“Very well, thank you. What have you found out?”
“Not a great deal,” Mason admitted, “but I’m making progress.”
“What about that fifty-thousand-dollar stock sale, Mr. Mason?”
Mason said, “I’m going to set that aside.”
“Is the stock worth anything?”
Mason indicated a chair, gave Mrs. Tump a cigarette, took one himself, lit up, and said, “That stock which was delivered to Loftus & Cale represented the private holdings of the president of the company. That should answer your question. I’m going to set the transaction aside on the ground that Tidings was dead before the check was delivered for the stock.”
She studied him with her glittering, hard eyes. “You can do that?”
“Yes.”
“How are you going to prove it?”
“For one thing,” Mason said, “I can prove it by the testimony of the autopsy surgeon — I hope.”