“What are you leading up to?”
“Where a man writes a letter and says, ‘I can’t deliver you the stuff you ordered by mail, but you’ll get it by special messenger,’ it’s the same as using the mails in the business.”
The waitress appeared with two bowls of pearl barley soup.
“What did you mean by that last crack?” Serle asked.
“Nothing,” Mason said, munching a cracker.
“Listen, Mason,” Serle said. “Get me straight on this. That lottery business is the bunk. I was closed up on a tip-off. It was a grudge tip-off. The D.A. doesn’t go for that stuff. He doesn’t use his office to settle private grudges. What’s more, you can’t convict a man on a tip-off. You’ve got to have evidence.”
“That’s right,” Mason agreed.
There was another long silence while Mason finished his soup. Serle watched him uneasily. Mason pushed the plate away and said, “Nice soup.”
Serle said, “Understand this, Mason, I don’t think Leeds killed him, but the D.A. thinks so, and the D.A. has a case so airtight you couldn’t punch a hole in it with a drill.”
“What makes it airtight?” Mason asked.