Chapter 8 chapter eight

The Cornish Hotel is an unassuming hotel on the edge of the business district.The night shift at the counter was a man in his sixties with a high forehead and fluffy hair sticking out from his ears.He looked at Mason and Della through the rimless glasses on his face, and then said suddenly, "It's full. There are no rooms left." Mason said, "Is a man named Harry Van Nuys checking in with you?" "Yes, Van Nuys from Las Vegas, Nevada, the registered room is room 618. Do you want to leave a message for him?" "I wish you'd give him a call and tell him I'm coming."

"Is he waiting for you?" "That's not always the case." "It's getting late." "I know what time it is." The counter clerk hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly picked up a call line and said, "There is a lady and a gentleman downstairs who want to see you." He waited a moment, then turned his head. "Tell me again, what's your name?" he asked. "Mason." The counter clerk said into the microphone, "It's a Mr. Mason. . . OK. I wasn't sure if you were off." The waiter pulled out the connector and said impatiently: "You can go up."

Mason nodded to Della. The elevator they were in rattled as if it had taken an eternity to wobble to the sixth floor. Harry Van Nuys was waiting for them at the door of Room 618. When Van Nuys' slender fingers held Mason's hand, Mason took the opportunity to look him up.Van Nuys said very politely: "I think you are Mr. Mason, so this should be Mrs. Mason?" "She's Miss Streeter." "Oh, I'm sorry. Please come in, both of you! The room is messy, please forgive me. I didn't expect anyone to come to me, so I left things everywhere. Miss Streeter, please sit in that chair, you will Found it very comfortable to sit on. Let me grab the magazines and papers first."

His voice is warm and pleasant, with high and low pitches, full of emotion. His restless eyes were so dark that it was difficult to detect the emotion contained in them, but his voice seemed to express it.When he does speak, there is no conversational monotony in his tone; instead, his every word seems charged with emotion.As he moved about the house, his gestures were graceful, appropriate, and impressive. Mason said jokingly, "Do you treat all your visitors with such hospitality? Didn't it occur to you that we might be here to sell books, or to raise money for a charity?" Van Nuys showed a sincere smile, and then said: "Mr. Mason, if this is the case, so what? You took the time to come here to see me at such an unusual time. I think that no matter what it is, since It will be so important that you sacrifice your precious time to come here, and it is worth my polite reception. Besides, I am engaged in sales work, and I always insist on a concept-anyone is entitled to someone else's Listen with respect."

"Well," Mason admitted. "That's a good point, too. Do you really not know who I am and what I do?" "have no idea." "I am a lawyer." "Mason...Mason...could it be Perry Mason?" "good." "I have indeed heard of your name, Mr. Mason. Delphine told me that you have visited her." "Delphine?" Mason asked. "Mrs. Milfield." "Oh, yes, it is because of her that I am here to visit you." "real?" "You know her well, don't you?" "Oh yes." "Did you know her husband too?"

"Yes, I know it, and know it well, Mr. Mason." Mason suddenly asked, "Why did she change her mind and not fly to San Francisco on Friday afternoon?" Although Van Nuys' eyes and face remained calm and composed, his voice still seemed unable to conceal his inner emotions."I'm sorry about that," he said, and from the tone of his voice - he seemed a little embarrassed. "I think no one knows why!" "Can you explain, please?" Mason asked. "I'm afraid it has nothing to do with the subject that interests you, Mr. Mason." "You mean, I'm nosy?"

"No, no, Mr. Mason, please don't get me wrong. I... I just don't feel comfortable giving you all the details." "why?" "Well, first of all, there's a personal factor involved: I was the one who went to the airport to persuade her to come back. And in a way, it's indirectly related to a friend of mine - if he's still If I'm alive, I don't know if I'll be allowed to tell you about it. However, judging from the current situation... Well, he can't promise me anything anymore." "Do you mean Fred Milfield?" "yes."

