Holcomb’s eyes showed both interest and suspicion. “What is this, a run-around?”
“Nope, the low-down. Better watch your step, Sergeant, or you’ll be pounding pavements.”
“I have a warrant,” Holcomb said.
“So you have.”
“Get your hat.”
Mason, holding his hands up in front of him as though holding an imaginary newspaper, pretended to read. “So rapidly did The Clarion work in breaking the case that the police were still baffled. Even after the Extra Edition hit the street, one of the more amusing sidelights was the spectacle of Sergeant Holcomb of the Homicide Squad, with the dogged persistence of an unimaginative police officer, serving a warrant on a well-known attorney just as Clarion newsboys were selling the extras which gave the true facts of the case. Sergeant Holcomb, however, dutifully plodding along in the line of duty, escorted the grinning Perry Mason into Headquarters, pushing aside as he did so newsboys who were shouting the name of the real murderer.”
Mason went through the pantomime of folding a newspaper and putting it down on the desk.
Sergeant Holcomb said, “You can’t stall along that way.”
“I’m not trying to stall, Sergeant. I’m trying to give you a break.”
“Yes, you always did like me.”