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for him to lie."
    "Such as what?"
    "Such as where he's been living; whether he's ever used any other names; whether he has any other bank accounts under different names; whether he has any safety – deposit boxes; things of that sort.
    "Moreover, it seems Carson has a girl friend who's a hostess at one of the night spots in Las Vegas. Her name is Genevieve Honcutt Hyde, and Carson has been seeing a lot of her. He's used this Las Vegas background to support his claim that he's been losing heavily at the tables.
    "Judge Goodwin, however, feels Carson has been getting his assets in the form of cash and concealing them somewhere. We have to find out."
    "That stuff's virtually impossible to get at," Drake said.
    "You've had a hard night?" Mason asked.
    "I've had a hard night and a hard morning," Drake agreed, smiling ruefully. "I got to bed about three o'clock. It certainly seemed that the sun moved around mighty fast; but even if I did have a hard night, that Las Vegas stuff is hard enough to get to justify my pessimism. Okay, Perry, I'll see what I can do. Where can I find this Carson, do you know?"
    Before Mason could answer the question the telephone bell on Della Street's desk jangled. She picked up the phone, said, "Yes, Gertie… What?… Who?… You mean Loring Carson?… Just a minute, Gertie."
    Della Street put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and said, "Mr. Loring Carson is in the office and wants to see you at once upon a matter of the greatest importance."
    Mason grinned. "Speaking of angels," he said, "we hear the flutter of their wings. Just stand in the doorway, Paul, and be taking leave as Carson comes in. That will give you a chance to see him. After that you'll be able to recognize him."
    "That," Drake said, "will also give him a chance to see me. If you don't mind, Perry, I'll case him from the hall when he leaves. Just be sure that he goes out this door and when he leaves be sure to say, 'Well, good day, Mr. Carson,' or 'I'm afraid that's all I can do for you, Mr. Carson,' or something of the sort. Mention his name."
    Mason nodded, said to Della Street, "Go out and escort Mr. Carbon into the office, will you please, Della?"
    Paul Drake slipped silently through the exit door to the corridor.
    Della returned after a moment, holding the door open to admit a chunky man with an aggressive personality who came barging forward with hand outstretched.
    "Mr. Mason!" he said.
    Mason bowed and after a moment accepted the outstretched hand.
    "I'm Loring Carson. My ears have been burning a bit. Guess you think I'm pretty much of a heel, eh?"
    "I don't know that my personal opinion has anything to do with it, Mr. Carson. I think I should tell you that I am representing interests that are adverse to yours, and those interests will take such steps as are deemed necessary by me in order to protect themselves."
    Carson laughed. "That's certainly a diplomatic way of putting it, Mr. Mason. Suppose you and I have a little talk and at the end of that time perhaps you won't feel like taking this action you're talking about."
    "I don't think I should talk with you," Mason said. "You are an adverse party and if you don't have an attorney representing you at the present time it's going to be necessary for you to get one. I'm willing to talk with your attorney, but not with you."
    "Oh, phooey with all that professional ethics business," Carson said. "I'm the captain of the ship. If I get an attorney he'll do what I tell him to."
    "I still don't want to talk with you," Mason said.
    "You aren't going to try to throw me out, are you?"
    "I might," Mason said.
    "Well, unless you do throw me out I'm going to talk with you. As a matter of fact I haven't any attorney. My attorney quit me in a huff. Said that I'd misled him and got him into an impossible position."
    "I see," Mason said noncommittally.
    "As a matter of fact it wasn't anything of the sort," Carson went on. "The whole trouble was with that stupid private detective I hired.