“The officers won’t like that,” she said.
Before Mason could say anything, there was the sound of steps on the porch of the big house. The nurse beat Itsumo to the front door. She flung it open and said, “They’re in the dining room.”
Sergeant Holcomb and two plain-clothes detectives marched through the door and into the dining room. “What’s the idea?” Sergeant Holcomb demanded of Perry Mason.
“Court order,” Mason said, showing him a document.
“I knew I should have kept you in jail,” Sergeant Holcomb said to Virginia Trent. “That’s what I get for trying to give you a break.”
“Don’t blame me,” she said indignantly. “I was sleeping when Mr. Mason woke me up.”
“And, if you’d held her in jail,” Mason said, “I’d have had a writ of habeas corpus, so it’s just as broad as it is thick.”
Sergeant Holcomb sat down and motioned the two detectives to chairs. “I suppose,” he said to Perry Mason, “you’re going to advise her not to answer questions, and stand on her constitutional rights?”
“On the contrary,” Mason said, “we’re going to do everything we can to assist you.”
“Yes, I have a picture of that,” Sergeant Holcomb said sarcastically. “You may not know it, but this young woman has admitted to me that she knew the gun was in the drawer, that she’s taken it with her into the country on several occasions, and has Practiced with it until she’s a very fair shot.”