“That’s understood.”
Mason pulled out his checkbook, wrote a check for fifteen hundred dollars, scribbled an assignment of Bolding’s bill on the back of the check, and passed it across to Bolding. “Your endorsement on the back of the check,” he said, “will at once constitute a receipt for the amount of the money and an assignment of your claim against the estate.”
“Thank you,” Bolding said. He pocketed the check, took an envelope from the desk drawer, placed the checks and letters in it, and handed the envelope across to the lawyer. Then he arose, went to the door of the private office and held it open.
Mason heard the rapid, nervous click... click... click of the high heels on a woman’s shoes. He stepped back so that he was concealed behind the jamb of the door as he heard Helen Watkins Sabin say, “I bet you didn’t think I was going to come back with the cash, did you, Mr. Bolding? Well, here it is, one thousand dollars, ten one-hundred-dollar bills. Now, if you’ll give me a receipt, I’ll take the documents and...”
Bolding said, “You’ll pardon me, Mrs. Sabin, but would you mind going around to the other office. I have a client here.”
“Oh, well,” she said, “your client can go right on out. He doesn’t need to mind me. You were standing there in the door to usher him out, so you can just usher me in.”
She swept past Bolding into the office, and then suddenly whirled to face Perry Mason.
“You!” she said.
Mason bowed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.