"And you talked with him?"

"At The Barn?"

"Yes."

"Of course I talked with him. That was part of my job, to keep the customers feeling good."

"And Mrs. Ellis resented that?"

"Frankly, I don't know. I heard she was jealous and I wanted to see her."

"Why?"

"I wanted to tell her there was absolutely no ground for any jealousy whatever."

"So you went aboard the yacht?"

"Yes."

"And you had this gun with you?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Definitely not. That was before the gun was put in my bag."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I ... well, I'll say this. That was before I discovered the gun in my bag."

"That's better. You don't know when it was put there?"

"Not definitely, no."

"And you left The Big Barn that night?"

"Later on, yes."

"And you didn't see Mrs. Ellis on the yacht?"

"No."

"Did you see Mr. Ellis that night?"

"I saw him later, shortly before the trouble with George Anc.l.i.tas."

"Did you tell him you were looking for his wife?"

"He told me his wife had been looking for me, and I told him that there was absolutely no reason for her to be jealous, at least as far as I was concerned."

"And what did Helman tell you?"

"He said his wife got these unreasoning spells of jealousy, and when she did, that you couldn't reason with her or anything. He said that he had been planning on going on a cruise with her but that she'd taken the skiff and gone ash.o.r.e and left him marooned on the boat."

"And when was that?"

"That was Tuesday night."

"Did you also talk with him last night?"

"Now, just a minute," Mason said. "I think this questioning has gone far enough, Lieutenant."

"Okay," Lt. Tragg said rather cheerfully. "I just want to ask Miss Robb one question. Did you at any time ever enter the cabin of Ellis' yacht, the Cap's Eyes?"

"At any time?"

"At any time."

"No."

"You knew the yacht?"

"Yes."

"You'd been aboard it?"

"Well . . . yes, I went aboard once with Helman, when he was showing me around."

"Did you go in the cabin then?"

"I . . . I may have."

"When was that?"

"Oh, some time ago."

"How long ago?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Did you kill Nadine Ellis while you were on that yacht?"

"Did I kill Nadine Ellis? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about murder," Tragg said. "Did you see her Wednesday and kill her?"

"Good heavens no! I didn't-- Why? Is she-- You mean she's been--?"

Mason said, "Now, I'm going to give you some instructions, Ellen. Don't answer any more questions. You have given Lieutenant Tragg a very fair, straight and direct statement. There is no reason for Lieutenant Tragg to browbeat you, bully you, cross-examine you or try to give you a third-degree. If, however, Lieutenant Tragg wants you to accompany him, do so. But don't make any statement under any circ.u.mstances. Don't say one more word about this case or about your relations with George Anc.l.i.tas, about the suit that I'm going to file or about anything, unless I am present and instruct you to make a statement."

"All right, Mason," Tragg said. "You've spoken your piece. You can leave now. There was a chance we might have been able to get an explanation which would have prevented a lot of notoriety for Miss Robb. But in view of your instructions to her, she's going to have to come to Headquarters."

"That's fine," Mason said. "She'll go to Headquarters-How long are you going to hold her there?"

"Probably until we can have some test bullets fired from this gun," Tragg said, "and have the test bullets compared by the ballistics department with the fatal bullets which killed Mrs. Ellis."

"Go right ahead," Mason said. "Accompany him, Miss Robb. Make no statement to newspaper reporters. Don't talk to anyone. Simply clam up and keep quiet. You've made your statement. Now then, when Lieutenant Tragg tells you that you can leave, get in touch with me at once."

"You mean if," Tragg said, "not when."

Mason grinned. "Once more, Lieutenant, you have failed to understand me. I mean when. I said when and I meant when."

CHAPTER NINE.

Mason, pacing the floor of his office, made comments from time to time to an attentive Della Street.

Della, knowing that the lawyer was simply thinking out loud, used her knowledge of his character to facilitate the thought processes. At times she would nod her head, at times listen with rapt attention, and at times interpose some shrewd question.

Mason, pacing back and forth, said, "That probably explains why they didn't make any commotion about the gun."

"Who?" Della Street asked.

"George Anc.l.i.tas," Mason said. "He was framing a crime on Ellen Robb, all right, but it wasn't anything simple like the crime of stealing a gun."

"Then he must have known a murder had been committed?"

"Yes."

"How would he have known that?"

"There's only one way," Mason said. "He must have killed her. He must have killed her with that gun and then planted that gun in Ellen Robb's suitcase."

"Then Mrs. Ellis was killed before the gun ever came into Ellen's possession?"

"That has to be it," Mason said, and resumed pacing the floor.

After a moment Della Street ventured an inquiry. "Where does that leave us?" she asked.

Mason stopped abruptly in his pacing, snapped his fingers and said, "d.a.m.n!"

Della Street raised her eyebrows.

"I hadn't thought of it from that angle," Mason said. "I've been too busy trying to unscramble what must have happened in connection with the murder so I could protect my client's interests."

"You're thinking of it from that angle now?" Della Street asked.

"I'm thinking of it from that angle now," Mason said, "and I don't like what I'm thinking."

"Why?"

"As long as the gun was simply an article of stolen property, we had every right in the world to restore it to its rightful owner and we could do that by returning it to his place of business, but if that gun becomes a valuable piece of evidence . . . "

Mason broke off and resumed pacing the floor, his eyes level-lidded with concentration.

"Isn't it our duty to report any evidence to the police?" Della Street asked.

Mason nodded, then said tersely, "It's also our duty to protect our client."

"But if the evidence came into her possession after the crime had been committed . . . "

"Suppose they don't believe that, Della?"

"Then, of course . . . " It was Della Street's turn to break off in the middle of a sentence and start thinking.

"Exactly," Mason said. "It puts us in the devil of a predicament."

"Can I take the sole responsibility?" Della Street asked. "After all, I was the one who took the gun back."

"You were acting under my orders," Mason said. "Don't be silly. I was taking the responsibility, and if there's any responsibility I take it all--all, you understand?"

"The facts," she said, "speak for themselves. I took the gun back."

Mason said, "I take the responsibility. Now, just remember that. Don't try to get yourself involved in this thing out of a sense of loyalty. Hang it! The trouble is I don't know . . . suppose she isn't telling the truth?"

"Who?"

"Our client," Mason said.

"She could be lying?" Della asked.

"Of course she could be lying," Mason said. "And she's just the type who would lie. She's a young woman who has sharpened her wits against the seamy side of life. She knows her way around and she's doubtless learned that everyone must look out for himself. That's the code of the society in which she's been living."

Della Street said, "Then she would have stolen the gun from The Big Barn, gone aboard the yacht, only instead of not finding anybody aboard, she had a session with Nadine Ellis and killed her. Then she came here and handed you the gun, telling you her story about having found it in her baggage."

"That's right," Mason said.

"And at that very time Mrs. Ellis must have been lying dead on the yacht."

"In that case," Mason asked, "how did the yacht get out there beyond Catalina Island?"

Della Street gave his question thoughtful consideration. "The yacht was safely moored in the harbor after you switched guns?"