Chapter 6 Chapter Six

After the car drove out of the motel, Carlo asked Mason, "Any thoughts?" Then he continued to drive in the direction of Los Angeles. Mason said, "No." After a while, he asked Carlo, "Would you like a snack?" She smiled and said, "Are you hungry?" "I'm really hungry. The cold wind has whetted my appetite." "Let's buy something to eat on the road later, I'm in a hurry to find my father." "Don't you think it seems too late to look for him now? Perhaps the police have found him beforehand." "Maybe."

The sun had sunk below the horizon, making the sea a cool blue; the water stirred restlessly under the wind.Looking further to the right, the Channel Islands are a gray shadow against a greenish blue sky to the west. "I think we'd better turn on the lights," Carlo said, turning on the headlights. As the car passed Ventura and gradually approached Camariro, Mason said, "How long do you think your father left that motel?" She took her eyes off the road and took a quick look at Mason. "I don't know. Why are you asking me that question?" "I was just thinking..."

"I have no way of knowing." "I understand." The car went up to Carneggio, and passed through a highland country, with tall and lush oak trees standing on both sides of the road.The cold north wind has calmed down, and the sky at dusk is dotted with stars, crystal clear like clear crystals, dazzling and dazzling.After a little more driving, they saw a sign pointing to the city of Los Angeles; fifteen or twenty minutes later Carlo said suddenly, "There's a restaurant up ahead, and my father usually eats there when he drives by. If If he had left the motel in the late afternoon, we might have found him in that restaurant."

"In that case," Mason said. "We must have passed him on the road." "I think we've certainly surpassed him," Carlo said. "It's the one up front, with the red sign saying 'Dobo Hut Restaurant.'" Mason didn't speak. Carlo pulled the car into a parking space, turned off the ignition, and unlocked the left door.After stepping out of the car door, when Carlo inserted the key into the lock, Mason pointed to a car parked in the opposite row of cars and said, "It seems that the police also eat here." "Oh, yes! Highway Patrolmen eat here, and..."

"That's not a highway patrol car." Carlo didn't speak any more.Mason held her arm lightly and led her into the door of Dobo restaurant. There were about fifteen tables in the dining-room, and on the side opposite the door there was a large fireplace with crackling oak wood that gave warmth to the interior.A hostess in a Spanish ball gown—with jet-black hair, deep-set eyes, and heavily lipsticked lips—smiles at Mason and leads them to a table. At this moment, Carlo suddenly made a surprised sound, and cast his gaze to the left corner.There were three people sitting at a table talking and Carlo walked over.

Mason saw a stocky man with a short gray mustache and piercing eyes.He looked up at Carlo, smiling.Carlo said, "Hi! Dad, what are you doing here?" All three men stood up.Mason walked up behind Carlo, bowed to the man with the gray mustache, and said, "I think you are Mr. Roger Burbank!" "This is Perry Mason. Dad, you know, he is that famous lawyer." Carlo quickly explained. Burbank reached out a thick, powerful hand across the table and took Mason's hand. "Captain Trager," Mason said, smiling into Trager's slightly bewildered face. "Let me introduce you. This is Carlo Burbank. I suppose the one with you is from Homicide?"

"His name is George Yarvan," said Trager.After a while, he added: "He's an expert on fingerprints." Mason and Yafan shook hands. "Sit down, please," Roger Burbank said politely. The hostess came up smiling and said, "I didn't know you all knew each other, waiter! Please bring two more chairs." The waiter brought two chairs.After Mason asked Carlo to sit down, he sat down himself, and said, "We're starving." Trager said coldly: "Burbank, your reinforcements have arrived so soon!" Burbank frowned. "My reinforcements?"

"Your lawyer." Burbank said, "I think you've misunderstood? I didn't ask Mr. Mason." "Haven't you told him yet?" Carlo asked Trager. "I haven't been here long, and I've only asked a few questions," Trager said. "Tell me what?" Burbank asked Carlo. Trager interrupted: "I have to ask, Mr. Burbank, this is important. Where the hell were you? What were you doing last afternoon and evening? You've been talking about him so far, and now You should confess." "Why are you so curious about my whereabouts?"

Mason said, "There, there, gentlemen! Be gentle." Carlo said, "Dad, you must tell these people where you were. If you don't feel the need to reveal the names of other people, go without saying; but you must tell them where you are and when you were there. This is very important!" Mason said gently, "Fred Milfie was murdered on your yacht." Team Leader Trager made an annoyed gesture. "I was polite and polite to you at the beginning, but the result? There is no reason to ask! I should have taken you back to the police station as soon as I came in just now, and then I will interrogate you there."

"Fred Milfield has been murdered!" cried Roger in surprise. "Yes, Dad, we've been looking for you all afternoon." "And you think it's necessary to bring a lawyer along?" Trager asked. Carlo looked at him with indifferent eyes. "Of course, if you know all the facts of the case..." Burbank said, "I just don't get it—why would anyone want to kill Fred Milfield. Are you sure he was murdered, Captain?" Carlo said, "Dad! Don't you trust my judgment? Please, tell them." Roger said: "Let's listen to what Team Leader Trager has to say."

Carlo said impatiently to Team Leader Trager: "My father wasn't there at all yesterday afternoon. My father has a bit of ties to the political world—some of which must be kept absolutely secret; even now I can't tell you the details, but I Dad was with some big shots from Sacramento who were adamant that their meetings were extremely confidential. My dad just can't reveal their identities to you, and if you ask anyone else that question, they It would also be denied. We can assume that they made all the preparations to keep the secrecy, met at a motel on the seaside road here, got together for nearly twenty-four hours, made plans, and only parted ways a short time ago. I Guessing my dad might stop by for dinner, so I pulled over and tried my luck - and that's how we ended up here." "It's been a lot of fun," Trager said. "Are you saying that none of these people would admit to being at the party?" "Yes, no one would dare to do that." "Okay, let's stop insinuating. Anything that's relevant to this case, we need to know and investigate -- if not," Trager said, his voice turning ominous. generally clear. "We need to find out." "You tell them, Dad," Carlo said. Burbank said nothing, frowning at her daughter as if to express disapproval. "Okay," Carlo said. "If I had to say it, I'd have to. Check out the 'Surf and Sun' motel on the road between Ventura and Santa Barbara, it's on the..." "Oh, I know where," Trager said. "Is that the meeting place?" "Anyway, you go there and check it out." Trager turned to Burbank and said, "If that has anything to do with this case, you'd better prove it." Burbank seemed a little annoyed, and said with a chagrined look, "Oh, my God! Now she's spilling the beans. But, I'll never admit it; if you ask me, I'll... ...damn...I'll flatly deny it." "Any proof?" Trager asked Carlo. "Of course there's evidence - if you collect it now. The ashtrays and empty bottles are still there for fingerprints. We asked the hotel manager to keep the rooms as they were, and my father even left his shaving kit in the bathroom. on a glass shelf." "Alas!" Burbank exclaimed softly. "I keep forgetting that nasty razor." Trager said dryly, "Is there any actual evidence other than that set of shaving kits?" Carlo said, "Dad, did you take the keys? They're not in the motel." Roger Burbank slowly reaches into the side pocket of his coat and pulls out a typical hotel key, with a chain dangling from the loop holding a large tag that reads "Surf and Sun Motel", and there is a big number "Fourteen" below it. There is also a passage on the back of the label, reminding that: If someone accidentally takes the key away, just put a stamp on the label and put it in the mailbox. Captain Trager took the key, moved the chair back, and signaled to the waiter."Cancel what we just ordered and hand the bill to this smart guy," he said. He pointed a finger at Mason viciously.