Free Case of the Footloose Doll by Erle Stanley Gardner Page B

half—filled with water.
    “Only about half that water,” Harrod said.
    She dutifully went back to the kitchen, returned with the tumbler about a quarter full. She extended the bottle and the glass, but Harrod said, “Pour it and hold it to my lis.” Harrod drank the whisky and water.
    The woman wiped his lips. Harrod said, “It’s funny but I’ve been cold ever since I got home.”
    “Have you had a doctor?” Mason asked.

    “No.”
    “You’d better get one.”
    “I don’t want one.”
    “Why?”
    “Doctors ask too many questions.”
    “Did this ice pick go all the way in?” Mason asked.
    “Clean to the hilt,” Harrod said.
    “Then you’d better have a doctor.”
    “I told you I don’t want a doctor. Doctors go asking questions, and then they babble everything they know to the police.”
    “Well,” Mason said, “it sounds to me as though the police should be notified.”
    Harrod shifted his eyes, said, “That would be bad for your client.”
    “I’ll look out for the interests of my client,” Mason said sharply.
    “All right,” Harrod said, “it wouldn’t be good for me.”
    “Why not?”
    “I am not the most exemplary citizen in the world, Mason,” Harrod said. “I’m a—all right, I’m an opportunist.”
    “And a blackmailer?” Mason asked.
    “He didn’t say that,” Nellie flared at Mason.
    “I was trying to make it easier for him,” Mason said.
    “You don’t have to!” Nellie snapped. “He can talk for himself.” Harrod said, “Fern Driscoll has some letters. I don’t know how much you know about her history, but she was going with Forrester Baylor in Lansing, Michigan. Forrester is the only son of Harriman Baylor, a big manufacturer.
    “Fern Driscoll was working as his secretary. She and Forrester got playing around and then all of a sudden all hell broke loose. I think perhaps someone found out Harriman Baylor was about to become a grandfather under circumstances that didn’t appeal to the old bastard.”
    “Watch your language,” Nellie said sharply.
    Carl Harrod grinned, went on talking, “I started out trying to sharp-shoot. I’m an investigator for an insurance company. That’s the way I make my bread and butter. I’m also an undercover correspondent for a magazine entitled The Real Lowdown.
    “I wasn’t sure about my story until after I’d interviewed Fern Driscoll.
    Then I was certain I was on the right track. The trouble was the story is too big. The magazine has to have proof. I understand there are some letters written by Forrester. It’s also reported that Harriman Baylor gave her a big wad of dough to go bye-bye and have a baby very quietly, then release it for adoption to anyone that Harriman Baylor designated.
    “That’s the kind of a story that The Real Low—down would pay ten thousand smackeroos to get nailed down.
    “I have everything I need except the letters,” Harrod said. “That’s why I went to Fern Driscoll’s apartment.”
    “You’re telling me all this?” Mason asked.
    “I’m telling you all this,” Harrod said.
    “And that secretary of his is writing every word of it down,” Nellie snapped.
    “Let her,” Harrod said. “Mason has got to play ball with me in this thing.”
    “Go on,” Mason said.
    “I’d been there earlier and tried to be nice,” Harrod said. “Being nice didn’t get me anywhere so I went back to try it again. This time I wasn’t going to be so nice.”
    “Now, wait a minute,” Mason said. “You went there the first time. What happened?”
    “The door was opened by Katherine Baylor. I’d followed her to the place. You see, the Baylor family are out here quite often. Harriman Baylor has business interests in southern California. The family always stays at the Vista del Camino Hotel. I had a tip that Baylor himself had taken a tumble and was going to make a big try to get those letters.
    “I felt certain some member of the family would show up. I had an idea they’d located Fern