Inez Colton said, “So you see Harold’s position. He can’t help your client any, Mr. Mason, and his testimony would clinch the case against Alden Leeds.”
“You think Alden Leeds did it?” Mason asked, staring steadily at Harold.
“I don’t know,” the young man said. “I do know that Uncle Alden was raised in a hard school. If Hogarty’s claim was justified, I hope Uncle Alden would have done something about it. I like to think so, anyway. But if it wasn’t justified, and Hogarty was trying to hold him up, I... Well, I don’t know just where Uncle Alden would draw the line. I know one thing, I’d hate to have him on my trail. Any time you cross Uncle Alden, you have a fight on your hands... I think Uncle Alden found him... No, I don’t know what happened.”
Abruptly, Mason got to his feet “Well,” he said, “that’s that.”
“How about this subpoena?” Inez Colton asked.
“Forget it,” Mason said. “As far as we’re concerned, it hasn’t been served. Tear it up.”
Harold Leeds shot forth an impulsive hand. “That’s mighty white of you, Mr. Mason,” he said, “and you can rest assured that I’ll keep all of this under my hat.”
“Sorry we broke in on you this way,” Mason said to Inez Colton. “Come on, folks. Let’s go.”
Della Street closed her notebook, slipped it back into her purse. Drake glanced sidelong at Mason, then got to his feet without a word. Mason led the way out into the corridor. Inez Colton bid them goodnight and closed the door.
As the three marched wordlessly down the corridor, the fat, blonde woman, who had stood in the doorway when Mason brought Harold Leeds back into the room, opened the door and stood staring silent, expressionless, motionless. She was still standing there when the trio entered the automatic elevator.