The Case of the Fabulous Fake

17

Ralph Gurlock Floyd arose with something of a flourish when the case of the People vs. Diana Douglas was called.

“I think, if the Court please, we can rest the prosecution’s case.”

“I certainly would think so,” Judge Elliott said. “In fact, I think this whole matter could have been disposed of yesterday afternoon. I take it there is no defense.”

“Indeed there is a defense,” Mason said.

“I want to repeat that this court is not interested in fishing expeditions, Mr. Mason. I am not going to preclude the defendant from putting on any legitimate defense, but it would seem virtually mathematical that there is no defense and can be no defense to the array of facts which have been marshaled this far by witnesses.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “I would like to recall one of the officers for just one or two questions on further cross-examination.”

“That’s irregular,” Floyd protested. “That motion should have been made earlier.”

“Oh, come, come,” Judge Elliott said, “one thing is certain. I’m not going to preclude this defendant from an opportunity to cross-examine any witness of the prosecution. I take it, Mr. Mason, there’s some particular significance in connection with this?”

“There is, Your Honor.”

“Recall the witness,” Judge Elliott said.

Mason motioned to the officer. “Take the stand,” he said. “Remember you’ve already been sworn. Now, you have the bag which has been identified as the cloth purse which the defendant had in her possession when the ticket seller at the airlines saw the gun in the purse, the same purse which the stewardess noticed on the airplane?”

“That’s right.”

“You have both the gun and the purse,” Mason said. “Now, have you tried putting the gun in the purse?”

The officer smiled patronizingly. “Of course we have. It fits so snugly that the cloth is stretched tight and the purse is bulged out of shape. That’s why it was so noticeable.”

“Please put the gun in the purse,” Mason said.

The clerk handed the two exhibits to the officer. He took the purse, opened it, inserted the muzzle of the gun, then gradually worked the gun into the purse, explaining as he did so, “You can see what a snug fit it is and how it is necessary to twist the cloth of the purse so it fits over the grip of the gun, which, of course,” he added with a quick look of triumph at the Deputy District Attorney, “explains why the defendant lost the credit card out of the purse when she was taking the gun out.”

“All right,” Mason said, “you have the gun in the purse now.”

“That’s right.”

“And you can close the purse?”

“Yes, you can barely close the purse, and,” the witness went on, “when you open the purse anyone who looks in it can see a part of the gun... the wooden butt of the weapon.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “Now, a gun has two outlines, the convex outline and a concave outline, does it not?”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” the officer said.

“Well,” Mason said, “a gun is made generally on a curve so that when you hold the butt of the gun in your hand in a shooting position the barrel of the gun is elevated so that you can aim down it.”

“Oh, certainly, that’s right.”

“And, by the same sign, when you turn the gun over, the position is reversed. That is what I would call the concave position.”

“All right,” the officer said.

“Now then,” Mason said, “you have put the gun in the purse in a concave position. Could you reverse that position and put it in a convex position?”

“Not and close the purse,” the officer said. “The fit is too snug. In fact, I don’t know if you could even get the gun in the purse in what you refer to as the convex position.”

“All right,” Mason said, “now, it’s taken you a little time to get the gun in the purse.”

“It’s a snug fit,” the officer admitted.

“Now, take it out,” Mason said. “Let’s see how fast you can take it out.”

“What do you mean, how fast I can take it out?”

Mason turned up his wrist and consulted the second hand of his wristwatch. “Let’s see exactly how long it takes you to take the gun out.”

“Oh, I see,” the officer said, “one of those tests, uh?”

He started pulling frantically at the gun in the purse, managed only to jam it tighter against the cloth. To get the gun out, it was necessary for him to take the top of the purse and start pulling the cloth back a fold at a time.

“Five seconds,” Mason said.

The officer fumbled frantically.

“Ten seconds,” Mason said. “Twelve seconds. Now you have the gun out. Now, it is in an upside-down position. If you wanted to shoot it you’d have to turn it around in your hand. Please do so.”

The officer shifted the gun rapidly in his hand.

“Now, that is a single-action gun,” Mason went on. “It can’t be cocked and discharged by simply pulling the trigger. You have to pull back the hammer. Do that.”

The officer did so.

Mason smiled. “Do you think you could beat that time?”

