, but he felt better placing the blame on him.
"So what was the connection to him?" The lieutenant asked him.
"Who says I had any connection to him?"
Tragg could tell it was going to be one of those days. He was going to have to drag every answer out of this kid. "I say you had a connection. I have checked into both you and him enough to know that you were working together conning people out of their money. In particular, men who couldn't resist the women that you most conveniently provided for them."
"So what? Prove it. I doubt that you can."
"So tell me Mister McHenry, was Barrett trying to cheat you out of your share of the take? It would give you a pretty strong motive to kill him."
"Nice try, Lieutenant, but I understand that the police already have their killer. Too bad you aren't checking into her the way you are me. You would find out that she was a prostitute who was trying to keep more money than she was allowed to. I have no doubt that Barrett called her on it. Nor do I have any doubt that she killed him." It dawned on Guy that this cop should not be looking for another suspect since it was in the papers that the police arrested Tracy Hanton for Richard's murder. Exactly who was this cop? He decided to find out. "I want to see your badge again, Lieutenant. I don't believe you are a cop at all. I am not answering any more of your questions until you produce it."
Tragg wondered how Drake got away with this. This was the first time he flashed his badge at someone, and now he was asking to see it again. He should have taken some tips from Drake as to how he got away with it before he left for New York. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket, knowing the minute McHenry looked at it, the conversation would come to an end. Mason would have to get his answers on the stand.
McHenry looked at the badge. He grinned at Tragg and said, "You're not a cop from this area. You are a Los Angeles police officer. I happen to know you have no jurisdiction here whatsoever. So this conversation is at an end. I don't have to answer your questions."
The lieutenant was prepared for this response. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a subpoena. "No, you don't have to answer my questions, but you will have to answer Perry Mason's questions on the witness stand." He slammed the subpoena into Guy McHenry's hand. "That's a subpoena. You are going to be a witness for the defense. I wouldn't leave town if I were you. You will be arrested and brought back. Have a nice day." Tragg tipped his hat, turned and walked away.
*
Perry finished his dinner. Looking at Della sitting across from him, she seemed to be a million miles away. He wondered why she had been so quiet all during dinner. She was worried about Paul, as he was. It was not like her not to express herself to him. "Della, you have not said one word through our entire dinner. Is there something wrong?"
She looked at him and smiled. "There is a lot wrong, don't you think?"
"Paul?"
"Perry, it just bothers me that he is in New York by himself and that we are not there for him," she said.
"Are you saying that you disagree with my decision to send him there?"
"No. You were right. You had to get him away from Tracy. I just feel we are not there for him when he needs us."
"I really don't think there is anything that we can do. This is something that he has to work out for himself. Besides, I have a feeling if he can handle what he finds out, then he can handle anything to do with this case, and more importantly with Tracy."
"But he is all alone," Della said.
"Della, I don't mean to sound as if I don't care, because I do, but Paul is the only one that can work this out. He has to decide how much he can handle. He is a strong man, he will be okay."
"I know you are right. I just can't help but worry about him." Della noticed that she had lost Perry's attention. She looked in the direction he was staring. There was a young woman entering the dining room of the lodge. Mason seemed to recognize her. She was alone and she had been crying.
Della watched the lawyer for a moment before saying, "Do you know her?"
Perry realized he had been staring at the girl. "I know that woman, Della."
Della smiled. "Just Exactly how do you know her?"
"Remember last year when I went to New York to address that convention of lawyers?"
"Oh, you mean the one that you would not let me go with you?"
Mason grinned. "You are not going to let me forget that, are you?"
"You left me with the office to run while you went to enjoy the Big Apple."
"Are we going to go through that again? I needed you at the office. Anyway, after the conference was over, one of the New York lawyers knew some girls. They brought them into the hotel. That girl is the one that was brought to me."
Della raised an eyebrow. "Prostitutes?"
"That's right."
