“Junior!”
“All right, I’m sorry, but don’t you mention any names. I mean that. This is stuff that gets in the papers, and I don’t see that it makes a particle of difference who I was with.”
Rebecca said, “Well, what are we going to do about that code message on the can? Here we are, standing talking and letting the murderer slip through the fingers of the police.”
Mason said, “Let’s be certain about that can before we do anything. You feel quite positive you didn’t put it up on that shelf with the preserves, Mrs. Gentrie?”
“I know I didn’t, and I don’t think Hester did either. She’s stupid at times, but certainly not that stupid. Furthermore, I don’t think that can had been there for more than a day or two at the most. I don’t see how it could have... well...”
Mason said, “Well, let’s notify Lieutenant Tragg of exactly what happened, and he can draw his own conclusions. After all, that’s his business.”
Chapter 5
Seated in his private office, tilted back in the big swivel chair, Mason propped his heels on the corner of his desk, held his interlocked fingers behind his head, and regarded Della Street with a lazy smile.
“Well,” he said, “this is one case where I have a free hand. Carr says I’m to do everything I can to uncover the truth. It makes no difference who gets hurt.”
“Even if it’s Karr himself?” she asked, studying him searchingly.