“Oh, sure, I could,” the officer said, “now that I know what you’re getting at I could beat it all to pieces.”

“All right,” Mason said, “put the gun back in the purse, close the purse; then get ready, pull the gun out of the purse, turn it to a firing position, cock the hammer of the gun, and pull the trigger. Start when I say ‘ready’, and we’ll time it until the trigger clicks.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see the object of this test, interesting as it may be,” Judge Elliott said.

“It is simply this, Your Honor,” Mason said. “Moray Cassel, the victim, was shot in the forehead by one bullet. Moray Cassel was wearing a revolver in a shoulder holster at the time of his death. I understand that he habitually carried this weapon with him.

“Is it reasonable to suppose that he stood there inactive while the defendant fumbled with her purse and—”

“I see, I see,” Judge Elliott said. “Go ahead with the test.”

Ralph Gurlock Floyd was on his feet. “We object, Your Honor. It’s not a fair test. It is not conducted in accordance with conditions as they existed at the time of the crime. How do we know that the defendant had the gun in what Mr. Mason calls a concave position in her purse when she entered Cassel’s apartment. She might have stood outside of the door and done all of the fumbling before Cassel opened the door.

“In that event she would have had the gun in her hand, ready to fire.”

“Nevertheless,” Judge Elliott said, frowning thoughtfully, “it’s an interesting hypothesis and the Court is not going to preclude the defendant the opportunity to advance it. Go ahead, let’s make the test and take the time.”

This time the officer, knowing what was required and working frantically, was able to cut the time down to approximately seven seconds.

Judge Elliott, who had been watching the performance, said, “The Court gets it at about six seconds.”

“Between six and seven seconds,” Mason said, “to the time of the click. However, that’s good enough.”

“Your Honor,” Floyd protested, “this is absolutely meaningless. The defendant could have had the gun out of the purse, cocked and ready to shoot before pressing the buzzer so that Moray Cassel would have opened the door to find himself helpless.”

“And what happened then?” Mason asked Floyd.

“Don’t try to cross-examine me,” Floyd snapped.

Mason said with a smile, “I will address my remarks to the Court. The idea of having the defendant ring the buzzer with a gun, loaded and cocked and ready to shoot, would necessitate that the decedent be shot while he was at the door. In place of that the decedent was shot at the far end of the apartment, either while he was standing by the bed or sitting on the bed, and he was shot from some distance since there is no powder tattoo around the edges of the wound.”

“We’ll argue the case at the proper time,” Judge Elliott said. “You have made your point, Mr. Mason.”

Floyd said. “The defendant could have had the drop on him and forced him back a step at a time.”

“For what purpose?” Mason asked.

“In order to intimidate him,” Floyd said. “Who else would have had her brother’s gun and— Oh, this is absurd, too absurd to even waste time on.”

“Then why are you wasting it?” Mason asked.

“Don’t try to question me,” Floyd shouted irritably.

“I beg the Court’s pardon,” Mason said. “I was merely retorting to a retort.”

Judge Elliott smiled. “Proceed with your case, Mr. Mason. Do you have any questions of this witness on further cross-examination?”

“I have one or two more questions of this witness, if the Court please,” Mason said.

He turned to the officer. “You made a careful examination of the apartment?”

“I did. Several of us did.”

“And you noticed the wardrobe of the decedent?”

The officer smiled. “I certainly did.”

“It was rather elaborate?”

“That’s an understatement. It was very elaborate.”

“And did you notice that the clothes were tailor-made?”

“The outer garments, yes sir. The under garments were also, I think, custom-made, at least they were initialed.”

“And in that collection of outer garments would you say that all of them were tailor-made?”

“Yes, sir, all of them.”

“All of them?”

“All— Now, wait a minute. There was one overcoat in there that didn’t have a tailor’s label.”

“And did you notice that overcoat, try it for size to see whether or not it would have fit the decedent?”

“Well,” the officer said, “we didn’t try it on the decedent, if that’s what you mean.”

“How long,” Mason asked, “would it take to have this coat brought into court?”

“Oh, Your Honor,” Ralph Floyd said in the tone of voice of one whose patience has been taxed to the limit, “this is absurd, this approaches the ridiculous. I don’t know where this coat is. I suppose it’s somewhere in the coroner’s office... The Court has said that it wouldn’t encourage fishing expeditions and if this isn’t a fishing expedition I don’t know one when I see it.”

