The Case of the Caretaker's Cat Read Online Free PDF Page B

bright lights, and dissipation. The old man didn't like it. Oafley is a secretive, non-social duck. The old man didn't care much for him. He's too damned negative."
    The young woman behind the counter turned the bacon, flashed them a swift glance.
    "It takes a lot to bust a will, doesn't it?" Drake persisted.
    "An awful lot," Mason admitted wearily, "if you try to break it on the ground of undue influence, or unsoundness of mind. But I'm telling you, Paul, I'm going to break that will."
    A plate banged down on the counter explosively. Mason raised perplexed eyes to encounter a flushed countenance, straight determined lips, blazing black eyes. "Say," the girl said, "what kind of a game is this? I'm making my own way without asking odds of anyone, and you came…"
    Paul Drake waved a hand with the studied nonchalance of one who is creating a sensation, but wishes to make it appear it is all in the day's work.
    "Perry," he said, "meet Winifred."
    Mason's face showed such unmistakably genuine surprise that the indignation faded from Winifred Laxter's eyes. "Didn't you know?" she asked.
    Mason shook his head.
    She pointed to the sign on the outside of the place. "You should have known from the sign 'WINNIE'S WAFFLES.'"
    "I didn't read the sign," Mason said. "My friend brought me in here. What was the idea, Paul, trying to make a grandstand, or pull a rabbit from the hat, or something?"
    Drake, caressing his coffee cup with the tips of his fingers, gave a slow smile. "I wanted you two to get acquainted. I wanted my friend here to see how you ran the place, Miss Laxter. Most people would think an heiress couldn't turn to running a waffle kitchen."
    "I'm not an heiress."
    "Don't be too sure," Drake told her. "This is Perry Mason, the lawyer."
    "Perry Mason," she repeated slowly.
    Her eyes widened slightly.
    "Heard of him?" Drake asked.
    "Who hasn't?" she said, and colored.
    "I wanted to ask you some questions about your grandfather," Mason said. "I employed Mr. Drake to locate you."
    She opened the waffle iron, took out two crisply brown waffles. Moving with swift efficiency, she poured melted butter on the waffles, set out a pitcher of syrup, handed each a waffle and strips of golden-brown bacon on a side dish.
    "A little more coffee?" she asked.
    "No, this will be fine," Mason assured her.
    He put syrup on the waffle, cut into it, and his face showed surprise as he conveyed a piece to his mouth.
    Paul Drake, at his side, chuckled and said, "I don't know what the case is worth to you, Perry, but these waffles are a pretty good fee in themselves."
    "Where did you learn how to make these waffles?" the lawyer wanted to know.
    "I studied cooking, and Grandpa used to like these waffles. When I found myself out on my own, I figured it would be a good plan to make waffles. Things are rather quiet now, but an hour ago there was a rush, and after the theater, there'll be another big rush. Then, of course, there's a big trade in the morning."
    "Who handles the morning trade?" Mason asked.
    "I do."
    "And the after-theater trade?"
    She nodded. "I'm working for myself, not employing anyone, so there's no law to keep me from working as long as I want to."
    Drake nudged Mason's leg under the table and said, out of the side of his mouth, "Get a load of the bird looking in the window."
    Mason raised his eyes.
    Nat Shuster, his lips twisted back from his separated teeth, was jerking his head up and down in an effusive salutation. As soon as he realized Mason had seen him, he walked on past the window.
    Mason saw the puzzled expression on Winifred Laxter's face.
    "Know him?" he asked.
    "Yes. He's a customer. Been eating here for two or three days now. He had me sign a paper tonight."
    Mason slowly placed his knife and fork by the side of his plate. "Oh," he said, "he had you sign a paper, did he?"
    "Yes. He said he was a friend and that he knew I'd want to help carry out Grandfather's intentions; that even if I hadn't been remembered in the will, he