he Case of the Stuttering Bishop

morally certain the woman who has presented herself to you as Julia Branner is not the woman who married my son. I know that the person who will be produced by her as her child will not be the daughter of my dead son, and I have reason to believe that your own interest in the matter has been excited largely because you feel a certain person whom you consider above reproach, and who should be in a position to have accurate information, had interested himself in the person who seeks to become your client. Therefore, I am willing to show you this letter. I will not tell you whom it is from, but will merely state that I consider the source to be above reproach.'

Brownley extended the letter. Mason read:

'As a result of our investigation, we feel that we can state definitely an attempt will be made to discredit the real Janice Brownley and substitute in her place an impostor. The parties who will be interested in doing this have been fully conversant with the situation for some months and have been carefully awaiting the most auspicious time to launch their activities. In order to be successful, they will have to interest some attorney of ability who will be able to finance the fight, and in order to convince such an attorney, it will be necessary to have some influence brought to bear upon him.

'These parties deliberately waited until Bishop William Mallory, of Sydney, Australia, took a sabbatical year. He announced his intention to spend this year in travel and study and, to safeguard himself from interruptions, kept his itinerary a closely guarded secret.

'Our investigator has established an inside contact with these parties and we are, therefore, in a position to inform you that a clever impostor will pose as Bishop Mallory, contact some attorney, who has been carefully selected well in advance, and persuade him to act in the matter. This spurious bishop will appear upon the scene only long enough to impress the attorney. He will then disappear.

'We are advising you of this in advance so you may take steps to apprehend this impostor if he remains in contact with the parties long enough to enable you to have a warrant issued. In any event, you may anticipate that some aggressive attorney, of sufficient financial responsibility to handle the case on a contingency basis, will interest himself in the matter. We would suggest you consult with your attorney in order to anticipate this situation and map out your own plan of campaign. We will have additional facts to report within the next few days.

'Very truly yours,'

'Doubtless,' Mason said, his face not changing expression by so much as the motion of a muscle, 'this letter carries weight with you?'

'It doesn't with you?' Brownley asked, watching him shrewdly, his voice showing some surprise.

'None whatever.'

'I paid money to get that letter,' Brownley said. 'When you know me better, Mr. Mason, you'll know that whenever I pay money for anything, I get the best. Permit me to state: That letter carries great weight with me.'

'The letter might have carried great weight with me,' Mason told him, 'if I had seen it as a letter. But you chose to tear off everything of value, leaving nothing but an anonymous communication, and I, therefore, regard it as such-merely an anonymous letter.'

Brownley's face showed his irritation. 'If you think,' he said, 'that I'm going to divulge the identity of my fact-finding organizations, you're mistaken.'

Mason shrugged his shoulders and said, 'I think nothing. I merely placed certain cards on the table and asked you to match them. So far you haven't done it.'

'And,' Brownley announced with finality, 'that's just as far as I'm going.' Mason pushed back his chair as though to rise. 'Not going, Mr. Mason?' Brownley asked.

'Yes. If you have given me all you have to offer, you have fallen far short of convincing me.'

'Has it ever occurred to you, Mr. Mason, that you are not the one to be convinced?'

Mason, who was standing with his knuckles resting on the edge of the table, the weight of his broad shoulders supported by his rigid arms, said, 'No, it hasn't. For the purpose of this interview, I'm the boss. If you can't convince me you're in the right, you've got a fight on your hands.'

'Spoken like a good business man,' Brownley conceded. 'But I'm going to show that you're checkmated before you start.'

'Checkmated,' Mason said, 'is an expression of considerable finality. I have been in 'check' many times; I have been checkmated but seldom.'

'Nevertheless,' Brownley said, 'you're checkmated now. It happens, Mr. Mason, that I don't want my granddaughteris name dragged through a lot of court proceedings. I don't want a lot of newspaper notoriety focused upon my private affairs. Therefore, I am going to keep you from engaging in any fight for this spurious grandchild.'

Despite himself, Mason's voice showed surprise. 'You're going to keep me from doing something I want to do?' he asked.

'Exactly,' Brownley said.

'It has been tried before,' Mason told him dryly, 'but never with any great degree of success.'

Brownley's lidless eyes twinkled with frosty merriment. 'I can well understand that, Counselor,' he said, 'but since you have investigated my family, you may have investigated me and if so, you have doubtless learned that I am a ruthless fighter, a hard man to cross, and one who always gets his own way.'

'You are now speculating,' Mason said, 'upon the out come. Your statement a moment ago was to the effect that you were going to keep me from starting proceedings.'

'I am.'

Mason's smile of polite incredulity was a sufficient comment in itself.

'I am going to keep you from doing it,' Brownley said, 'because you are a businessman. The other side have no funds with which to fight. Their only hope lies in interesting some attorney who has ample finances of his own, who will be willing to gamble upon a contingency. Therefore, if I can show you that you have no hope of winning, you are a good enough business man not to start.'

'It would,' Mason told him, 'take a mighty good man to convince me I had no hope of winning a lawsuit. I prefer to reach my own conclusions on that.'