Judge Elliott started to nod his head, then frowned thoughtfully and glanced at Mason. “Do you care to make a statement, Mr. Mason?”

“I care to make a statement,” Mason said. “I would like to have that coat brought into court. I think it is a vital clue in this case. I have one more question to ask of this witness and then I am finished with my cross-examination. I will start to put on the defendant’s case. The first witness will be Stella Grimes, a private detective. Before her testimony is finished, I think that coat should be in court. I also have subpoenaed the tailor who made all of Moray Cassel’s clothes, who will testify that this overcoat was not made by him and would not have fit Moray Cassel.”

“Go ahead, finish your cross-examination of this witness,” Judge Elliott said, “and the Court will direct the prosecution to take steps to have the coat in question brought into court... If this is a fishing expedition it is certainly using most unusual bait.

“Go ahead, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “You were present in the laboratory when the gun which was recovered from the airplane was tested and examined?”

“Yes.”

“For fingerprints?”

“Yes.”

“Were there any fingerprints you could find?”

“Nothing that was identifiable. You must understand, Mr. Mason, that regardless of popular fiction stories, the finding of a fingerprint upon a gun — that is, an identifiable latent fingerprint — is not only the exception but it only happens once in a very great number of cases.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “Now, there are other tests to which the gun was subjected.”

“You mean the ballistic tests?”

“No, I meant tests for blood.”

The witness hesitated, then said, “Yes, there were tests for blood. There are very sensitive tests which show up blood even when the blood can’t be classified.”

“The benzidine test?” Mason asked.

“That is one.”

“Was a benzidine test performed upon this gun?”

“It was.”

“With what result?”

The witness hesitated, then chose his words carefully. “There were widespread reactions. Evidently the gun had been exposed to blood over almost its entire surface. More probably it had been exposed to a concentration of blood and then someone had attempted to wash that blood off very hastily with water or with a damp rag.”

“That concludes my cross-examination,” Mason said.

“Any redirect?” Judge Elliott asked Ralph Floyd.

“Certainly not,” Ralph Floyd said. “We consider these so-called points completely extraneous.”

“Now, you have a case to put on for the defense, Mr. Mason?”

“Yes, I will call my first witness, Miss Stella Grimes.”

Stella Grimes came forward, gave her name, age, occupation, and residence.

“When did you first see the defendant in this case?” Mason asked.

“It was at night. Mr. Drake and I were in a taxicab. We both wore dark glasses. Mr. Drake had put an ad in the paper suggesting that the person who had money to pay could make the payment to a person in a taxicab at a certain place.”

“Did you talk to the defendant at that time?”

“No, she walked past two or three times, but gave no sign of recognition, no indication that she wished to convey any message.”

“When did you next see her?”

“The following day.”

“Where?”

“At the Willatson Hotel.”

“What room?”

“Room Seven-sixty-seven.”

“And what happened while you were there?”

“I was instructed to take over as the occupant of that room.”

“And the real occupant of that room was the defendant?”

“That’s right.”

“And what was done with her?”

“You had rented another room down the hall. You took the defendant down to that room.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then there was a knock at the door and the decedent paid us a visit.”

“By the decedent, you mean Moray Cassel?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what was the conversation?”

“It was very apparent that he was expecting a payment of money, that he expected this from a man, that when he saw that two people were in the room he became suspicious and thought perhaps a trap was being laid for him.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I followed a code signal from you, Mr. Mason. I pretended that I was simply a girl friend who was paying you a visit for purposes of affection. I gave you a casual kiss, departed, but, in accordance with your code signal, I rented a taxicab, watched the exit of the hotel so that I could follow Mr. Cassel when he left, and did so follow him to the Tallmeyer Apartments.

“I then reported to you, giving you the license number of the Cadillac owned by the decedent and the address to which he had driven.”

“And then?” Mason asked.

“Then I returned, and continued to occupy the room, waiting for someone to get in touch with me seeking a blackmail payment.”

“When the defendant was in the room did you see her purse?”

“I did.”

“The purse which has been introduced in evidence and which I now hand you?”

“It was either this purse or a similar one.”