Della's eyebrow went up a little further.
Perry realized what she must be thinking. "Della, I sent her away. You don't really think I would... " His discomfort was obvious.
"No. Not if you know what is good for you, Mister Mason."
Mason laughed. "You are enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"You didn't even consider it?"
He chuckled. "I have the best woman on the planet. I don't have any desire for any other."
"Attorneys always know what to say."
"I tell it like it is."
Della looked back at the woman who had taken a seat at a table. "A prostitute from New York. A coincidence?"
"I don't think so, but it is possible that she is not related to this case at all," Perry said.
"You really don't believe that, do you?"
"No, I don't believe in coincidences. I believe her name is Susan Shultz."
Della was smiling again. "You remember her name?"
Mason grinned. "I have a good memory for names."
"I bet. Aren't you going to talk to her?" Della asked.
"No, you are going to talk to her. I think she will be more likely to talk to you than me," Perry said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a subpoena. "I got several of these. They are generic and do not have a name on them, but they are just as good. I want you to give this to her when you're done talking to her.
"I was afraid you were going to say that. You should at least get out of sight. She might recognize you."
Mason slipped out of his chair and moved to an area of the dining room he could not be seen.
Della got up and walked over to Susan Shultz. "May I join you?"
"Why? We don't know each other." Shultz looked up at Della. The woman looked familiar to her. She wondered where she had seen her before.
"I noticed you were upset. I thought I might be able to help," Della said softly.
"Well you can't, unless you are willing to give me money. I need money, okay?"
Della sat down. "I'm a good listener."
Susan glanced at Della again. She was certain that she had seen this woman before. Why was she so eager to help her? "Who are you?"
"My name is Della Street."
Susan's eyes widen. This woman worked for the attorney that Richard had arranged for her to spend the night with in New York last year. She remembered him clearly. He was tall, a big man with broad shoulders and a large chest and extremely handsome. He had a smile that revealed dimples, and he was very charming. Richard had said he was rich. He had wanted her to draw him in so that they could swindle him out of a lot of money. Only the lawyer had told her he wasn't interested. He was in a relationship. He left her standing in the hall when he went into his motel room and shut the door.
Richard had been watching. He was very upset with her that she had not convinced the lawyer to spend the night with her. There was no money to be made from the man. Perry Mason! That is who he was! He was the lawyer that was defending the woman accused of killing Richard. Now it was obvious why she was here. Mason had sent her.
"Why don't you tell me what it is you want instead of pretending that you want to help."
"Because I do want to help you, Susan."
"Since you know who I am, Mason must have told you what happened in New York. Are you the woman he is involved with? He sent me away for you, if you are she. He left me standing in the hall. I got into a lot of trouble that night. I was supposed to make a lot of money off of him. He was the wealthiest of all the lawyers that were there."
Della decided to take a chance. "What did Richard Barrett do to you?" she asked softly.
"He beat me up and... " She realized that she had confirmed that it was Richard she was working for. "What do you want?"
"Perry Mason is defending Tracy Hanton. He does not believe that she killed Richard Barrett. He is trying to figure out who killed him in order to clear Tracy."
"She should not be on trial, they should give her a medal. He deserved what he got. He was a horrible human being, a monster."
"Do you know of any other girls that he abused" Della asked.
"He abused every girl he came in contact with. He was nothing more than an animal. I am glad she put him out of his misery. She did a lot of girls a favor. She saved them from him. I applaud her," Susan said.
"Susan, why are you here in Colarado?" Della asked.
Susan Shultz eyed Della with distrust. "That really is not any of your business, Miss Street, but I will tell you anyway because I have nothing to hide. I came here to confront Richard. He tried to ruin me. I wanted out from his control. I wanted to get my life together, so I decided to get a real job. In fact, I got several of them. Richard would find out and go to my employer. You see, the sleaze kept photos. He would show them to the employer who would fire me. None of them wanted such an undesirable working for them. One of them even hit on me. I have office skills, I could get a job fairly easily, but Richard wanted me working for him so he would interfere with every job I got. I even met this really nice guy and started seeing him. That ended too when Richard went to him and told him what I had been doing while in his employ.
