“And when was that?” Mason asked.
“Not very long ago.”
Mason looked at the powder which had been dusted over various objects, and said to Paul Drake and Della Street, “Don’t touch anything. Paul, stick your hands in your pockets and keep them there. They’ve been frisking the place for fingerprints. It looks like a frame-up.”
Scudder’s face flushed. “You’re not in Los Angeles now,” he said. “You can’t pull that stuff and get away with it.”
Mason shrugged his shoulders.
“A man by the name of Roger P. Cartman was here,” Scudder said. “You have him concealed somewhere. I want him.”
Mason said, “You’re crazy.”
“You were here earlier this evening. You and a man named Eves decided to hide him so he wouldn’t have to testify.”
“Have you,” Mason inquired solicitously, “looked under the bed?”
“Take his fingerprints,” Scudder ordered.