Mason said, “I now put the gun which is supposed to have fired the fatal bullet into this purse and ask you if, in your opinion, that gun could have been in that purse at the time that the defendant left the room.”

“It definitely could not have been in the purse, not that gun. I would have noticed the manner in which the purse was bulged out of shape.”

“Cross-examine,” Mason said to Ralph Floyd.

Floyd said, “The defendant could have had the gun someplace else, in her suitcase or concealed somewhere on her person and put it in her purse at a later date.”

“Mr. Mason took her suitcase,” Stella Grimes said, “to smuggle it out of the hotel. She was to take with her nothing but her purse and a black sort of overnight bag.”

“And that gun could have been in the overnight bag?”

“It could not.”

“Why not?”

“Because that bag was full of money with which to pay a blackmailer.”

“How much money?”

“I didn’t count it,” she said, “but it was full of money. I saw that much.”

Floyd hesitated a moment, then said, “I guess that’s all.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “I notice that an officer has handed the bailiff an overcoat. I believe this is the overcoat that was taken from Mr. Cassel’s closet, the one which didn’t fit him?”

“I don’t know that it didn’t fit him,” Floyd snapped.

“We’ll very soon find that out,” Mason said. “Mr. Ballard, will you come forward and be sworn, please.”

Ballard, a very short, thick-set individual in his early forties, came to the witness stand, moving with surprising swiftness and agility for one of his build.

He gave his name, address, occupation, age, and then turned to face Mr. Mason.

“You knew Moray Cassel in his lifetime?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How long had you known him?”

“About seven years.”

“What is your occupation?”

“I am a custom tailor.”

“Did you make clothes for Mr. Cassel?”

“I did.”

“How many clothes did you make?”

“Heavens, I don’t know. He seldom kept a suit over six months, and I know that he had a very extensive wardrobe. I made literally dozens of suits for him.”

“And you kept his measurements on file?”

“Certainly. I didn’t want to have to measure him every time he came in. He would pick out the material, tell me what he wanted, and I would have the clothes ready for the first fitting within a few days.”

“I show you an overcoat which I will mark for purposes of identification as Defendant’s Exhibit Number One and ask you if you made that overcoat.”

The witness fingered the overcoat. “I certainly did not.”

“I ask you if that overcoat could have been worn by Moray Cassel.”

The witness pulled a tape measure from his pocket, made a few swift measurements, then shook his head. “Moray Cassel would have been lost in that overcoat,” he said.

“Cross-examine,” Mason said.

“I certainly have no questions about this overcoat of this witness,” Floyd said.

Mason said, “In view of the fact that this overcoat which has been marked for identification as Defendant’s Exhibit Number One is one that was produced by the prosecution as having been found in the closet in Moray Cassel’s apartment, I now ask that this be introduced in evidence as Defendant’s Exhibit Number One.”

“Objected to as wholly incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” Floyd said.

“I would be inclined to think so,” Judge Elliott said, “unless counsel believes it can be connected up. The Court would be glad to hear your theory of the case, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Before I give my theory of the case, I would like to have this overcoat tried on by someone who will fill it out. I have two witnesses here in court whom I expect to use. I think they will be willing to volunteer. Mr. Franklin Gage, will you step forward, please, and try on this overcoat?”

Franklin Gage hesitated, then got to his feet, came forward, took the overcoat, looked at it, and put it on. It instantly became apparent that the sleeves were too short and the overcoat too full.

“That won’t do,” Mason said. “Mr. Homer Gage, will you step forward please and put on the coat?”

“I see no reason to do so,” Homer Gage said.

Mason looked at him in some surprise. “Is there any reason why you don’t want to?”

Homer Gage hesitated for a moment, then said, “All right. It looks like it’s about my size, but I’ve never seen it before.”

He stepped forward and put on the overcoat. It instantly became apparent that the coat was a perfect fit.

“Now, then, Your Honor,” Mason said, “I will give the Court my theory about the overcoat... Thank you very much, Mr. Gage. You may take the coat off.”

Homer Gage squirmed out of the overcoat as though he had been scalded.

Mason folded the overcoat and put it over his right arm.

“Now then, Your Honor,” he said, “if a person approaches a man who is armed and dangerous and wants to be absolutely certain that he gets the drop on him, he must necessarily have a gun in his hand, cocked and ready to fire.

