ship, he's a liar. I purposely stuck around the pier until there was room for only one more in the launch. Then I took that one seat. The man who was shadowing me tried to follow me but couldn't make it.'
Mason said, 'Another detective was on duty who saw you go down the passageway to the offices. He says you went down only once.'
Oxman laughed scornfully. 'The only detective you had out there was Belgrade. He wasn't shadowing me. He was covering Sylvia. He doesn't know where I was. What's more, he's sold you out to the newspapers… Good Lord, Mason, what an easy mark you are! Come around some day when I have some time. I'd like to play a little poker with you. You're so damned simple and your bluffs are so obvious, you'd be duck soup for me.'
Mason went on patiently, 'Then, after you went ashore, my man shadowed you to your hotel.'
'Good God, Mason, you surely didn't think that was any news to me, did you?' Oxman asked.
'You knew he was following you,' Mason went on steadily, 'and threw a scare into him by standing in the door of the hotel and looking ostentatiously behind you.'
'Check on that,' Oxman agreed easily. 'This dick ducked into a doorway and then stuck around outside, watching the hotel. He was afraid to come in.'
'But,' Mason pointed out, 'I'd anticipated all that, and had another man stationed in the lobby, an operative who was ready to pick you up as soon as you came in.'
The easy, patronizing smile didn't leave Oxman's features, but, for a moment, the muscles tightened. Then he took a cigar from his pocket, cut off the tip and scraped a match on the sole of his shoe. He took a watch from his pocket and placed it on the bed beside him. 'Mason,' he said, 'if you're just talking-killing time to keep me from calling the police-it isn't going to do you any good. In precisely three minutes I'm going to let the house detective know you're here.'
'Now then,' Mason said, ignoring the interruption, 'we come to the really significant part of the entire transaction. You took particular pains to call the attention of the hotel night clerk to the fact that you were depositing ninety-five hundred dollars in the safe. The way I figure that, Oxman, is that you'd raised ninety-five hundred dollars with which to take up those IOU's. When you found out Grieb had been murdered, you were afraid you might be implicated in the murder, and were particularly anxious to build up an alibi which would show you hadn't accomplished your business with Grieb before he'd been killed.
'Later on, you thought it over, read the morning papers, and decided there was a chance to knock down seventy-five hundred dollars.'
Oxman rotated the cigar in the flame of the match, in order to get it burning evenly, shook the match out, and said, 'You're a rotten bluffer, Mason.'
'I'm not bluffing,' the lawyer told him. 'I can prove the ninety-five-hundred-dollar business by the night clerk in the hotel. I don't need to rely on my private detectives there.'
'Yes,' Oxman said, studying the tip of the cigar with thoughtful eyes, but still keeping the faintly scornful smile about the corners of his mouth, 'you could do that, all right. What you have overlooked is that you'd have to prove I had only ninety-five hundred dollars when I went aboard that gambling ship. As a matter of fact, I had seventeen thousand dollars. After I paid seventy-five hundred dollars for the IOU's, I had nine thousand five hundred left. I got the IOU's for about half what I expected I'd have to pay.'
For a moment the two men smoked in silence. Gradually, the smile on Oxman's lips broadened into a grin. 'You see, Mason,' he said, 'as a lawyer it should have occurred to you, but probably hasn't, that you'd have to prove I had only ninety-five hundred dollars when I went aboard the ship. There's no way on God's green earth you can prove it. As a matter of fact, it isn't so. I had seventeen thousand dollars.'
Mason pinched out the end of his cigarette. 'You don't understand what I'm getting at, Oxman. I'm not talking now about what I intend to prove in court. When I leave here, I'm going to Carter Squires. I'm going to tell him my story. Squires was financing you in this thing. He knows how much money you took aboard that ship. When he finds out you tried to double-cross him by knocking down seventy-five hundred dollars, leaving him holding the sack, he won't like it. From all I can hear, Squires is a poor man to cross… Well, the three minutes are up, Oxman. Go ahead and telephone the house detective.'
Oxman sat motionless on the bed, his eyes hard and glittering, staring at Mason with hatred and apprehension. There was no trace of a smile about the corners of his mouth.
'All right, then,' Mason said, 'I'll be on my way.' He started toward the door. Bed springs squeaked as Oxman jerked himself upright and started after the lawyer. 'Now, wait a minute, Mason,' he said. 'Let's talk this thing over.'
Mason turned toward him. 'What do you want to talk over?' he asked.
Oxman said, 'You're all wet, but I'd hate to have you go to Squires with a story like that.'
'Well?' Mason inquired.
Oxman shrugged his shoulders and said, 'Nothing. I'd just hate to have you do it. Squires can't make any trouble for me, you know, but I've been friendly with him for some time, and I'd hate to have you introduce an element of friction.'
Mason stood facing Oxman, feet spread apart, shoulders squared, eyes studying the slender man with a cold scorn. Abruptly he pulled the IOU's from his pocket, tore them into pieces and stepped into the bathroom. A moment later he returned and said, 'Okay, Oxman, we'll forget that about the forgeries and figure your IOU's are genuine.'
Oxman's face showed sudden relief. 'That's better,' he said. 'I thought you'd be sensible. Now, what do you want?'
'Nothing,' Mason told him. 'You may have walked down the corridor to those offices and seen Sylvia bending over the desk. You may have seen the original IOU's on the desk. I don't know. If you did, you'll never dare to admit it, because that would brand your story about paying seventy-five hundred dollars to Grieb as a lie.'
'What are you getting at?' Oxman asked.
'Simply this,' Mason said, grinning mirthlessly, 'I thought I knew the answer, but I wanted to make sure. I wanted to find out definitely and positively that Carter Squires could establish that you had only ninety-five hundred dollars with you when you went aboard that gambling ship. Nine thousand five hundred dollars which he'd given you with which to pick up those IOU's.
'Now then, you've admitted in writing that you saw Grieb after you went aboard the ship. You claim that you purchased the IOU's from him. You have those IOU's in your possession. You've allowed the newspapers to take photographs of them. And you returned from that gambling ship with the same amount of cash with which you boarded it-nine thousand five hundred dollars. Now then, according to your story, you must have been the last person to see Grieb alive! You received seven thousand five hundred dollars in IOU's from him and you didn't pay him any money.
'The question arises, how did you get them? The answer is you had a fight with Grieb, shot him through the head and took the IOU's. In case it's of any interest to you, Mr. Frank Oxman, your wife will go before the Federal Grand Jury, look at those IOU's and unhesitatingly and absolutely identify them as the original IOU's which she gave Sam Grieb. That'll cost her seventy-five hundred dollars in cash, but having you hung for murder will be worth it.'
Mason strode to the door and threw back the bolt. He turned on the threshold to look at Frank Oxman.
Oxman's face showed startled consternation. 'My God, Mason. You can't do that. Sylvia can't. You wouldn't…'
Mason stepped out into the hallway, pulled the door half shut behind him, grinned and said, 'And I don't think I want to play poker with you, Oxman. It wouldn't do me any good to win your clothes. They're too small for a real man to wear. Good day!'
Mason slammed the door, walked down the corridor to the stairway, descended two floors, and tapped on the door of Sylvia Oxman's room. He heard the rustle of motion on the other side of the door, but no sound of the door being opened.
'Okay, Sylvia,' Mason said in a low voice, 'open up.'
She opened the door and stared at him with anxious, apprehensive eyes.
'You can quit worrying about your husband,' Mason announced.
'Why, what did you do?'
'Put him on the defensive,' Mason told her grimly. 'My best guess is he'll take a run-out powder.'
'Tell me what you did.'
