He groped for the receiver, said, “Hello,” in a drowsy voice. “What is it?”
The voice which came over the wire was hysterical, the words intermingled with sobs. “This is Mrs. Gentrie. I could see that you knew all the time. I can’t last it out. Do what you can for Junior. I got into this for him. I suppose murder is never justified, but then a mother — that Opal Sunley was — Mr. Mason, I can’t — please don’t let Junior hold it too much against me. You’ve got my fingerprints. The message in the tin said so. Lieutenant Tragg switched tins. I had a pencil in my pocket and surreptitiously made a copy of the message. You were too clever for me. I knew there was no use fooling you. I know you’ll try to stop me, but you can’t do it. You’re clever, Mr. Mason — too clever. Good-by. I...”
Mason interrupted her, his voice thick with the accents of a man who has been drinking heavily. “Thash a’right, sister. Go right ahead. Have you li’l fun. Betcha you don’t know what I’ve been doin’. I’ve been shelebratin’ a weddin’ party. Rodney Wenshton got married. Li’l Doris Wickford. Nishe girl, too. Lotsh champagne! Ran onto ’em coupla blocks down street. Never dranksh sho much champagne ’n all my life. Now, don’t try talk no bus’ness with me now. Tomorrow — tomorrow — I tol’ you I’d try gettin’ Junior out tomorrow — hic, yesh, tomorrow — tomorrow I be a’right. Goo’-by!”
Mason dropped the receiver into place, flung off the covers, stripped off his pajamas, wrapped a robe around him, pushed his feet into slippers, and raced down the corridor to where a pay telephone was ensconced. Mason dropped a coin, dialed Operator, and said, “Get me police headquarters just as quickly as you can. This is an emergency. Rush that call.”
Almost at once, Mason heard a voice saying, “Yes, this is headquarters.”
“Perry Mason. Is Lieutenant Tragg where I can get in touch with him?”
“No, Lieutenant Tragg’s off duty. He... What’s that?... Just a minute... Oh, hello. They say he just came in from San Francisco. Want to talk with him?”
“Get him at once,” Mason said. “It’s important as the devil.”
“Hold the line.”
A few seconds elapsed, then Mason heard Tragg’s crisply hostile voice saying, “Yes, Mason, this is Tragg.”