“Of course not. I thought you’d want some money before you went ahead with the case, so I stopped at the bank and got two thousand dollars.”
Mason started to say something, then smiled, held the door open for her and said, “Well, you’d better put it back in the bank, Miss Swaine. I’ll fix a fee later on when I feel more generous. Right now I can only think of you as a young woman who spoiled a mystery. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mason,” she said. She put the money back in her purse, picked up the canary cage and walked rapidly from the office. In the corridor she paused to inquire, “Do you know anything about the pet store that’s in this block?”
“The man who runs it,” Mason said, “was once a client of mine. He’s an old German, quite a character. Karl Helmold’s the name. Why did you ask?”
“I thought I’d leave Dickey there for a while.”
“That’s the canary?”
“Yes. Then, when Rossy gets settled she can send for him. But I’d want to be certain that Walter wouldn’t know where I’d left him.”
“I’m quite sure,” Mason said, “you can trust the discretion of Karl Helmold. Tell him I sent you.”
She nodded, and her clacking heels echoed rapid steps as she walked toward the elevator.
Mason closed the door and turned to Della Street.