The Case of the Lucky Legs by Erle Stanley Gardner Read Free Book Online

the slips of paper. Both of them were telephone calls which had been received and evidently placed in the pigeon-hole at the desk, to be given to the occupant of apartment 302 when he should call for his key.
    One of the messages simply said, "Mr. Patton: Call Harcourt 63891 and ask for Margy – 6:05 P.M."
    The other message read, "Mr. Patton: Tell Thelma Margy will be about twenty minutes late – 8:00 P.M."
    Perry Mason stared frowningly at the two slips of paper, dropped them back on the table, picked up the gray hat and looked at the initials on the band. They were F.A.P.
    Perry Mason stared toward the closed door on his left.
    He let his right hand drop to the edge of the stained table and made little drumming motions with his fingers. Then, reaching a decision, he strode toward the door and opened it.
    There were lights burning in the bedroom just as they had been burning in the room he had entered. To the left of the door was the door of the bathroom, which was open. In the opposite corner was a bed and across from the bed was a dresser. The mirror on the dresser showed a reflection of the corner beyond the bathroom which Perry Mason could not see from the door in which he stood.
    The reflection in the mirror showed the slippered feet of a man, the toes pointed upward at an angle. Above the slippers was a glimpse of bare leg, and then the fringe of a bathrobe.
    Perry Mason stood absolutely motionless for a second or two, his eyes staring at the reflection in the mirror.
    He looked over toward the bed and saw a man's coat, shirt, tie and trousers flung on the bed, apparently without any attempt whatever at order. The coat was wrinkled and one sleeve was pulled up inside of itself; the trousers were flung in a heap. The shirt was at the opposite corner of the bed.
    Underneath the bed were shoes and socks. The shoes were tan oxfords, the socks were gray. Mason looked at the necktie. It too was gray. The trousers and coat were gray.
    Perry Mason stepped into the room and walked around the corner of the bathroom.
    He stood staring at the body which lay on the floor.
    The body was that of a man approximately fifty years of age, with gray hair, close-cropped, grizzled mustache, and a mole on his right cheek.
    The body was attired in underwear, with a silk bathrobe thrown over the shoulders, the right arm through the sleeve, the robe lying loose over the left shoulder, and the left arm bare. One hand was sprawled out with the fingers clutched; the other hand was lying across the chest. The man's body lay on its back, and the eyes were partially open and glazing in death.
    There was a stab wound in the man's left breast from which blood had spurted and was still welling in a thick viscid pool which stained the bathrobe and discolored the carpet. A few feet away from the body there lay on the carpet a long-bladed knife of the sort that is frequently used for cutting bread. It was a knife that had a blade some three inches wide at the base, and which tapered uniformly to a point. The blade was some nine inches long. The knife was covered with blood, and had evidently been dropped after it had been pulled from the man's body.
    Perry Mason carefully avoided the blood, bent down and felt of the man's wrist. There was no pulse. The wrist was still warm.
    The lawyer looked about the room at the various windows. One of them – the one by the bed – opened on a fire escape, and the bed was slightly indented, as though a person had either lain on it, or had crawled across it. Mason tried the door which led from the bedroom to the hallway. It was locked and bolted from the inside. He took his handkerchief and carefully wiped off the doorknob where his fingers had touched it. He walked back to the door which led from the sitting-room to the bedroom and polished the knob of that door with his handkerchief. Then he did the same thing to the knob of the door which led from the living-room to the corridor.
    As he was polishing the doorknob,