Mason nodded toward the telephone. “You know where your stepdaughter banks,” he said. “She has come to town. It is now after eleven o’clock. Ring up her bank and ask for the person in charge of her account. Say that you want to see that nothing is said about it, but identify yourself and ask them if your daughter has made a withdrawal this morning of fifteen hundred dollars in tens, and twenties.”

  Bancroft hesitated a moment, then took the phone that Della Street extended to him, called the manager of the bank, identified himself, said, “I want some highly confidential information. I want nothing to be said about the fact that I have called and I want nothing to be done about it. But I would like to know if my stepdaughter has cashed a cheque this morning on her account … Yes, I’ll hold the phone.”

  Bancroft held the phone for some two minutes, then said, “Hello … Yes … I see … Thank you very much … No, say nothing about it … No, don’t let anyone know that I have called, and forget the whole thing.”

  Bancroft hung up, turned to Mason and nodded. “She cashed a fifteen-hundred-dollar cheque,” he said, “specifying that the money was to be in ten and twenty-dollar bills. She also asked for ten silver dollars.”

  Mason thought for a moment, then said, “I’m going to give you some advice, Bancroft. You probably won’t want to follow it.”

  “What is it?”

  “This chaplain who helped straighten you out,” Mason asked, “is he still alive?”

  “Yes. He now has a rather large church.”

  “Make a substantial donation to that church,” Mason said. “At the time you make the donation, state publicly that you are indebted to him, explain that you are a self-made man, that your past contains some mistakes made in your early youth. In other words, beat them to the punch, stand up on your own two feet and be proud of your record.”

  Bancroft paled and shook his head. “I simply couldn’t do that, Mr Mason. It would kill my wife. Coming at this time, it would simply kill her. It would put Rosena in an absolutely impossible position.”

  “Then,” Mason said, “prepare to pay and pay and pay.”

  Bancroft nodded. “I had anticipated that.”

  “Unless,” Mason said, “you are willing to let me have a free hand in the matter.”

  “I’m perfectly willing to give you a free hand,” Bancroft said. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Sometimes,” Mason said, “blackmailers are vulnerable. They can be jailed upon another charge – and, of course, if you appeal to the police, you will find they’re most co-operative and–”

  “No, no, no,” Bancroft said. “We cannot appeal to the police. We cannot let them know … This is too much of a juicy scandal item coming right at this time.”

  “All right,” Mason said, “what I’m going to do is going to cost you some money. It’s going to be daring, ingenious, and I hope it will be clever enough to fool the blackmailers.”

  “What do you mean? What do you have in mind?” Bancroft asked.

  Mason said, “Look at this letter carefully. The money is to be put in a large coffee can and the lid put on tight. Ten silver dollars are to be put in the can. Now, what does all this mean?”

  “That’s what I don’t get,” Bancroft said.

  “It means one thing to me,” Mason said. “The blackmailers don’t want to show their hand. They don’t want to disclose their identity. It means that the can is going to be put in the water and left floating, and then the blackmailers can pick it up. The ten silver dollars will be ballast to keep the can right side up.”

  “Yes, that’s a logical assumption,” Bancroft said after thinking for a moment.

  “You are living at the lake. I take it your stepdaughter does a lot of water-skiing and swimming.”

  Bancroft nodded.

  “All right,” Mason said, “we’re going to take a chance. I’m going to have an expert detective shadow your stepdaughter with binoculars. Whenever this can is dropped in the water, I am going to have someone, who will apparently be boating in the lake or fishing, pick up the can, open it, and turn the whole business over to the police.”

  “What!” Bancroft said, jumping to his feet. “Why, that’s exactly the thing that I can’t afford. That’s–”

  “Just a minute,” Mason said. “Look the situation over carefully. There is nothing in the letter indicating to whom it was sent. If the person who finds the can with the money in it can pretend to be an innocent fisherman who has found the money and the note and turned it over to the police, the police will publicize the whole thing, the blackmailers will go into a panic and try to figure out some way of beginning all over again. They will be on the defensive and yet they can’t claim that they have been betrayed by their victim. They will simply feel the cards went against them. The money will be safe in the hands of the police. The blackmailers will be running for cover.”

  “They’ll strike back,” Bancroft said. “They’ll publicize the information about me–”

  “And kill the goose that’s going to lay all their golden eggs?” Mason interposed. “Not a chance.”

  Bancroft thought the matter over. “It’s taking a chance,” he said.

  “You can’t live without taking chances,” Mason told him. “If you want a lawyer who doesn’t take chances, get someone else. This is a calculated risk. It’s a good gamble.”

  Bancroft sighed. “All right. The thing is in your hands.”

  “Now then,” Mason went on, “I’m going to do one more thing, with your permission.”

  “What?”

  “From the wording of the note it would seem there is more than one blackmailer. I’m going to break up the combination if possible.”

  “How?” Bancroft said.

  “It’s a scheme I’m turning over in my mind. I’ll have to give it further thought,” Mason said. “The trouble with a blackmailer is that he always has you on the defensive. He calls the turns. He tells you what to do, how much he wants, where you make the payment, when you make the payment, how you make the payment. You resent it and you sputter. But, in the long run, you give in.”