"Why? Does it have anything to do with him?" "Well, that's a chore." Mason said, "Listen, Van Nuys, I'm not going to side-talk you, let's open the skylights and tell the truth. The police are investigating a murder case, they will never give up any clues, and I am working on this case myself. Investigative work, and I will never let go of any leads that can be pursued." "How do you know what happened at the airport?" Van Nuys asked suddenly. Mason said: "Because I am investigating the murder of Mr. Milfie, I thought that the cancellation of the scheduled flight must have something to do with this case."

"no connection." "I'd rather judge for myself." "You haven't told me how you know about this." "Yes, I won't tell you how I learned about it, nor will I let you know how I knew about your connection to it. I don't have to tell you." "Sorry, I don't think so." Mason said, "Damn it, I tried to tell you in a tactful way and you pushed me to get straight and straight. What I'm going to tell you is that if you don't reveal the whole thing and give If I have a satisfactory explanation, then I have no choice but to turn to the police and let them find a way to find out."

"Why do you want to do this?" "Because some people are very concerned about the cause of Fred Milfield's death, and hope that the mystery of his death can be clarified as soon as possible. I am currently investigating this matter under their entrustment." "I am concerned about this case myself, and if there is any connection between the cancellation of the trip and this case, I will let you know." "Anyway, tell me," Mason said. "I will judge for myself whether they are related." Van Nuys took a look at Della, and then separated the two legs that were originally crossed.After a while, he turned his feet up again, put his right foot on his left knee, took out a silver cigarette case from his pocket, and asked, "Would you like a cigarette?"