"You see, I hated the man, but I didn't kill him."
"Where were you the day he was murdered?" Della asked.
Now a bit wary of the lawyer's secretary, she contemplated whether she should answer her. Well, she did have an alibi, didn't she? "I was with Jimmy Essex. You can check with him. He will confirm it."
Della smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Mason will certainly appreciate it." She reached into her purse and pulled out a subpoena. She set it down beside Susan.
"What's that?" Susan asked.
"A subpoena. Mister Mason would like you to be a witness for the defense."
"I don't want to be a witness for anyone, I will not be in court," Susan said. "I have to go back to New York."
"I am afraid you do not have any choice. If you do not appear Mister Mason will have a warrant sworn out for your arrest."
"He can't do that!"
"Oh, but I am afraid he can," Della said. She turned and left the table.
When she reached the place in which Mason had concealed himself, he stepped out and took Della by the elbow. "Nice job, Miss Street. I don't think I could have gotten that much information out of her."
"Perry, I know all this is necessary, but I cannot help but feel for these girls. Richard Barrett used them and abused them."
"I know that, Della, but you might consider that Susan Schultz had the motive to kill Richard Barrett, and I must show the court that Tracy was not the only one with motive and opportunity."
"I know. It is just that so many lives have been destroyed by this man," Della said.
"And one of them killed him for it. It is our job to figure out which one did it. Now, let's go talk to Jimmy Essex. I am betting that they weren't together at all."
Mason guided Della out of the dining room. "I thought you were going to feed me dessert, Perry."
He grinned down at her. "And I will, just as soon as we talk to Essex."
*
Paul read and reread the note that Ben Redman had left at the apartment building for Tracy. He could not believe what it had said. Actually, he did believe it. He had suspected it and so had Perry. Why didn't she tell him what she had been doing in New York? Then again, why would she? She would have been afraid of the reaction that he was having right now. He looked down and read the note one more time, as if he was wishing the words would change to something else.
Tracy,
I want the money back. If the bank finds out it is missing, they will check into what I have been doing. I cannot afford for them to find out that I have lost one-hundred-ten thousand dollars . I will put them on to your vocation. Prostitution is against the law. You will be arrested and so will Richard. I am sure you do not want that. I paid you well for your services, more than you deserved, actually. You and Barrett took me for a sucker and stole from my bank. It was not my money and you are going to return it. If I am going to lose my job and go to jail, you and Barrett are going to lose plenty. Maybe even your life. If I can't prove to them that you stole the money, I will kill both of you for ruining my life.
Paul read it again and again. Prostitution! Stealing money from a bank! Good God, what had he gotten himself into? He could not believe it. It was even worse than Perry had thought. What was he going to do? How could he ever forgive her for keeping this from him? How could she possibly expect to go on with her life as if none of this had ever happened?
He finally found the courage to enter the Wells Fargo Bank. He looked around the bank to see if he could determine where the president's office was. When he did not see it, he walked over to the receptionist's desk. "My name is Paul Drake. I am here to see Ben Redman."
She started searching the calendar in front of her. When she could not find any appointment for Paul Drake with Mister Redman, she looked up at the detective and said, "I am sorry, Mister Drake, but I do not show an appointment for you with Mister Redman. He doesn't see anyone without an appointment."
"He will see me," Drake insisted. "Just tell him my name and tell him I am here to see him about Tracy Hanton and Richard Barrett."
"Sir, I am sorry but you will have to state your business and make an appointment," she insisted.
"I would suggest you tell him because if I don't see him, he is going to be in a lot of trouble," Paul said.
