“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You... you... you...”
She launched herself at him, clawing at the envelope in the inside pocket of his coat. Mason pushed her easily aside and said, “That isn’t going to get you anywhere, Mrs. Sabin.”
A red light flashed as an elevator cage slid to a stop. Mason entered. “Coming, ma’am?” the elevator man asked Mrs. Sabin.
“No,” she said, and turned on her heel to stride belligerently back toward the office of Randolph Bolding.
Mason rode down in the elevator and drove at once to a branch post office. He carefully sealed the envelope containing the forged checks and the various letters and addressed the envelope to Sheriff Barnes at San Molinas. He then placed postage stamps on the letter and dropped it in the mailchute.
Chapter eleven
Perry Mason, Della Street and Paul Drake rode three abreast in the front seat of Mason’s car. The parrot was in the rear of the car, the cage partially covered with a lap robe.
Drake, looking at his wrist watch, said, “You’re going to get there plenty early, Perry.”
Mason said, “I want to talk with the sheriff and with Helen Monteith.”
As Mason guided the car clear of the city traffic and hit the open highway, Drake said, “Well, it looks as though you had the right hunch on this divorce business, Perry. There’s a pretty good chance Helen Watkins never was divorced from Rufus Watkins. We’ve found a witness who says Helen Watkins told her that she hadn’t been divorced. That was two weeks before she started working for Fremont C. Sabin.”