“Hell, no, it was ten o‘clock. Christ, he told me to call at ten, and I called at ten. When a guy’s going to put up the cash to spring you on a felony rap, you don’t let half an hour slip through your fingers.”
Mason said coldly, “Serle, you’re lying. You called him around ten-thirty. You didn’t remember the exact time. The first time you told your story, you admitted it. But after you’d talked with Homicide and seen they wanted to fix the call before Leeds had left, you decided to oblige them. You figured you could square your rap if you were obliging.”
Serle said doggedly, “It was ten o’clock when I called... They say Leeds is a multimillionaire.”
“So I hear,” Mason said.
“Maybe this is going to be kind of important to him,” Serle suggested. “He might want to do something for me.”
Mason met his eyes in cold, steady appraisal.
The waitress approached, said hurriedly to Mason, “You’re Perry Mason?”
He nodded.
“There’s a call for you from your office. They said it’s very important, to get you at once.”
Mason gestured toward Serle with a sweep of his hand.