"Thank you," Della said. Mason also took one, and they all lit cigarettes. At this time, Mason said: "Take a cigarette, light a cigarette, and smoke a cigarette. This should give you enough time to think of a way to explain it!" Van Nuys said in a sad and helpless tone: "It did give me a while, but I still don't know what to do." "Take your time." Mason said, moving his body back and sitting on the chair. "Okay," Van Nuys blurted out suddenly. "Do you know anything about Delphine? Do you know her background?" "Know nothing." "She's a strange person, emotionally unstable." "how do I say this?" "She often has certain emotional delusions or weird behavior." "Are you trying to tell me in a discreet, reserved way that she's a loose, loose woman?" Mason asked. "No, no—not at all. She's... she's more of a sentimental gypsy." "And what does a sentimental gypsy mean?" "Well, she's prone to destructive emotional storms. She's usually able to recover quickly, and those emotional storms are brief but violent and violent." "And she's facing a storm like this right now, isn't she?" "Not now, but not long ago." "Is there an affair with you?" "Follow me?" Van Nuys laughed loudly. "I'm just a friend of their family. I know her too well, and she knows me very well. I'm just her comfort when she's sad, and that's all I want to play. So, how Could it be me? The man is a young man living in San Francisco. Delphine decided to break the boat and cut off all retreats. She left a note for Fred, going to San Francisco to meet her lover. She wanted Fred divorced her, or let him see. Delphine was one of those women who, if she made up her mind, would go all out. In that respect, you have to admit that she does have that quality. , doing things very thoroughly.” "Listening to you, this seems to have become a habit." "It's not a habit." Van Nuys said. "Mr. Mason, this is really hard to explain." "Seems right." "Delphine is a woman who can't be idle for a moment. She must be madly in love with someone at any time." "But she has a husband," said Mason suggestively. "Hey! Come on! Mr. Mason. You're a realist—or rather, you're supposed to be a practical person. Marriage is an active relationship, and it does have its tiresome, uninteresting moments. And this That's the problem with Delphine, she can't bear to be fidgety; she has to be in love -- madly in love. However, it's pretty hard to be madly in love with the same husband 365 days a year." "You seem to be defending her," Mason said. "I just want you to get to know her." "Well, I'll take your word for it—she's a sentimental gypsy. She was leaving for San Francisco. What did you do?" "I stopped this." "why?" "Because I know that if she goes, she will be even less happy." "You caught her at the airport in time to tell her she had to go home, didn't you?" "yes." "So she came back to Los Angeles with you. And what did you do?" Mason asked. "I talked to her and I told her frankly what a fool she would make of herself." "Then how did she react?" "It was crying first, and finally she agreed with me. And told me I was the best friend she ever had." "When did that happen?" "Just after I left the airport." "Are you driving her home?" "yes." "How long did it take?" "Twenty to twenty-five minutes." "How long did you stay there after you took her home?" "About half an hour to forty-five minutes." "How do you know you can find her at the airport?" "That was an unexpected coincidence." "Unexpected coincidences, I'm used to it," Mason told him. "Fred and I had... had a business relationship before, and we each did our own work and performed our own duties." "You mean, you work with Mr. Milfield at Skinnerhill Karaku?" "In a way, yes. But my connection to the company is somewhat indirect." "What does it mean?" "Well, I... I was in charge of other shares in the company at the time, not... Well, that's it, Mr. Mason. There are some business matters that I can't talk about here." "You mean, you were working in the oil fields, and..." "Oh, please! Mr. Mason. I didn't say that, please don't speculate. All I can say is that Fred and I are friends. He told me to go over to his house to get a briefcase with papers in it, and he He described the exact location to me, and was afraid that Delphine would not be home, so he handed me his key; he thought that Delphine might have been out shopping, or on some other errand." "When was that?" Mason asked. "About noon." "Why doesn't Mr. Milfield fetch the papers himself?" "He had to go to an important dinner at noon that day." "You're meeting him after lunch, aren't you?" "No, about four o'clock in the afternoon." "Do you know where he's going? What's he going to do with those papers?" "Those were documents he was going to show Mr Burbank, who was waiting for him - on his yacht." "But didn't Burbank always insist on absolute privacy on board his yacht? He didn't want anyone to bother him with business matters!" "Usually that's true, but that was an exceptional case. Mr. Burbank wanted to see Fred; in fact, Burbank once sent him to his yacht." "you sure?" "yes." "Let's say it's like this: Roger Burbank wasn't on the yacht on Friday afternoon, and wasn't even planning to go there." Van Nuys shook his head with a smile, looking very confident. "Mr. Mason, I think you will find that the situation is not what you think." Mason was about to speak, but changed his mind temporarily.He thought carefully about Van Nuys's answer for a moment before saying, "Okay, you go get the papers, and what happens next?" "I found a note pinned to my pillow on the couch." "What do you do with it? Do you put it back in its place after reading it?" "Of course not. I was afraid that Fred might come running in suddenly, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket." "Is that note addressed to Fred?" "yes." "Have you brought it with you?" "Mr. Mason, don't you think this request is too much?" "Won't." "Mr. Mason, that note concerns someone's happiness..." "That note," Mason put in. "It's evidence. At least it helps to shed some light on the case I'm investigating. If you really want to avoid publicity, I think you'll agree that the best way to do this is to give the information I want to I." Van Nuys hesitated for a moment, and glanced at Della with a questioning expression.Della nodded to him and said, "This is the best way, you should be able to see it." "Oh, okay!" Van Nuys finally accepted their suggestion. "Perhaps it would be best for you to have the evidence, Mr. Mason." He opened a briefcase, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to Mason. Mason could see that the paper had been stapled to some kind of fabric.The small holes where the two pins go through at the top, and the somewhat wrinkled surface are natural signs of where the pins have been driven. The words on the note were written with a pen dipped in ink, and the font was quite neat.

