The Case of the Troubled Trustee by Erle Stanley Gardner Read Free Book Online Page B

Barclay Country Club. It's a key job, and my man didn't have a key, and at that hour of the night there wasn't any chance of getting in without one, but there were three or four cars parked and one of them was Dutton's. My man checked the license number."
    "So what did he do?"
    "Put himself in a position where he could pick up the car when it left, and waited it out. He got there at ten minutes after ten o'clock."
    "Mow long did he have to wait?"
    "About twelve minutes."
    "Then what?"
    "Then Dutton came out at ten-twenty-two and started driving south. My man tailed him without headlights for a while and it was pretty damn risky. But Dutton stopped after a short distance and got out of the car. My man went on past, then pretended to have tire trouble, jacked up the car and waited until Dutton came sailing past.
    "Dutton drove to the border, kept on driving down to Ensenada. He had no idea he was tailed. Me's staying at the Siesta del Tarde Auto Court. He is registered under the name of Frank Kerry."
    Mason said, "He doesn't need any credentials in the way of tourist cards or anything of that sort as long as he's no farther south than Ensenada, eh, Paul?"
    "That's right. If he gets below Ensenada, he's going to need a tourist card or an entry permit of some kind; but as far as Ensenada he's on his own."
    "Your man still tailing him?"
    "That's right. Me's doing the best he can. Of course, one man isn't much good on a twenty-four-hour-a-day job… Do you want me to send a relief down?"
    Mason was thoughtful. "Might as well, Paul," he said. "And I think the time has come for me to assume the role of a Dutch uncle."
    "Doing what?" Drake asked.
    "Getting this thing cleaned up before I get too deeply involved," Mason told him. "After all, Dutton is a client of mine but- Well, I may have to insist that he surrender himself or go to the police."
    "And then what?"
    "Then," Mason said, grinning, "I'lltry to beat the rap."
    The lawyer turned to Della Street. "How," he asked, "would you like to take a couple of notebooks, plenty of pencils, a briefcase and a quick trip down to Ensenada, Mexico? This time I think we'll get the real story."

Chapter Eight
    Mason and Della Street left Tijuana behind, took the smooth, new road to Ensenada.
    "The old road," Mason said, "was more scenic."
    "Wasn't it? But these days one sacrifices everything to speed. However, it's nice to get where you're going without fighting the steering wheel around a lot of curves. Do you think he's really embezzled money, Chief?"
    "I don't know," Mason said. "The way he acts, I'm afraid he's leaving me to hold the sack."
    "In what way?"
    "There'll be a hue and cry," Mason said, "and I'll be in there pitching, assuring everybody that things are going to work out all right; that I have every confidence in my client; that I know the facts; that I have advised him and that he hasn't committed any crime; that in due course everything will be explained and cleared up-,,
    "And then?" she asked.
    "And then," Mason said, "after a while it may dawn on me that my client is being hard to find."
    "You mean in Ensenada?"
    "Ensenada," Mason said, "could be simply the first stop. He's going to stay there long enough to get out from under the telltale registration of his automobile and all that. He'll probably leave the car where it can be found; double back to the United States; grab a plane for Brazil or someplace, and leave me behind to make explanations."
    "You think he's that kind?" she asked.
    "No," Mason said shortly, "I don't."
    "Then what?"
    "That," the lawyer told her, "is the reason we're making this trip, Della."
    They drove into Ensenada, threaded their way down the busy main street, and Mason asked directions to the Siesta del Tarde.
    "Will you know Drake's man?" Della Street asked as they drove up in front of the auto court.
    "He'llknow me," Mason said.
    The lawyer got out and stood stretching and yawning, looking around at the scenery, soaking up the sunlight, before