Chapter 5 chapter Five

Carlo tucked her hand under Mason's arm and said, "This way." Then she led him out of the building and walked half a block down the street to a parking lot. "He should be here," she said, looking around at the pedestrians nearby, frowning. "Who? Father?" "No, it's Jason Beltin." "Who is Jason Beltin?" "My father's right-hand man." "Did he know about the murder?" "Know." "Does he know where you're going too?" "No, I don't know." After a while, she seemed to rethink the hasty answer she had just given, and said, "All Jason knows is to bring the car and fill it with gas, and put two five-gallon barrels in the back of the car. The suitcase. He was supposed to be here five minutes ago, waiting for me, of course, I thought he might be in some trouble, but . . . oh, here he is."

A fast-moving car overtakes another.Then, it turned into the parking lot under the continuous sliding motion. "That's Beltin. Don't show any signs—pretend we've never met him," Carlo cautioned. "Just standing there as if we were waiting for a car to come and be handed over to us." "Why is it so mysterious?" "Trust me," she pleaded. "I can't explain it right now, just wait and do what I say." A slender man of about thirty-five who walked hunched over gave the car to an attendant, who charged twenty-five cents and tore off a perforated, numbered sheet. A long and thin note, and handed it to him.After leaving the parking lot, Beltin walked past Carlo and Mason. He didn't show any look of knowing Carlo, but just stretched out his hand, and Carlo took the parking ticket with his hand.

Carlo said, "Let's see if anyone's following him... There's a guy over there, see? He's getting out of the parked car. Look - he's following Jason." "It's a busy city street after all, and if you turn around and look back at any point in the area, you'll see a hundred or two hundred people walking behind you, does that mean they're following you?" Mason said. She didn't speak, and waited for Jason to turn the corner, then she carefully found another attendant—not the one who had parked Beltin, she calmly handed the parking ticket to the attendant, and waited for the other attendant. The car was driven to the exit of the parking station.Then, she got into the driver's seat, waited for Mason to also get into the car and sat down beside her, and drove the car out; she paused for a moment on the side rail of the road, and skillfully drove into the busy traffic.She was obviously very proficient in driving. Although Mason was silent, he cast a very appreciative look.

"Now," she said. "To make sure we're not being followed..." She swerved abruptly to the left, just across the front of a swarm of oncoming traffic—the cars started and sped forward at the same time as the traffic signal changed. "Anyone coming?" she asked, straightening herself. Mason took a deep breath and didn't look back at all. "If anyone had been following us, we would have heard the crash." She turned right at the next corner, slowed down, and came to a red light.As soon as the signal changed, she sped out again, as before at another intersection.

Carlo seemed to calm down in the driver's seat after making sure no one was following them.The car passed Hollywood and entered Ventura Boulevard.Whenever she encounters slower vehicles along the way, she will speed up and get ahead.Mason leaned back to smoke, seeming to appreciate Carlo's silence. They crossed the small incline on Conicio Slopes, then sped down the hill into the Camarillo; she checked her watch again and drove on into Ventura. "Hopefully we'll get there in time," she said. It was the first thing she said after leaving Los Angeles. Mason remained silent.

On the way from Ventura to Santa Barbara, she suddenly slowed down and pulled the car into a "motel", a clean stucco bungalow with a red brick roof, which was right in front of the bright green behind. The contrasting palm fronds and the blue ocean form an interesting contrast. "Are we going to get off here?" Mason asked. "yes." Mason followed her into the manager's office. "Has a man named—J. C. Reising checked in with you?" she asked. The manager looks at her accommodation register. "Cabin Fourteen, there are five people having a party."

"Thank you," Carlo said.She gave the manageress her sweetest smile and nodded to Mason. They walked along a driveway, the gritty pavement rattling with trampling; the sun was setting, casting long shadows on the buildings.A cold wind whipped the shore into white spray, and the oncoming gust forced Carlo to lean forward and blow her skirt against her knees. The cabin they were looking for seemed dark and silent, and there was no car parked in the garage. Carlo ran up the three concrete steps and knocked urgently on the door; when no one answered, she tried to turn the knob. The door was not locked, and as soon as she turned the knob, the wind from behind them blew it open.

Carlo leapt forward and said with a nervous laugh: "I think—we'd better go in and see." Mason followed her in, pushing back with his shoulders and closing the door.He raised his voice and called, "Hello! Is anyone home?" No response heard. It was a building divided into four rooms, which could also be separated into two double cabins. The large room in the front has two beds and is large enough to be a spacious living room. The equipment in the hostel is beautiful, the beds are neatly made and clean, three chairs surround the couch in a semicircle shape, and every ashtray in the house seems to have been used, with cigarette butts and cigar residues scattered inside.There were five glasses on a low table, the trash can next to the couch was filled with empty bottles and shakers, and the room stank of cigarette butts and rotting wine.

Carlo said: "I'm afraid they have already left. Let's look around to see if there is any luggage." She showed Mason around each room. No luggage was seen, but there were some soiled towels in the bathroom, and a safety razor and shaving brush on one of the shelves; Carlo looked at it, then picked up the brush, and said in surprise: "This is my dad of!" "Maybe he's coming back soon," Mason said. "No, his duffel bag is gone. He's left only his shaving stuff. He's always been forgetful about stuff like that." "Do you think he won't come back?"

