Her face flushed. “You think I’m taking advantage of you? Here, take your ten dollars, I don’t want it.”
“No, no. It isn’t that,” Mason said hastily. “I just can’t understand how my deductions could be so completely wrong. Just what does your sister look like. Miss Whiting?”
“I’ll get you her picture,” Marian Whiting offered. “You can see for yourself.”
Mason glanced at Paul Drake. “Not a posed photograph, please. Something that will show her character and...”
“Certainly. Just a minute.”
She left them and went into the bedroom. “What does the letter say, Paul?” Mason asked in an undertone.
“All about the Islands, people she met, dances she’s attended, a luau, native feast, and how they ate with their fingers, and...”
“Never mind all that,” Mason said. “How about the intimate personal details?”
“She tells Marian she forgot to send her fall suit to the cleaners, to please have it cleaned and pressed, and there’s a spot on one sleeve which she’s to call to the attention of the cleaner. That she’d like to have her fur coat out of storage when she gets back, and... Wait a minute, Perry, she mentions her husband...”
Marian Whiting returned with a photograph album. She placed it on the table. Mason and the detective stood at her side as she turned the leaves. “Here’s Evelyn... There’s an old picture of Evelyn and Carl Moar. There’s another one of Evelyn. Here we are in bathing suits... Here we are...” Abruptly she laughed and turned the page. “I guess you hadn’t better see that one. Here we were on our vacation in shorts. Here’s Evelyn and a boyfriend. Here’s... Oh, wait a minute. I know... I have a dandy picture taken when Evelyn sailed.”