'Understand,' Brownley said, 'I am not foolish enough to think that I could prevent you from seeking to establish the legitimacy of a spurious grandchild, but I do feel certain that I can show you it won't do you any good when once you have established your claim. Being my grandchild means nothing to anyone. The girl is of age and under any circumstances there would be no obligation on my part to support her. The sole advantage to be derived from establishing the relationship would be the expectancy of sharing in my property after I have gone. Therefore, Mr. Mason, I am making a will in which the bulk of my property is left to my granddaughter, Janice Brownley, and I particularly provide in that will that the person to whom I refer as my granddaughter is the one who is at present living with me as my grandchild; that it makes no difference whether the relationship is authentic or not; that she is the beneficiary under my will. Now then, I know that you might try to set such a will aside. Therefore, tomorrow morning at nine o'clock I shall sign conveyances which will irrevocably convey to the person who is living with me as my granddaughter a full three-fourths of my property, reserving a life estate to myself. The remaining one-fourth will be similarly transferred to my other grandchild, Philip Brownley.'

Brownley's steady, cold eyes stared triumphantly at the lawyer. 'Now, Counselor,' he went on, 'there is a perfectly impossible legal nut for you to crack. I think you are too smart a man to butt your head against a brick wall. I want you to understand that in me you have found an adversary as ruthless as yourself. There's nothing at which I will stop when I have once made up my mind. In that way, I am, I think, much like yourself. But it happens that in this matter I hold all of the trump cards, and I intend to play them with every bit of cold blooded efficiency at my command. And now, Mr. Mason, let me wish you good night and tell you that I have enjoyed meeting you.' Renwold Brownley wrapped long fingers about Mason's muscular hand, and Mason found those fingers as cold as steel.

'The butler,' Brownley said, 'will show you to your car.' And the butler, doubtless summoned by some secret signal noiselessly opened the library door and bowed to Perry Mason.

Mason stared at Brownley. 'You're not a lawyer?' he asked.

'No, but I have the benefit of the best legal talent available.'

Mason turned, nodded to the butler and picked up his rain coat. 'When I have finished with the case,' he said grimly, 'you may have changed your mind about the efficiency of your lawyers. Good night, Mr. Brownley.'

Mason paused at the outer door long enough to let the butler assist him into his coat. Rain was beating down in torrents whipping the surface of the driveway into miniature geysers. The branches of the wind-lashed trees tossed about like grotesque arms, waving in surrender to the storm. Mason slammed the door of his car, switched on the ignition and headlights, snapped the gearshift back into low gear, and ease in the clutch. The car purred out from the shelter of the porte-cochere into the full force of the storm. He had shifted to second, and was placing a cautious foot upon the brake pedal to slow down for a curve in the graveled driveway, when his headlights picked out a figure which stood, braced against the beating rain.

Against the black background of the shrubbery, the figure was etched into white brilliance by the headlights, a slender young man, a rain coat turned up about his neck, a hat pulled low down on the forehead, water streaming from the brim. He extended his arms, and Mason kicked out the clutch and slowed the car to a stop. The young man walked toward him.

Mason was conscious of the white pallor of the face, of the burning purpose in the dark eyes. Mason rolled down the window of his car.

'You're Mr. Mason, the lawyer?' the young man asked.

'Yes.'

'I'm Philip Brownley. Does that mean anything to you?'

'Grandson of Renwold Brownley?' Mason asked.

'Yes.'

'And you wanted to see me?'

'Yes.'

'Better get in out of the rain,' Mason said. 'Perhaps you'd like to drive to my office with me.'

'No. And my grandfather mustn't know that I've talked with you. Tell me, you talked with him?'

'Yes.'

'What about?'

'I'd prefer that you made your inquiries from your grandfather,' Mason said.

'It was about Jan, wasn't it?'

'Jan?'

'You know, Janice-my cousin.'

'After all,' Mason told him, 'I don't feel free to discuss the matter, particularly at present.'

'I might make you a valuable ally,' Philip offered.

'You might,' Mason admitted.

'After all, our interests are somewhat in common.'

'Do you mean by that,' Mason inquired, 'that you feel the person living here in the house as Janice Brownley isn't the daughter of Oscar Brownley?'

'I meant,' Philip repeated, 'that I might make you an ally.'

Mason said slowly, 'I don't think there's anything I'd care to discuss with you at present.'

'Is it true that Grandfather is going to tie your hands by conveying all of his property to Janice and reserving only a life estate for himself?'

'That's also something I'd prefer not to discuss right now. But I'd like very much to talk with you at a more propitious time. Suppose you come to my office tomorrow morning at about ten o'clock.'

'No! No! I can't. But don't you understand what's happened? Grandfather hired a firm of detectives to find Janice. He offered a bonus of twenty-five thousand dollars if they'd find her. They couldn't find Janice, but they weren't going to pass up twenty-five thousand dollars, so they faked the whole business. She's been living here for two years and she's hypnotized him utterly and completely. Morally, I'm entitled to just as much of the estate as she is, even if she's genuine. But she's hypnotized him into giving her the bulk of the property. She's an unscrupulous, scheming adventuress. She