“The best way to do this without being detected is to have a folded overcoat over the right hand, which can hold the gun under the folds of the overcoat... If you’ll hand me the gun which is the exhibit in the case, Mr. Bailiff... thank you. I will illustrate to the Court how it can be done.”

Mason folded the coat, placed it over his right arm, and held his hand with the gun in it just under the folded overcoat.

“Now then, if the Court please, I will make my opening statement. It is my belief that a young woman who was a friend of a girl who worked with Moray Cassel got into that condition which is generally known as being ‘in trouble.’ I believe that an executive for the Excobar Import and Export Company was responsible for that condition. I will refer to this man as Mr. X.

“Moray Cassel was a very shrewd, adroit blackmailer. He found out about what was happening and what company the man worked in. He wasn’t too certain of some of the facts, but he saw an opportunity to make a few easy dollars. I believe the young woman had no part in the blackmail scheme.

“She had gone to some other state to have her baby. But one of Cassel’s scouts learned of the facts in the case and probably knew that the young woman used a code in communicating with her lover. Mail was probably addressed simply to thirty-six-twenty-four-thirty-six, Excobar Import and Export Company, and signed the same way — and these may well have been the measurements of the young woman in the case.

“So Moray Cassel took a chance on making some quick and easy money. He wrote a letter to the Escobar Import and Export Company and probably said something to the effect that if thirty-six-twenty-four-thirty-six wanted to escape a paternity suit it was incumbent to have five thousand dollars in spot cash. He probably said he was related to the young woman.

“Mr. X was married. He couldn’t afford to have the true situation come out. His marriage was not a happy one and he knew that his wife would sue for divorce and for large alimony if she could find some good legitimate reason to prove infidelity.

“So Mr. X went to Edgar Douglas and persuaded him for a financial consideration to pretend to be the man responsible for the woman’s condition, to go to Los Angeles and make the payment to Moray Cassel. He furnished Edgar Douglas with five thousand dollars in cash with which to make that payment.

“It happened, however, that when Edgar Douglas was getting his car filled with gas, preparatory to his trip to Los Angeles, he became involved in an automobile accident which rendered him unconscious and he remained unconscious until the time of his death.

“Mr. X, knowing that Moray Cassel was getting impatient, didn’t dare to try to find another stooge. He took five thousand dollars in cash, but he also took a gun, which as it happened, although he probably didn’t know it at the time, was a gun belonging to Edgar Douglas. He went to Los Angeles feeling that he would make a payoff if he could be absolutely certain that there would only be one pay-off. If he couldn’t be certain there would only be one pay-off, he intended to kill the blackmailer.

“He went to Moray Cassel’s apartment. They had a conversation. Mr. X was a man of the world. He knew a blackmailer when he saw him, and Moray Cassel was a shrewd blackmailer who knew a victim who would be good for any number of payments when he encountered him.

“Very calmly, very deliberately, Mr. X killed Moray Cassel, left the gun on the floor in a pool of blood, and returned to San Francisco.

“The defendant entered the apartment some time later, found a gun which she recognized as her brother’s gun on the floor in a pool of blood. She hastily washed off the blood, wiped the gun with a damp rag, put it in her purse, and returned to San Francisco.”

Judge Elliott leaned forward. “How did this Mr. X get hold of the gun that belonged to Edgar Douglas?” he asked.

Mason looked at Joyce Baffin and said rather kindly, “Edgar Douglas was a nut on guns and on the protection of his women. He wanted any woman in whom he was interested to know how to shoot and loaned one young woman his gun for target practice. I think that Mr. X probably had some influence over the woman to whom Edgar Douglas had last loaned his gun. He may have seen it in her apartment... Do you care to make any statement, Miss Baffin?”

Homer Gage got up and said, “I guess everybody’s done with me,” and started hurrying out of the courtroom.

Judge Elliott took one look at the white-faced Joyce Baffin, at Homer Gage, and said to the bailiff, “Stop that man! Don’t let him out of the door. This Court is going to take a half-hour recess and the Court suggests that the Deputy District Attorney in charge of this case use that half hour to advantage — bearing in mind, of course, that the parties are to be advised of their constitutional rights in accordance with the recent decisions of the United States Supreme Court.

“Court will recess for thirty minutes.”