“Uh huh.”
“All right,” Mason said. “Wait here.”
He walked rapidly to the corner, turned to the right, and walked down the incline which led down to the basement garage.
The garage attendant was seated in a sedan by the door, engrossed in a radio program. When he saw Mason, he hurriedly shut off the radio, and made a great show of being busy parking the car.
Mason waited until he had finished, then significantly took his wallet from his pocket.
“My name,” he said, “is Perry.”
The garage man nodded.
“I have just moved into 1042,” Mason said. “My niece has kindly placed her car at my disposal for the duration of my stay. For some reason, her car won’t start. She drove it up to the entrance all right and shut off the motor. Now, it won’t start. Do you suppose you can get it going and bring it down for her?”
“Sure,” the garage man said. “She’s flooded the carburetor, that’s all. Janes do that all the time. I’ll go out and bring it in.”
Mason had to move two cars before he could drive Peltham’s car out to the street.