The employee looked at Drake silently for a moment and then said. "If you will excuse me for a moment, I will check with him to see if he will see you." She got up and disappeared to the back of the bank.
Paul looked around the bank. No one was paying any attention to him so he assumed he had kept his voice low enough that no one but the one employee had heard him.
A few minutes later the woman returned to the desk. Mister Redman will see you now, Mister Drake. If you will follow me, I will take you back to his office."
Paul followed her to the back of the bank, which led to the private offices of the employees that did not work the teller windows or handle customer needs and complaints. They arrived at the very back where an office stood all by itself at the end of a hall. She knocked on the door and Drake heard a voice tell them to come in.
"Mister Drake, this is Mister Redman." Having introduced them, she left immediately to resume her duties.
"I don't think I know you," Redman said to Drake.
"You don't. I work for a Los Angeles attorney. I am sure you have heard of him... Perry Mason."
"I've heard of him. What does he have to do with me?" Redman asked.
"You are acquainted with Tracy Hanton and Richard Barrett, are you not?" Drake asked.
Redman stared at him. He was not about to offer anything to this man until he had some kind of idea what he was here for. "Who wants to know?"
"Perry Mason," Drake responded.
"Why?"
"He is representing a client that is accused of the murder of Richard Barrett," Paul told him.
One would have thought that he had just seen a ghost. His face paled and his expression was almost that of terror. "Richard has been murdered?"
"That's right, Mister Redman. Tracy Hanton has been arrested for his murder."
"Did she do it?" Redman asked.
"Perry Mason doesn't think so."
The bank president looked like he was about to panic, and Paul had a pretty good idea why. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and showed it to Redman. "Does this look familiar?"
"Where did you get that?" he shouted.
"How I got it doesn't matter. What is in it does. Suppose you tell me how Barrett was able to steal one-hundred-ten thousand from this bank."
"What do you intend to do with the information?"
"Give it to Mason."
"I don't think I am going to talk to you any further. I would appreciate if you left my office, Mister Drake."
Paul stood up. "Alright, I will go to your board of directors with what I have found." Paul headed towards the door.
Redman shot out of his chair. "No! You can't do that!"
"I can and will until you cooperate."
"Alright, come back here. I will tell you what you want to know."
Paul sat back down. "How did Barrett get the money from the bank?"
He set me up with Tracy. You know, a little sex on the side. My wife and I don't... "
"I get the picture," Paul said, interrupting him. "Go on."
"Well, I was spending a lot of time with her. I would leave the bank at noon and meet her at her apartment. We would have sex and I would return to the bank.
Paul could feel the lump in his throat. He didn't want to hear this, but he had to. He tried to keep a poker face like the one Perry had perfected. He wasn't sure he was doing very well. Even if his face was able to maintain it, he was sure that his eyes betrayed him.
"We spent more and more time together, nearly every day. I started coming to work on Saturday as well so that I could see Tracy. I don't know why, she's a prostitute for cripes sake. I just could not help myself. I wanted to see her. We started talking and she would ask questions about my job. One day I discovered my wallet was missing. I had left her apartment without it. I tried reaching her by phone, but she never returned my calls.
"Then when I was going over some of our accounts, I discovered that there was a very large withdrawal out of the account."
"One-hundred-ten-thousand dollars," Drake said.
"That's right. When I checked to see whose security code had been used, it was mine. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where it went. I finally reached Tracy and she swore she knew nothing about it. I decided to complain to Richard Barrett, after all, he was the one that introduced her to me. He told me not to worry, he had found my wallet in her apartment between the bed and the night stand. He used the number to get into the account. He told me he had invested the money and that I would get half of everything that it made. I made it clear to him that he had to return the money immediately, but he just laughed at me and said I deserved to lose it, messing with a prostitute. Shortly after that he disappeared.
