“That is to hit her where she least expects to be hit. There’s only one way to fight, and that’s to win. Never attack where the other man is expecting it, when the other man is expecting it. That’s where he’s prepared his strongest defense.”
“Well,” Sabin demanded, “where can we attack her where she hasn’t her defenses organized?”
“That,” Mason said, “remains to be seen.”
“Why,” Sabin asked, “should my father have gone to all these elaborate preparations to insure secrecy about that divorce? I can understand, of course, that my father didn’t like publicity. He wanted to avoid all publicity as much as possible. Some things are inevitable. When a man gets divorced, it’s necessary for the world to know he’s divorced.”
“I think,” Mason said, “that your father probably had some reasons for wanting to keep his picture out of the newspaper at that particular time, although it’s rather hard to tell.”
Sabin thought for a moment. “You mean that he was already courting this other girl, and didn’t want her to know who he was?”
Richard Waid said, “If you’ll pardon me, I think I can clear that situation up. I happen to know that Fremont C. Sabin was rather... er... gun-shy about women, after his experience with the present Mrs. Sabin... Well, I feel quite certain that if he had wanted to marry again, he would have taken every possible precaution to see that he wasn’t getting a gold-digger.”
Charles Sabin frowned. “The thing,” he said, “gets more and more complicated. Of course, my father had a horror of publicity. I gather that the plans for this divorce were made before he met this young woman in San Molinas, but probably he was just trying to avoid reporters. What’s all this about the parrot, Mr. Mason?”
“You mean Casanova?”
“Yes.”