“And you’ll let us know if anything new... well, if you... I mean if you hear anything about Helen Watkins Sabin, let me know what she’s doing, will you?”
“She’s probably keeping under cover,” Mason told him, “until she can find out what’s going to be done about that forged decree of divorce.”
“Not that woman,” Charles Sabin said. “You’ll never get her on the defensive. She’s busy somewhere right now, stirring up a whole mess of trouble for us.”
Mason ushered them out through the exit door. “Well,” he said, with a smile, “at least she’s energetic.”
As his visitors turned the corner in the corridor, Mason stood in the door, waiting for Drake. The detective appeared within a matter of seconds. “Coast clear?” he asked.
“The coast is clear,” Mason told him, ushering him into the room. “I’ve just had a session with Charles Sabin and Richard Waid, the secretary. What do you know, Paul?”
“You wanted the long distance telephone calls which had been put in from the cabin,” Drake said. “Well, I’ve had men breaking down numbers into names. Here’s what we find. The last call of which there’s any record came through on the afternoon of Monday the fifth at about four o’clock. Now as I understand it, the secretary says that when Sabin called him at ten o’clock, he reported the telephone at the cabin was out of order. Is that right?”
Mason nodded.
“Well,” Drake said, “if the telephone was out of order, Sabin couldn’t put in any calls and couldn’t send out any calls. Do you get what I mean?”
“No, I don’t,” Mason told him. “Go on and spill it.”