Only Della Street and Paul Drake had the number of that telephone which was by Mason’s bedside, a telephone which rang only in cases of grave emergency.
Paul Drake was on the line. “Hello, Perry,” he said. “Sorry to bust in on your slumbers, but snap awake, because this is important.”
“All right,” Mason said, “I can take it. What is it?”
“Remember,” Drake said, “the evening paper mentioned that you were working on the case and that you had employed the Drake Detective Agency to make an investigation?”
“Yes,” Mason said, switching on a light.
“Well, she read the paper and called me up.”
“Who did?”
“I’m coming to that in a minute. I want to make certain you’re awake before I give you this.”
Mason said impatiently, “I’m awake all right. I’ve got the light on. What is it?”
“Mrs. Sarah Perlin, Hocksley’s housekeeper, telephoned the office and said that if she could talk with Mr. Mason personally, she’d make a complete confession. She wanted to know where she could reach you. What do I do?”