  Bancroft nodded.

  “There are just four ways to deal with a blackmailer,” Mason said, holding up his fingers and counting off the points as he made them.

  “First, you pay the blackmailer off, thinking that will get him off your neck. That is like chasing a mirage in the desert. A blackmailer never quits.

  “Second, you go to the police. You make a clean breast to the police and you lay a trap for the blackmailer and put him in prison, and the police protect your confidence.”

  Bancroft shook his head decisively.

  “Third,” Mason said, “you get the blackmailer on the defensive, so that he isn’t in a position to call the shots and tell you what to do and when to do it and how to do it. You get him worried. Now, if I’m going to handle this case and I can’t go to the police, I’m going to try the third way.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Bancroft asked.

  “Sure, it’s dangerous,” Mason admitted. “But you don’t get anywhere in a deal of this kind unless you’re willing to take chances.”

  “What’s the fourth way?” Bancroft asked.

  “The fourth way,” Mason said, smiling wryly, “is to kill the blackmailer – and that has been done from time to time – sometimes with very satisfactory results – though I hardly recommend it.”

  Bancroft thought for a moment, then said, “It’s in your hands. You’ll have to try it the third way. But at the start we’ll pay off. That will give us a little time.”

  “That’s all you gain by paying off,” Mason said, “time.”

  “How much money do you want?” Bancroft asked.

  “Right at the start,” Mason said, “I want ten thousand dollars. I’m going to hire the Paul Drake Detective Agency, I’m going to put out a lot of operatives, I’m going to try to find out who these blackmailers are, and when I find out I’m going to keep them so busy with problems of their own that they won’t have any time to be putting you and your daughter on the defensive.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Bancroft said, “if you can do it.”

  “I know,” Mason said, “that’s a pretty big if. But that’s the only way I’ll handle it, unless you let me go to the police and tell them the whole story.”

  Bancroft vehemently shook his head. “I’m too prominent. It would leak out,” he said.

  “Let it leak,” Mason told him. “Proclaim it from the housetops. Go out and stand on your record. Show that rehabilitation is possible.”

  “Not now, not now,” Bancroft said. “The results to my stepdaughter would be disastrous. My wife would never forgive me as long as she lived.”

  Bancroft took out a chequebook and wrote a cheque for ten thousand dollars.

  “I take it,” he said, “this is by way of retainer.”

  “And to cover initial expenses,” Mason told him.

  Mason opened a desk drawer, took out a small camera, screwed an extension barrel on the lens, put the blackmail letter down on the desk, mounted the camera on a tripod, took three exposures, said, “That should be enough.”

  He folded the note and handed it back to Bancroft.

  Bancroft said, “You’ll never know how much of a load you’ve taken off my shoulders, Mason.”

  “It isn’t off yet,” Mason told him. “And before I get done, you’ll probably be cursing me.”

  “Never,” Bancroft said. “I know too much about you, about your reputation for success. Your methods are daring and unconventional, but they pay off.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Mason said, “but that’s all I can promise. Now, you’re going to put this note right back where your stepdaughter can find it when she returns with the money.”

  “That’s right,” Bancroft said.

  “And then what?”

  “Then I’m going to leave things entirely up to you.”

  “All right,” Mason said. “We’ll try making an end run, and then see if we can’t reverse the field.”

  Chapter Two

  Paul Drake studied the copy of the blackmail note which Della Street had made on her typewriter.

  “What do you make of it?” Mason asked.

  “To whom was it sent?”

  “To Rosena Andrews, who is the stepdaughter of Harlow Bissinger Bancroft.”

  Drake whistled.

  “Now then,” Mason said, “take another look at it. What do you make of it?”

  “It’s the first bite,” Drake said. “If they fall for this, there will be another and another and another.”

  Mason said, “I know. But look at the note again, Paul. Notice the business about the tightly sealed coffee can, and it has to be a red coffee can, capable of holding the money and ten silver dollars.”

  “So?” Drake asked.

  “So,” Mason said, “it means that the delivery is to be made by tossing the can in the water somewhere. And that, after all, is about the best way a blackmailer could work.

  “The Bancrofts are at present living at their summer home out on Lake Merticito. Rosena Andrews, the stepdaughter, is an avid water-skier.

  “My best guess is that the telephoned instructions will be for her to start out water-skiing with the can under her arm, to drop it at a certain spot in the lake, after making certain no other boats are around.”

  “Then what?” Drake asked.

  “Then the blackmailers’ boat will swoop out after Rosena is out of sight. They will pick up the coffee can, take out the money and the note, dump the can back in the water, with the lid off so it will sink, and the blackmailers will be merrily on their way.”

  “And so?” Drake asked.

  “So,” Mason said, “you’re going to have to work fast. I want you to round up some female operatives who will look good in bathing suits. If possible, get a starlet who would like to have some publicity in the newspapers. Dress the girls in the briefest bathing suits the law allows, and rent yourself the speediest boat you can find. Get one with twin motors that are souped up so the boat will be capable of having a burst of speed. Get a pair of powerful binoculars and get started.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Go out there and have the girls just act crazy,” Mason said. “Have them jumping in the water, flopping around, having water fights, taking sun baths. Run the boat at trolling speed, and if there is any fishing in the lake, you can have some fishing lines out. Then once in a while give the boat a burst of speed. All the time you’ll be hanging around the shoreline where you can keep a watch on the Bancroft residence.

