“Did he say client or clients?” Berger asked.
“Clients. I remember that very distinctly,” Mattern said.
“But he didn’t say specifically whether by clients he referred to Miss Gailord and some other client?”
“No, he didn’t. But I do remember that he used the word clients — in the plural.”
“Very well,” Berger said. “Go ahead.”
Mason faced the hostility of Mrs. Tump’s eyes, the silent accusation of Byrl Gailord, and casually took a cigarette case from his pocket. He selected a cigarette and made a search of his pockets for matches. In the course of the search, he managed to extract from his right-hand trousers pocket the folded note which Drake had given him. He snapped a match into flame, and lit the cigarette. As Mattern resumed his statement, Mason made a surreptitious study of the message Drake had slipped him. It had been printed in ink upon a narrow strip of paper. The words were simple and to the point: “Freel is registered in St. Germaine Hotel under name Herkimer Smith, Shreveport, Louisiana.”
Mason shifted the match to his left hand, dropped it into an ash tray; his right hand casually dropped into the side pocket of his coat and deposited Drake’s printed message.
Mattern went on steadily. “Mr. Mason told me that under the law of agency I would have no authority to conclude the deal if Tidings were dead, that his clients wanted the purchase consummated, that it would be better for all concerned to have it appear that the transaction had been completed before Tidings died. He said that if I’d co-operate with him, he’d give me ten thousand dollars when the purchase had been completed.”
“Did you agree to co-operate with him?” Berger asked.
“I objected at first,” Mattern said. “Naturally the information came as a shock to me, and I was astonished to think that a man in Mr. Mason’s position would make such a proposition to me.”