"I don't think so, because the house has been used—that's what it's rented out for." "What is the use of?" "Political rally. It's some bigwigs, tycoons from Sacramento, I can't tell you who they are, I dare not even hint to you what they're discussing. It's a bunch of political dynamite, huge, Shocking, so if it came to light too early, it could have ruined the political careers of those who participated in this rally." "Okay," Mason told her. "Then what are you going to do next?" She replied, "Nothing. I'll just take my father's shaving kit. There's nothing we can do now."

Mason didn't speak. Carlo hesitated, then slowly picked up the shaving brush, his eyes fixed on the safety razor on the glass shelf. "He didn't clear this thing up," she said, turning to Mason again. "Do you think I should rinse and clean it?" "That depends on the situation." "What's the situation?" "See if you think the facts that prove your father was here are important." "He won't admit that he's ever been here." "why?" "As I explained to you, exposure is, for those gathered here, tantamount to political death." "But that wouldn't hurt your father's career, would it?" "what you mean?" "I mean: if the fact that he's here is known to the outside world..." "No, not my father; I think someone else." "Suppose your father never mentioned their names?" "Why? What good is that?" "In case your father needs proof of where he was last night, that razor might be a bit of 'enhanced evidence'—you know, the so-called trichomicroscopy," Mason said. Her eyes shone, apparently suddenly realizing the importance of Mason's words.She said in amazement: "You are absolutely right, it makes sense." Mason said: "You can go to the manager's office later, tell her that you will continue to rent the house for a week, and pay her in cash immediately; Anyone coming into the house - not even the maid cleaning the bedroom." "That's a good idea," she said a little excitedly. "Let's go!" "We should be able to lock the front door, did you see the key somewhere?" Mason said. They searched everywhere, but could not find any key.The door to room thirteen was locked and the key was inside, but the key to room fourteen was missing. "That seems to be it," Mason said. "Where do you think your father is now?" There was panic in Mason's eyes after listening to Mason's question, and she said panickedly: "He's gone back to the yacht, the police will be waiting to question him, and he's going to tell them a little lie, Avoid revealing the fact that you were here at the time." Mason said, "Let's go to the front office and make arrangements, then go back to Los Angeles and try to find your father." Mason opens the door for Carlo.A cold westerly wind blows head-on from the sea.With some effort, he pulled the knob and closed the door. "You talk to the manager," she said, before adding, "Here, you'd better have some money first." She thrust a bundle of bills into Mason's hand.Mason took a look. They were all twenty-dollar bills, tied together with a piece of paper with the Bank of Los Angeles mark on them. The value of the bundle of bills was exactly five hundred dollars. "That doesn't seem to be needed," Mason said. "It doesn't matter, keep them all, you will have other expenses, first make a record of each expense one by one, and then we will find time to make appropriate adjustments." Mason put the bill in the side pocket of his coat, then walked into the room marked "Office" and stood at the counter to wait.After a while, the woman who was the manager came out. "Did you find who you were looking for?" she asked. Mason put on his most attractive look before explaining, "The situation is unique and a little complicated." The smile on the female manager's face disappeared immediately, her eyes became indifferent, and then she shifted her gaze from Mason's face to the young woman next to her - Carlo. "Oh?" she asked coldly. "Excuse me, how complicated is the situation?" Mason said: "We were looking for the lady's father, who should have been waiting to meet us in room fourteen; but we were late, and I think he may have gone out to find us by now, and we must hurry and try to get in touch with us." He made contact." The manager's expression was still indifferent, and he didn't say a word, just waiting for Mason to finish his explanation.This made him feel less motivated. Mason went on: "So I think the best we can do at the moment is to ask you not to let that house out again." "The original rent payment is due at twelve o'clock tomorrow," she said. "Have the names of all the people gathered in that house been registered?" Mason asked. "Why ask this question?" "I want to make sure that's who we're looking for." "Is that the name J. C. Lessing?" Carlo said hastily, "That's one of the people's names, not my father's. I wonder if they all registered their names?" "Your honorable name?" the manager asked. Carlo replied, "Burbank Roger, Burbank." The female manager seemed to be relenting a bit. "We don't usually register every single member of the same gang - let alone a big gang! Only one person does - usually the guy who owns the car, but he just puts the license plate number and the car. pattern. Wait a minute, let me look it up." She turned and found a record book, and said, "No, it just says J. C. Resing and company." "That house is in order, there's no point in letting anyone in until tomorrow morning," Mason said. "Who would go in there?" asked the manager. "The housekeeper might come in and change the towels," Mason said. "Well, so what?" "We want the room to stay the way it is." The woman said coldly again: "The rent is eight yuan a day." Mason gave her forty dollars and said, "That's five days' rent." When she looked at the money in her hand, her attitude seemed to be a little restrained. "Do you want me to issue a receipt?" she asked in a softer tone. Mason's tone at this time is as indifferent as her original expression—— "certainly."