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- I have this amazing idea, nothing novel, but take a book that's been written and rewrite it changing the genders of the characters, and see how ridiculous it is. The next Perry Mason book I read, I'll keep this in mind. Kerry Mason. Or Terry, or Sherry? Mary, maybe. Della Street will become, hmm, Fella Street, ha. Will have to work on that. I might as well accept the fact that I'm working from home and will be for a while. I can't keep on sitting at my tiny desk. Time to buy something I can stand at. Right, this is all I'm thinking about so might as well start. KERRY MASON—crack criminal lawyer, whose methods of solving cases might be termed "a little unorthodox" DEL STREET—Mason's Guy Friday—and all the other days of the week ROBERTA CADDO—publisher of "Lonely Hearts Are Calling"—self-styled psychologist who capitalizes on the diffidence of friendless people PAULA DRAKE—head of Drake Detective Agency—long-time, long-suffering friend of Kerry Mason MARTIN MARLOW—an heir with no flair for it—his ad in Caddo's magazine brings some startling results RUSS KEELING & EDGAR KEELING—the nurses who witnessed the signing of the late Georgina Endicott's will KENDRA BARSTOW—one of Drake's most attractive operatives—especially adept at portraying young women fresh from the farm DONALD CADDO—Roberta Caddo's outraged husband, who vents his wrath on the other men in his wife's life (etc. - the cast of characters is too long. Let's get on with it.) Kerry Mason extended her hand for the oblong business card which Del Street was carrying as he entered the lawyer's private office. "Who is it, Del?" "Roberta Caddo." Kerry Mason studied the card, then smiled. "Lonely Lovers Publications, Inc." she read. "And what seems to be Ms. Caddo's troubles, Del? He said laughingly, "They are what she described as 'complications' arising from an ad which she has been running." He handed Mason a copy of a cheaply printed magazine entitled Lonely Hearts Are Calling. "It looks like a cheap edition of a mail-order catalogue," Mason said. "That's what it is." Mason raised her eyebrows. "At any rate, that's almost what it is," Del qualified. "You see, there are stories in the front part, and then in the back there are classified ads, and there is a blank on the back inside cover that can be torn along the perforated lines and turned into a mailing envelope with a message folded on the inside." Mason nodded. "I gather from Ms. Caddo that all such messages received at the office, properly addressed, will be forwarded to the advertiser to whose box they are addressed." "Very interesting," Mason said. "For instance," Del went on, opening the magazine at random, "here's Box Number 256. Would you perhaps like to communicate with Box 256, Ms. Mason? All you have to do is to tear off the back cover, cut it along the perforated lines, write your message, then fold it, place a seal on it, and deliver it by any means you may select to the office of Lonely Lovers Publications, Inc." "Tell me more about Box 256," Mason grinned. "I think we're going to enjoy Ms. Caddo." Del Street read the classified ad: Refined man of forty, with rural background, wishes to contact woman who is fond of animals. Mason threw back her head and laughed. Then suddenly she quit laughing. "What's the matter, Chief?" "After all," Mason said, "it's ludicrous and yet it's tragic. An unmarried man of forty, with rural background, finds himself in the city with no friends. He probably has a cat or two. And he . . . What does Caddo look like?" "She's about thirty-eight, high cheekbones, big ears, large blue eyes, big Adam's apple, tall, has big feet, and sits rigidly erect in the chair. She won't lean back and relax. She makes me nervous just watching her." "And her trouble?" "She said she could only tell me that it was due to peculiar complications which she'd have to explain to you personally." "Let's have a look at her," Mason said. Del Street said, "Don't throw the magazine away. Big-hearted Gus at the switchboard is all worked up about it. He wants to write letters to all of them and cheer 'em up." Mason thumbed through the pages of the magazine, musing half to herself. "Looks like a racket," she muttered. "Take this first story—"A Kiss in the Dark," by Anna Ansell Ashland—"Never Too Late for Cupid," by Gail Cartright Dawson. . . . Let's have a look at our friend Caddo, Del. She may be someone we want to take apart.
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