George Wallman sat in the creaking rocking chair in the hotel bedroom. Seated on the floor by his side, her cheeks glistening with tears of happiness, Helen Monteith clasped her arms around his knees. Perry Mason was seated astride a straight-backed, cane-bottomed chair, his elbows resting on the back; Della Street was perched on the foot of the bed.
George Wallman said in a slow drawl, “Yes, I changed my name after Fremont made such a pile of money. People were always getting us mixed up because I looked like him, and word got around that I had a brother who was a multimillionaire. I didn’t like it. You see we aren’t twins, but, as we got older, there was a striking family resemblance. People were always getting us mixed up.
“Wallman was my mother’s maiden name. Fremont’s son was named Charles Wallman Sabin, and my middle name was George, so I took the name of George Wallman.
“For quite a while Fremont thought I was crazy, and then, after he’d visited me back in Kansas, we had an opportunity for a real good talk. I guess then was when Fremont first commenced to see the light. Anyway, he suddenly realized that it was foolish to set up money as the goal of achievement in life. He’d had all he wanted years ago. If he’d lived to be a thousand he could still have eaten three meals a day.
“Well,” Wallman went on, after a moment, “I guess I was a little bit foolish the other way, too, because I never paid enough attention to putting aside something that would carry me through a rainy day... Anyway, after Fremont had that first visit with me, we became rather close, and when I came out here to the West, Fremont used to come and see me once in a while. Sometimes we’d go live together in a trailer; sometimes we’d stay up in his cabin. Fremont told me that he was keeping the association secret from his business associates, however, because they’d think perhaps he was a little bit cracked, if they found out about me and my philosophy of life.
“Well, that suited me all right. And then, shortly after I was married, Fremont came down to San Molinas to talk with me.”
“He knew about your marriage?” Mason interrupted.
“Of course. He gave me the keys to the cabin and told me to go up there for my honeymoon. He said I could use it whenever I wanted to.”
“I see,” Mason said, “pardon the interruption. Go ahead.”
“Well, Fremont showed up with this parrot. He’d been up to the house and picked him up, and the parrot kept saying, ‘Drop that gun, Helen... don’t shoot... My God, you’ve shot me.’ Well, that didn’t sound good to me. I’m something of an expert on parrots. I gave Casanova to Fremont and I knew Casanova wouldn’t say anything unless someone had been to some trouble to repeat it many times in his presence — parrots vary, you know, and I knew Casanova. So I suggested to Fremont that he was in danger. Fremont didn’t feel that way about it, but after a while I convinced him. I wanted to study the parrot, trying to get a clue to the person who had been teaching him. So I got Fremont to buy another parrot and...”
“Then it was Fremont who bought the parrot?” Mason asked.
“Sure, that was Fremont.”
“Go ahead,” Mason said.
“Well, Fremont bought the parrot, so that no one would suspect I was studying Casanova, and I wanted a gun to give him, so I got Helen to get me a gun and some shells, and I gave that to Fremont. Then, he went on up to the cabin, and I came here to Santa Delbarra to look things over and find out about getting a place for a grocery store. I didn’t read the papers, because I never bother with ’em. I read some of the monthly magazines, and quite a few biographies, and scientific books, and spend a good deal of time around the libraries.”
“Well,” Mason said, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to readjust your philosophies of life. Under your brother’s will, you’ve inherited quite a chunk of money.”
George Wallman meditated for a while, then looked down at his wife. He patted her shoulder comfortingly, and said, “How about it, Babe, should we take enough of it to open up a little grocery store, or shall we tell ’em we don’t want any?”
She laughed happily. When she tried to speak, there was a catch in her throat. “You do whatever you want to, dearest,” she said. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”
Mason got up, nodded to Della Street.
“You going?” Wallman asked.
Mason said, “I’ve done everything I can here.”
Wallman got up from the chair, bent over to kiss his wife, then came over to grip Mason’s hand. “I guess,” he said, “from all I hear, you did a pretty good job, Mr. Mason.”
“I hope I did,” Mason told him. “and I don’t mind telling you, I never had a more satisfactory case, or a more satisfactory client. Come on, Della.”
They walked down the creaking staircase to the street. As Mason climbed in his car Della Street said, “Chief, I’m so happy, I’m b-b-bawling.”
Mason said thoughtfully, “He does leave a clean taste in your mouth, doesn’t he, Della?”
She nodded. “It must be wonderful to have happiness like that, Chief.”
They drove through the moonlight, along the ribbon of road, lined with palm trees on either side. They were silent, wrapped in thought, bathed in that perfect understanding which comes to people who have no need for words.
At length Mason turned on the car radio. “Della,” he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to find a nice waltz program somewhere... or perhaps the tinkle of some Hawaiian music, with...”
The radio screamed into violent sound in the midst of a news report. Mason heard the tail end of an announcement concerning himself, as the announcer said, “... Perry Mason, the noted trial attorney.” There was a short pause, then the flash news reports continued, “Sheriff Barnes said merely that he had been covering dozens of places, that finding Richard Waid up at the mountain cabin which he had used as headquarters when listening in on Sabin’s telephone was partly routine, partly luck. Sergeant Holcomb, of the Metropolitan police, gave a long interview to newspaper reporters. ‘I knew Waid would head for that cabin,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell you all the evidence which pointed to that conclusion, but there was enough to send me up there. Waid put up a terrific fight, but he was taken alive.’ ”
Mason switched the radio into silence. “We’ve had enough of police and murders and evidence for a while, Della. I can’t get Wallman and his philosophy out of my mind... I should have suspected the truth long before I did. The evidence was all there. I just didn’t see it... That’s quite an idea, to go through life doing your best work and letting the man-made tokens of payment take care of themselves, Della.”
“Yes,” she said, then added after a moment, “Well, that’s about what you do, anyway, Chief.” She slid down on the seat so the cushion was against her neck. The reflected moonlight bathed her features with soft illumination. “Lord, think of the people who live to bless you!”
He laughed. “Let’s think of moonlight instead, Della.”
Her hand slid over to the steering wheel, rested on his for a moment. “Let’s,” she said.