The Case of the Blonde Bonanza

'Married to a woman who has been married before and who has a grown son, Marvin Harvey Palmer.

'That's just about all I can tell you on short notice.'

'When did Winlock come to Riverside?' Mason asked.

'I didn't get the date. It was around fifteen years ago.'

Mason drummed with his fingers on the edge of the desk, looked up and said, 'See what you can find out about Winlock, Paul.'

Drake said, 'What do you want me to do, Perry? Shall I put a man on Winlock?'

'Not at the moment,' Mason said. 'Boring yes, but Winlock, no.'

'I already have a man working on Boring,' Drake said. 'He's in Hollywood at the moment and I've got a man ready to tail him as soon as contact can be made. I can put a round-the-clock tail on him if that's what you want.'

'Probably the one man is sufficient at the moment,' Mason said. 'The point is that he mustn't get suspicious. I don't want him to feel anyone is taking an interest in him.

'What about the Hollywood Talent Scout Modeling Agency, Paul? Did you get anything on it?'

'It's just a letterhead business,' Drake said. 'The address is at one of those answering-service places where they have a telephone, a secretary and a business address that serves a dozen or so companies. The whole thing is handled by one woman who rents an office and then subrents desk space and gives a telephone-answering, mail-forwarding service.'

'Okay, Paul,' Mason said. 'Stay with it until you find out what it's all about. Remember that technically I don't have any client. I'm doing this on my own so don't get your neck stuck out.'

'Will do,' Drake said and went out in a rush, slamming the door behind him.

Drake had been out of the office less than ten minutes when the phone rang and Della Street relayed the message from the receptionist. 'Dianne Alder is in the office,' she reported.

Mason's frown suddenly lightened into a smile. 'Well, how about that?' he said. 'She's taken the bait and now someone has jerked the line and she's feeling the hook. Go bring her in, Della.'

Della Street nodded, hurried through the door to the reception room and was back in a few moments with an apologetic Dianne Alder.

'Mr. Mason,' she said, 'I know I shouldn't intrude on you without an appointment and I feel just terrible about what happened yesterday; but… well, the bottom has dropped out of everything and I just had to find out what to do.'

'What's happened?' Mason asked.

'A letter,' she said, 'sent registered mail, with a return receipt demanded.'

'You signed the receipt?'

She nodded.

'And the letter is from Boring?' Mason asked.

Again she nodded.

'Telling you that your contract was at an end?'

She said, 'Not exactly. You'd better read it.'

She took a letter from an envelope, unfolded the paper and handed it to Mason.

Mason read the letter aloud for the benefit of Della Street.

'My dear Miss Alder: I know that as a very attractive young woman you realize the instability of styles and the vagaries of the style designers.

'A few weeks ago when we approached you with the idea of creating a new trend, we felt that there were very great possibilities in the idea; and, what is more to the point, we had a wealthy backer who agreed with us.

'Now, unfortunately, there has been a change in certain trends which ha.s caused our backer to become decidedly cool to the whole idea and we ourselves now recognize the first indications of a potentially adverse trend.

'Under the circumstances, realizing that you are making great sacrifices in order to put on weight which may be difficult to take off, knowing that you have given up a good job and feeling that you can very readily either return to that position or secure one equally advantageous, we are reluctantly compelled to notify you that we are unable to go ahead with further payments under the contract.

'If you wish to keep yourself available and there should be a change in the trend, we will keep you in mind as our first choice but we feel it would be unfair to you to fail to notify you of what is happening and the fact that we will be unable to continue the weekly payments in the nature of a guarantee.

'Sincerely yours, Hollywood Talent Scout Modeling Agency, per Harrison T. Boring, President.'

Mason studied the letter thoughtfully for a moment, then said, 'May I see the envelope, please, Dianne?'

She handed him the envelope and Mason studied the postmark.

'You received your money Saturday morning?' he asked.

She nodded.

'And this letter was postmarked Saturday morning. Would you mind telling me why you were so anxious to get your contract back yesterday, Dianne?'

'Because I realized that I was not supposed to give out any information about what I was doing and-'

'And someone telephoned you or reminded you of that clause in your contract?'

'No, it was just something that I remembered Mr. Boring had said.'

'What?'

'Well, you know I had been working as secretary for a firm of attorneys and he told me that he not only didn't want any publicity in connection with the contract, and that I wasn't to talk to anyone about it, but he mentioned particularly that he didn't want me to have any attorney friend looking it over, and if I took it to an attorney it would be a very serious breach of confidence.'

'I see,' Mason said.

'So after I let Della take the contract I suddenly realized that if she should show it to you, I would have been violating his instructions and the provisions of the contract. Tell me, Mr. Mason, do you suppose there's any chance that he knew what I was doing? That is, that I'd seen you Saturday and that I'd let Della Street look at the contract and-'

Mason interrupted by shaking his head. 'This letter is postmarked eleven-thirty Saturday morning,' he said.

'Oh, yes, that's right. I… I guess I felt a little guilty about letting the contract out of my possession.'

'Was there a letter with the check you received Saturday morning?'

'No. Just the check. They never write letters, just send me the check.'

'Did you notice the postmark?'

'No, I didn't.'

'Save the envelope?'

'No.'

'It must have been mailed Friday night,' Mason said, 'if you received it Saturday morning. Now, that means that between Friday night and Saturday noon, something happened to cause Mr. Boring to change his mind.'

'He probably learned of some trend in styles which-'

'Nonsense!' Mason interrupted. 'He wasn't thinking about any trend in styles. That contract, Dianne, is a trap.'

'What kind of a trap?'

'I don't know,' Mason said, 'but you will notice the way it's drawn. Boring pays you a hundred dollars a week and gets one-half of your gross income from all sources for a period of up to six years if he wants to hold the contract in force that long.'

Dianne said somewhat tearfully, 'Of course I didn't regard this as an option. I thought it was an absolute contract. I thought I was entitled to a hundred dollars a week for two years, at least.'

'That's what the contract says,' Mason said.

'Well then, what right does he have to terminate it in this way?'

'He has no right,' Mason said.