CHAPTER ONE

Perry Mason, tilted back in his walnut desk chair, was studying a
recent decision of the state supreme court when Della Street, his
secretary, opened the door from the outer office, advanced to
the desk and quietly laid ten crisp one - hundred - dollar bills on
the blotter.

Mason, too engrossed to notice what she was doing, continued his
reading.

Della Street said, 'A client sends his card.'

Mason straightened in the swivel chair and for the first time
caught sight of the money which Della Street had so neatly
spread out.
'He said his name was Mr. Cash,' Della Street explained. 'Then he
handed me ten one - hundred - dollar bills and said these were his
cards.'

Mason grinned. 'So the black market begins to turn yellow. What
does Mr. Cash look like?'

'He's a floor walker.'

Mason raised his eyebrows, glanced at the cash. 'floorwalker?'

'No, no, not a department store floorwalker! I mean that he's a
floor walker, the same as you are. He paces the floor when he's
worried. He's doing a carpet marathon out there right now.'

Mason said, 'I don't know whether civilization is breaking down
the character of our criminals or whether the black market
operators haven't been in business long enough to develop
intestinal stamina. The bootleggers were a tougher breed. My own
opinion is that these black market operators simply haven't had
time to become accustomed to the fact that they're on the other
side of society's legal fence. Give them another eighteen months
and they'll be as tough as the old gangsters.'

'He definitely isn't a black market operator,' Della Street said
positively. 'He's distinguished - looking, has a slight limp, is deeply
tanned and .. and I've seen him somewhere before. Oh, now I have
it. I've seen his picture!'

'Give.'

'Major Claude L. Winnett, polo player, yachtsman, millionaire
playboy. When the war came, he quit being a playboy and became an aviator, bagged a whole flock of German planes and then was
captured, liberated last fall, discharged because of his wound,
returned to his doting mother and...'

Mason nodded. 'I remember reading about the chap. He got a
citation or something. Didn't he get married?'

'About four or five weeks ago,' Della Street said. 'That was where
I first saw his picture - in the paper. Then again last week a
reporter for the society supplement paid a visit to the Winnett
home - one of the old - time country estates with stables of polo
ponies, riding trails, hedges, private golf courses...'

'Show him in,' Mason said. 'But let him know first that you've
placed him. It may save time.'

Major Winnett, lean, fit, bronzed, and nervous, followed Della
Street into the office. The excitement and anxiety of his manner
were more noticeable than his slight limp. A well - modulated
voice and patrician bearing made his surrender to emotion all the
more impressive.

'Mr Mason,' he said as soon as he was in the room, 'I had intended
to keep my identity a secret and ask you to represent another
person. Now that your secretary has recognized me, I'll put my
cards on the table. My wife has disappeared. She needs your help.
She's in trouble of some sort.'

'Tell me about it,' Mason said. Major Winnett reached into his
inside pocket, took out a folded piece of letter paper and handed
it to Mason. The lawyer opened the letter and read:
Claude, my darling, there are some things that I can't drag you
into. I thought I had a way out, but I guess I didn't. Our
happiness was such a beautiful thing. But beautiful things are
always fragile. Don't worry about anything. I am responsible, and I
am not going to let you suffer because of what you have done for
me. Good - by, my darling. - MARCIA

'What does she mean by saying she's responsible and not letting
you suffer because of what you have done for her?' Mason asked.

Major Winnett's manner was uneasy. 'My marriage was not exactly
in accordance with the wishes of my mother. I went ahead with it
despite her objections.'

'Spoken objections?'

'Certainly not.'

'Yet your wife knew of them?'

'Women feel many things without the necessity of words, Mr.
Mason. I want you to find her and straighten things out for her.'

'And then report to you?'

'Certainly.'

Mason shook his head.

For a moment there was silence, broken only by the faint rumble