“The side door?” Mason asked.
“That’s right. The side door is right opposite the garage over at the other house — that one on the north. Hocksley rents that garage, keeps his car there. His stenographer uses it sometimes.”
“Hear anything else?” Mason asked.
“Voices. I think one of them was a woman. I heard a car start and drive out. It was gone about an hour, came back to that garage. Gow Loong was back by that time.”
“And Mr. Blaine?” Mason asked as he heard steps on the stairs.
Blaine said, “I got in about two o’clock.”
The steps on the stairs were louder. Gow Loong said, “You come topside upstairs, please. Solly no come sooner. No savvy policee man. Massah in here, please.”
Lieutenant Tragg, standing in the doorway, surveyed the group for a minute before his eyes segregated Perry Mason from the others. As he recognized the lawyer, a slight flush deepened his color, but there was no other indication of surprise or annoyance. “Well, well,” he said, “fancy seeing you here! May I ask what’s the occasion of the visit?”
Mason said, “My client, Mr. Karr, is nervous. You understand how it is when a man of law-abiding habits is suddenly brought into contact with lawlessness. He naturally becomes apprehensive. Mr. Karr has been intending to make a will for some time, and the unfortunate occurrence downstairs tended to emphasize the uncertainties of life. He sent for me to... to come on a legal matter.”
“So you’re drawing a will?” Tragg asked skeptically.