Della Street opened the door of her secretarial office, holding a telephone in her hand. “She’s on your line, Chief,” she said.
Mason picked up the telephone on his desk. “Hello. Miss Gailord?”
A rich, well-modulated voice said, “Good morning, Mr. Mason. Thank you for calling. I believe I have an appointment with you for two o’clock this afternoon.”
“You have,” Mason said. “In the meantime, events are moving rather rapidly. I suppose you’ve seen the newspapers?”
“Yes. What does it mean?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “But I have a hot tip I’m going out to investigate now. The only information I have at present is that contained in the newspaper account… I take it you’re familiar with what Mrs. Tump has been doing in your behalf?”
“Yes.”
“And that meets with your approval?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You want me to represent you?”