Mason smiled. “I’m afraid you misunderstood, Mrs. Newberry. I don’t handle a general law practice. I specialize in trial work, mostly murder cases. Surely Belle hasn’t done anything which would require my services.”
“Please don’t refuse,” she pleaded. “I feel certain you can help me. It wouldn’t take much of your time and it might make all the difference in the world to Belle.”
Mason noticed a hint of nervous hysteria in her voice and said, “Go ahead. Tell me about it. I’ll at least listen. Perhaps I can make some suggestions. What’s Belle been doing?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s my husband who’s been doing things.”
“Well, what’s Belle’s father—”
“He’s not Belle’s father,” she interrupted to explain. “Belle is the child of a former marriage.”
“She goes by the name of Newberry, however?” the lawyer asked, puzzled.
“No,” the woman said, “ we do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s this way,” she went on, speaking rapidly “my husband’s name is Moar. Up until two months ago I was Mrs. Moar. Overnight, my husband changed his name. He ceased to be C. Waker Moar, and became Carl W Newberry. He simply walked out of his position as bookkeeper in the Products Refining Company. We hurriedly moved to another city, lived under the name of Newberry, then went to Honolulu, and have been there for six weeks. My husband gave strict orders that under no circumstances were any of us ever to mention the name of Moar.”