"When I went over to see Tracy, since she would not return my calls, the landlady told me she wasn't in. I wrote Tracy a letter, the one you have in your hand. I kept checking back, but she had moved out and left New York. I could not find Richard Barrett either. So far I have been able to conceal that the money is missing, but we will have an audit soon and the missing money will be discovered. I have been at wits end trying to find them and get that money back in the account from which it was taken."
"You did not go to the police?" Drake asked.
"Heavens no! How could I? My marriage would be over and I would go to jail. Probably still will if I can't get that money back. Does Tracy know where the money is?"
"I don't thinks so. Barrett did not give his girls much of the money. So as far as you know, Tracy had nothing to do with removing the money from the account."
"I don't think so, but I know they were running this same fraud on others. I have a friend, Jimmy Essex. The same thing happened to him, only Richard set him up with a different prostitute."
"You could be called to testify for the defense," Paul warned him.
"I can't testify about all this. Don't you understand? I have to get that money back! I don't want to go to jail for something I didn't do. The only thing I am guilty of is stupidity."
"No, you are guilty of something else," Paul told him.
"Like what?" Redman asked.
"Adultery," Drake said. He got up and headed for the door. Looking back, Paul asked. "Where can I find this Jimmy Essex?"
"I don't know, he disappeared as well. This all doesn't have to come up. I cooperated, Drake."
"You will never be able to keep this quiet, Mister Redman. Mister Mason will do whatever he has to to protect his client. Besides, as soon as that money is discovered missing, you are going to have to answer for it."
"But I helped you! Can't you talk to Mason. Get him to find out where the money is?"
"I'll talk to him, but I can't guaranty that he can help you. I am betting Richard Barrett either moved the money overseas or spent it." Paul went out the door. He had to call Perry. He needed to get a court order to get a look at Richard Barrett's bank accounts.
As Paul flagged down a taxi cab, he thought about Tracy. He still could not believe what she had been involved in. Even if Perry got her off the murder charge, she would have to come back to New York and face other charges. Regardless of whether she knew about what Barrett had done, she was still an accessory to stealing money out of a bank account, considering that the two of them were working together to defraud unsuspecting men out of their money."
When Paul got back to his room, he poured himself a drink and laid down on the bed. He hurt all over. He hurt for what could have been and for what would undoubtedly be. Could he forgive Tracy? He didn't see how he could build any kind of a future with someone that would lie to him.
He got off the bed. He had already been through all of this in his mind. He had to stop feeling sorry for himself and do his job. This wasn't doing him a bit of good.
Paul reached for the phone and dialed Perry Mason's phone number. He let it ring and waited for his friend to answer.
"Hello, Paul. What do you have for me?" Perry said.
"How did you know it was me?" Drake said.
"I knew you would call to update me. Besides, there is a little thing called caller id. I called you at this number, remember?"
Drake smiled. "I remember. And you're right, I called to update you. Perry you were on the money. Tracy is a prostitute, and that is not the worst." Drake relayed his conversation with Sadie, the landlord and that of Ben Redman's letter and confession."
"I am sorry, Paul," Mason said softly. "I suspected this, but had to have it confirmed. I need to know what I am up against."
"I know, Perry. He did give another name of a guy that Barrett swindled. The guy's name is Jimmy Essex. He doesn't know where he is though."
"Paul, he is here in Colorado. Della and I are looking for him now. Sounds like we have ourselves another suspect. We need to get a look at Barrett's bank records. Make sure you check to see if he had an overseas account as well. And find out about Essex. How much did Barrett swindle out of him" Find out, Paul, and we will have another one with motive and opportunity to kill Barrett.
"Already in the works, pal. I'll take care of it. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Make it late, Paul. I'll be in court tomorrow," Mason told him. "And Paul, I am truly sorry."
"I am too. I just don't know what I am going to do about it."
"Take your time and don't make any quick decisions. Remember, we were more fortunate than Tracy."
"Yeah. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Paul hung up the phone. What was he going to do? He loved Tracy. How could he ever walk away, but how could he live with what she did?