“There isn’t any,” she said. “You turn on each light as you want it by pulling on the drop-cord which hangs from the light. That keeps the men from wasting electricity... Here, I have a flashlight if you want to find the drop-cord.”
She opened her brown leather handbag and took out a nickel-plated flashlight some six inches long by half an inch in diameter.
“That’s a cute little gadget,” Mason said. “Carry it all the time?”
“Yes,” she said. “It... it comes in handy.”
Mason switched on the flashlight, and, by its aid, located the drop-cord on the first light. He was moving over toward it when the beam from the flashlight, sliding over a pile of packing cases in a corner, caught a patch of color. Mason paused to center the beam on the discolored wood.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“What?”
“This pile of big packing cases,” Mason said. “The top one has a... Never mind, I’ll take a look myself.”
Holding the flashlight in his left hand, Mason walked over to the corner and examined the reddish-brown stain which had seeped out to stain the boards. The lawyer sniffed the air, then stood a small box on the end and climbed up on it.
The box swayed under the lawyer’s weight. Before he could step down, it buckled under him with a crashing sound. Mason flung out his hand to catch his balance, and caught the edge of the large packing case on top of the pile. A moment later, the entire pile of cases tottered precariously.