Mason sat up in bed, bolstering himself against the pillow. “That’s nice,” he said. “How’s Carry?”
For a moment the voice was puzzled. “Carrie?” it asked. “I don’t know to whom you refer.”
“Come, come,” Mason said amiably. “If you’re Cash, you must know Carry.”
“Oh, a pun,” the voice said with the offended dignity of a man who has no sense of humor. “I didn’t understand at first.”
“What,” Mason asked, “do you want?”
“I want to come to your office.”
“And I,” Mason said, “want to stay in bed.”
The man at the other end of the line said, carefully clipping his words, “I have two one-thousand-dollar bills in my wallet, Mr. Mason. If you will come to your office and accept the employment I have to offer, I will give you those two one-thousand-dollar bills as a retainer. I will also arrange for a further payment of ten thousand dollars whenever you are called upon to take any action in my behalf.”
“Murder?” Mason asked.
The voice hesitated for a moment, then said, “No.”