“Say, what happened to the girl who was in the car with you?” the officer asked.
Mason laughed. “She couldn’t stand the pace,” he said. “Frightened her to death.”
As the cage took the officer down, an ascending elevator paused to discharge Della Street. Mason looked at her and laughed. “Well,” he said, “you fooled me.”
Her voice showed nerve strain. “I had to. I wasn’t certain I could put it across, so I didn’t want to tell you about it. Did it work?”
“I’ll say it worked! Incidentally, Gertrude gets a raise in pay.”
“She needs it,” Della Street said. “What are you doing out here in the corridor?”
“Just getting rid of the cops.”
They walked down the corridor together. Mason latch-keyed the office door to find Gertrude down on hands and knees scrubbing at the charred carpet.
“Gertrude,” he said, “arise and receive the benediction of the Order of Traffic Violators. You’re a girl after my own heart. In the bottom right-hand drawer of that desk you’ll find a bottle of whiskey and glasses. While you’re pouring the whiskey, Della will make out the check which raises your salary twenty dollars a month, effective from the first of last month. — Were you frightened?”
She looked at him with emotions struggling into expression. “A twenty dollar raise!” she exclaimed.