Richard Waid, the secretary, opened the door in response to Mason’s ring. His face showed his relief at seeing the lawyer. “C.W. has been trying to get you on the phone,” he said. “I’ve been calling every few minutes.”
“Something wrong?” Mason inquired.
“Mrs. Sabin is home — the widow.”
“Has that resulted in complications?” the lawyer asked.
“I’ll say it has. Listen, you can hear them in there now.”
Richard Waid stood slightly to one side, and the sound of a woman’s excited voice came pouring through the doorway. The words were undistinguishable, but there could be no mistaking the harsh, rasping sound of the voice itself.
“Well,” Mason said, “perhaps I’d better join in the fight.”
“I wish you would,” Waid said, and then, after a moment, “It may be that you can tone her down a bit.”
“Does she have a lawyer?” Mason asked.
“Not yet. She’s threatening to hire all the lawyers in the city.”