  “Sometime this afternoon or tomorrow, you’ll see Rosena Andrews coming out on water-skis and–”

  “How will I recognize her?” Drake asked.

  “If she’s your pigeon,” Mason said, “she’ll have a red coffee can under her arm, and the boat will leave from Bancroft’s summer home on the lake.”

  “I see,” Drake said.

  “She’ll go water-skiing or else just be running the boat,” Mason said. “You’re to make no effort to follow her. You’ll be loafing along the shoreline. You watch until she drops the red coffee can. When she drops that coffee can, your girls go crazy. You start the boat out at high speed – not directly for the coffee can, but to try and catch the waves made by the wake of Rosena’s boat. You splash up in the waves and have a great time, and then apparently by accident, you pick up this coffee can.

  “Now, this is the tricky part of it, Paul. I want you to have a duplicate red coffee can. It will, of course, be empty. I want you to go past the can that Rosena drops so you can scoop it up with a landing net, but at exactly that moment, you drop the decoy coffee can into the water and keep right on going, so if anyone should be watching you, the action will be so fast that it will look as if you’ve simply cut in close to the floating coffee can but haven’t paid any particular attention to it.”

  “That’ll take some doing,” Drake said.

  “That’ll take perfect co-ordination, but it can be done,” Mason told him.

  “You’ll be cutting figure eights and circles and you’ll have the surface of the lake all churned up with big waves. Have the girls water-skiing if they’re expert enough. That can will be up at the top of a wave, then down at the bottom. Anyone watching can’t be sure exactly what happens. I want you to have at least three, and preferably four, scantily clad girls in the boat. One of them can be a starlet who would like publicity. The others can be female operatives whose discretion you can trust.”

  “And what do I do with the real coffee can when I get it?”

  “You telephone me,” Mason said.

  “And where will you be?”

  “Della and I will be sitting on the porch of the country house of Melton Varas Elliott, that’s one of the mansions on the lake. Elliott has had me do work for him and will be glad to accommodate me in a matter of this sort. Once you get that coffee can in your possession, pop it into a bait box of some sort or a canvas duffle bag, so that anyone who is watching won’t see what you have.

  “And after you’ve tossed out the decoy and have the real coffee can in your possession, get back to shore someplace where you can keep your eyes on that decoy coffee can. Some boat will come along to pick it up. I want to get the licence number of the boat, a description of the people who are in it, and I want to know where they go – but I don’t want them to know that they’re being followed. That’s where your girls are going to have to come in. They’ll be cutting all sorts of capers and you apparently will have your attention riveted exclusively on the girls.”

  “Okay,” Drake said, “I’ll do my best.”

  “Get started,” Mason told him. “Grab your car, get the girls and head for the lake. You don’t have much time. The probabilities are the delivery will take place sometime this afternoon.”

  “On my way,” Drake said, leaving the office.

  Mason turned to Della. “Ring up Melton Elliott, Della, and tell him that we want to use his house at Lake Merticito for the afternoon.

  “In the meantime, Della, take this roll of film, or have Gertie take this roll of film over to Frank Stenter Dalton, the handwriting expert. Tell him to develop the pictures, make an enlarged print of the blackmail note, determine what make and model of typewriter was used in typing it, and then tell him to buy me a somewhat battered model of the same typewriter.

  “Then get me three thousand dollars in tens and twenties,” he said, reaching for a chequebook; then added, as something of an afterthought, “you’d better take along a bathing suit, Della. It’s a hot day and you might like a swim.”

  Chapter Three

  The palatial residence of Melton Varas Elliott was across the lake from Harlow Bancroft’s home and some distance to the south.

  Mason and Della Street sat in the cool shade of the porch, the lawyer holding binoculars to his eyes.

  At this hour of the afternoon on a weekday, there was little activity on the lake. Here and there a speedboat, carrying a graceful water-skier, cut smooth circles or long, graceful figure S curves. A gentle northerly breeze stirred small wavelets which interfered with the reflections.

  A butler, who had been instructed over the telephone by Melton Elliott to see that his guests were given every comfort, brought them cooling drinks and hovered solicitously in the background.

  Della, gazing toward the south, said, “I wonder if this is Paul Drake’s outfit.”

  Mason turned the binoculars. Slowly a smile softened his features and he handed the binoculars to Della Street.

  “Take a look,” he invited.

  Della Street held the binoculars to her eyes.

  “Good heavens!” she exclaimed, then passed the binoculars back to Mason. “I think you’ll enjoy the scenery more than I will,” she added dryly.

  Mason watched the graceful lines of the speedboat and those of the three feminine figures within it. They were attired in the briefest of bathing suits.

  “Looks like Paul Drake at the helm,” he said, “well disguised with dark goggles.”

  “And,” Della Street observed, “he’s getting paid for this – a generous salary and all expenses.”

 

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