The Case of the Caretaker's Cat (Perry Mason Series)
Erle Stanley Gardner
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When the cat’s away the murderer will play.…
In his will, Peter Laxter guaranteed his faithful caretaker a job and a place to live…for life. But Laxter’s grandson Sam says the deal doesn’t include the caretaker’s cat―and he wants the feline off the premises by hook, crook…or poison. When Perry Mason takes the case, he quickly finds there’s much more at stake than an old man’s cat―a million dollars or more to be exact.…
we," grinned the man with the booming voice. "It would be like manna from heaven. Sorry we kept you awake. Didn't know you could hear us." "That's all right. I'd rather play poker than sleep, anyway. Mason is my name." "Hammond's mine," said the man who had admitted him. The others introduced themselves. Mason drew up a chair, took chips, and heard men walking down the corridor toward Edith DeVoe's apartment. Some fifteen minutes later, when he was twelve dollars and thirty cents ahead of the
easy," Mason said casually. "Nothing to it," Drake agreed optimistically. "They're made to open with a pass-key. Almost anything will work them. Anyone coming?" "No one in sight." "Okay, hold your coat so it conceals the beam of this flashlight." Drake played the beam of a small flashlight on the door, produced keys from his pocket. A moment later the lock clicked back, and the men entered the apartment house. "What floor?" Drake asked. "The third." "What's the apartment?" "308."
him where he was going. Keene said he was going to see Miss DeVoe; that she had sent for him. "Later on the district attorney went to question her. She was lying on the floor unconscious. She'd been literally clubbed to death. We went to Douglas Keene's room. We found that garments he had worn were bloodstained. There was blood on his shirt, on his collar, on his shoes, on his trousers. He had tried to wash out the bloodstains and failed. He'd tried to burn up some of his clothes and had even
good-naturedly, "Baloney! Take your cat and go on back to your waffle parlor. Is Douglas Keene going to get in touch with me and give himself up?" "I don't know," she said with tears in her eyes. The cat, arching its back, started exploring the office. "Kitty – kitty, come, kitty," Winifred pleaded. The cat paid no attention to her. Mason's eyes were sympathetic as he stared at the tear-stricken countenance. "If Douglas gets in touch with you," he said, "tell him how important it is that he
grinning. There was a knock on the door. Mason crossed to the door and opened it. A bellboy handed him the folded telegram and said, "You had some baggage?" Mason indicated his bags. The boy picked them up. Mason and Della Street followed him to the lobby. Della Street managed to convey the impression of a young woman who has been crying, who is very much hurt, somewhat angry, and defies the public to do its damnedest in the line of speculating. She glanced with haughty defiance at the clerk.