"Well written," Mason said. "She meant it—everything she said didn't sound like a joke," Van Nuys said. "I bet she meant it. Who's Doug?" "The man she was going to meet in San Francisco." "To be more specific, what is the man's full name?" Van Nuys smiled, shook his head and said, "Mr. Mason, there is a limit to this, you should know." "What limit?" "See how far we're going to drag other people into this." "Oh, come on, now you're involved in a murder! Who the hell is Doug?" "I'm afraid I can't just give you that message casually." Van Nuys's tone is serious now, full of majesty. Mason suddenly moved his chair back and stood up. "Well, Van Nuys, thank you for telling me these things." "Will you keep this a secret?" "of course not." "I think you should keep it a secret." "Then you misunderstand me." "I thought you were going to say that you might give the information to the police." "Yes, it is true." "You won't hand it over to them, will you?" "Of course I will give them a reference. Unless I have a very clear feeling that there is some reason why I shouldn't do it, I will not think about it." "Let me tell you, this has absolutely nothing to do with Fred's death. It's between him and...well, him and someone else." "Did you say that this man lives in San Francisco?" "yes." "Did he ever write to her?" Van Nuys avoided Mason's gaze. Mason said: "Well, sooner or later the police will find out, no need to be mysterious. They will ask her to give an account of her whereabouts on Friday afternoon. If she lies, she will get herself in a lot of trouble." "The police won't find any letters," Van Nuys said. "You mean, have they been disposed of?" "I mean, the police will never find them." Mason suddenly stepped forward, mentioned the briefcase that Van Nuys had put beside the chair, and said, "The implication is that the things are in your hands?" "Mr. Mason, please, that's my briefcase." Mason said to Della, "Call Captain Trager." After a tense silence, Della got up and went to where the phone was kept. Van Nuys waited for her to pick up the phone, and then suddenly said: "Miss Straiter, please hang up the phone. The letter is in the right compartment of the briefcase, Mr. Mason." Della hung up the phone.Mason opened the briefcase, took out the letter, glanced at it, and stuffed the letter into his pocket. "What are you going to do with those letters?" Van Nuys asked in surprise. "I'm going to read it in detail," Mason said. "If your argument is correct that these letters really have nothing to do with this case, I will return them to you." "What if it's related to the case?" Van Nuys asked. "If so," Mason said. "I'm going to keep the letters." Mason walked towards the door, stopped halfway, and said, "So, when you find this note, you rush to the airport." "yes." "Didn't you go to meet Mr. Milfield as originally agreed?" "No, I'll take him the documents he needs, and then I'll rush to the airport." "Where did you meet him?" "It's right at the gate of this hotel. He was in a hurry to go to the yacht club, and he was already half an hour late. At that time, he seemed troubled and emotional." "What's bothering him?" "Some kind of business problem, he said someone lied about him." "Was those lies told to Burbank?" "As far as I understand, it is. However, I had many things on my mind at the time, so I didn't ask him for details. Fred seemed in a hurry because he was late and worried that he would not be able to meet Burbank in time— —You seem to be mistaken on this point, Mr. Mason. Burbank and Milfield have arranged to meet at the Yacht Club at five o'clock in the afternoon, and Burbank is to sail his skiff to the buoy at the mooring at five o'clock sharp. .” "I see. So you'll have to wait here at the hotel for half an hour before Mr. Milfield arrives, will you?" "That's right—thirty-five minutes, exactly. I'll be standing outside the gate waiting for him." "Why is he late?" "I don't know, he was quite emotional at the time." "Was Mrs. Milfield still there when you got to the airport?" "Fortunately, she is still there. She hasn't bought a ticket yet, and she was waiting in the lounge at that time to see if she could get a seat vacated by other passengers who canceled their trip temporarily." "And then you just drive her back, don't you?" "yes." "Did you show her the note you found?" "Of course there is." Mason said, "I'm going to think about this." "Mr. Mason, I am sorry that you seem to have a different opinion of Mrs. Milfield than I do," said Van Nuys, with a serious air. "I'm going to have to think a little more about her," Mason said. "I don't think you've really thought about it so far," Van Nuys said. "Maybe I haven't," Mason said frankly. "I don't want to see people from other people's point of view. I want to judge in my own way. Good night!"