“Suppose he doesn’t wait that long but goes right on in?”
“It’s all right,” Mason said, “just so you give me those three short, sharp rings on the doorbell the minute you see he’s heading toward the house. That’ll give me time to get out.”
“Not much time,” she said, “particularly if you’re on the second floor.”
“It’s all right,” he told her. “It’ll take a man a little while to get in, and it doesn’t make any difference if I don’t get out of the back door until he unlatches the front door — just so I get out. After all, there’s not very much chance it will happen. We’re just playing safe. That’s all. Be absolutely certain the minute anyone shows up anywhere on the street, to give me a signal on the bell. I’ll probably have to use the flashlight, and a person who happens to see the beam of light reflected against the window glass might call the police.”
“And that’s all I have to do?” she asked.
“That’s enough.”
“You’re not trying to make things easy for me just to keep me out of it?”
“No.”
“You take care of yourself?”
“I’ll try to.”