“What the devil are you getting at?” Mason asked.
Drake shook his head and said, “Get in, Perry. It won’t be long.”
“Where is it?”
“Over in Berkeley.”
“Well then, let’s get started,” Mason snapped.
The car dashed across Market Street and turned to the left, to speed down the boulevard leading to the bridge which crossed the bay.
“Look here,” Mason said, “there are only three of us. If we’re going to have trouble with Eves—”
“We’re not going to have any trouble with Eves,” Drake said. “He didn’t have anything to do with Della’s disappearance.”
“How do you know?” Mason asked.
“I’ll tell you more about it in a few minutes,” Drake said. “In the meantime, I think I know what was the trouble with Eves.”