The Case of the Lazy Lover

18

D. T. Danvers, known to his intimates as “D. Tail” Danvers because of his passionate devotion to every small detail in a case, had been assigned by the District Attorney to the preliminary hearing of the People vs. Lola Faxon Allred.

Danvers, a chunky, thick-necked individual, aggressively determined to have his own way in a courtroom but personally friendly with the men who opposed him, paused by Mason’s chair to shake hands before court opened.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose this is going to be the same old runaround. You’ll be sitting there making objections, trying to get us to put on just as much of our case as possible so you can stand off and snipe at it, and then when it comes your turn, you’ll fold up like a camp tent with a broken guy wire and say, ‘Your Honor, I believe the State has established a sufficient case to warrant the Court in binding the defendant over, and under those circumstances I see no use in presenting any of our defense at this time.’ ”

Mason laughed, “What’s the matter, Danvers? Were you out on a camping trip where the tent folded up?”

Judge Colton ascended the bench, said, “People versus Lola Allred. What’s the situation, gentlemen?”

“The defendant is in court, defended by counsel,” Danvers said, “and the prosecution is ready to go ahead.”

“The defense is ready,” Mason announced.

“Call your first witness,” Judge Colton said.

Danvers’ first witness was the doctor who had performed the autopsy on the body of Bertrand Allred. He described the man’s injuries in technical terms, announced the cause of death, and gave it as his opinion that death had occurred sometime between nine o’clock and eleven-thirty o’clock Monday night.

“Cross-examine,” Danvers said.

“These injuries which you have described,” Mason said, “and which caused the death of the decedent — could all of them have been inflicted by means of a fall of fifty or a hundred feet while the decedent had been in an automobile?”

“With the possible exception of one blow which had been received on the skull, probably made with some circular instrument such as a gun barrel or a jack handle, or a piece of small, very heavy pipe.”

“That couldn’t have been caused by hitting the head in falling against some object such as the edge of the dashboard or the side of the steering wheel?”

“I don’t think it could.”

“Do you know that it couldn’t?”

“No, I don’t. Naturally, there’s a certain element of surmise. The final resting place of the automobile in which the body was found was, I understand, some distance from the place where it struck the first time. Yet at the time that it first struck, there was the force of a considerable impact.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

A police laboratory expert testified to examining a piece of carpet, similar to that usually placed in the luggage compartments of automobiles. There were stains on this carpet which he said were human blood.

“Cross-examine,” Danvers said.

“What type?” Mason asked. “What group did the blood belong to?”

“Type O.”

“Do you know what type blood the defendant has?”

“She also has type O.”

“Do you know what type blood the decedent, Bertrand Allred, had?”

“No, sir. I do not. I didn’t classify that.”

“You merely found out that the type of blood that was on this piece of carpet, which you understood came from the luggage compartment of the defendant’s automobile, was of the same type as the blood of the defendant. After that you ceased to be interested or to investigate further. Is that right?”

“Well, I...”

“Is it right, or isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Well, what did you do further?”

“Well, I... I made a careful investigation to prove that it was blood, and then that it was human blood.”

“And then you classified it?”

“Yes.”

“And found out it was type O?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And found out that the defendant had type O?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t you know, as a matter of fact, that between forty and fifty percent of the entire white race has blood of type O?”

“Well... yes.”

“And you felt certain even before you had made the test that the result of this test would show that this blood came from the body of the defendant?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then why did you type the blood of the defendant and the blood on the carpet, which you have mentioned?”

“Well, I wanted to show that it could have come from the defendant. Having shown that, there was nothing further that I could show.”

“And you didn’t type the blood of the decedent?”

“Wait a minute, I did, too. I have some notes on that. If you’ll pardon me just a moment.”

The witness took a notebook from his pocket, said, “The blood typing was incident to other matters and... yes, here it is. The decedent also had blood of type O — that isn’t particularly significant because as you yourself have pointed out, between forty and fifty percent of the white population of the world has blood of this type. The idea of my tests on the matter was not to show that the blood did come from the defendant, but that it could have come from the defendant.”

“And could also have come from anyone comprising fifty percent of the population.”

“Yes.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

One of the traffic officers described inspecting the automobile with Allred’s body inside, mentioned that the automobile had been locked in low gear when it went over the embankment, and apparently had been deliberately driven off the road and over the bank.

Mason asked no questions.

“Robert Fleetwood, take the stand,” Danvers said.

Fleetwood was sworn, took the stand and testified, giving a full account of events leading to Allred’s meeting him and Mrs. Allred at the Snug-Rest Auto Court around ten o’clock Monday evening.

“Then what happened?” Danvers asked.

“He seemed cordial enough. He was still posing as my brother-in-law. He shook hands, asked me how I was feeling and if I was regaining my memory. I said I wasn’t and then Allred said we’d have to leave this court because he had much better accommodations down the road a piece.

“I didn’t have any baggage except a razor and some toilet articles Bertrand Allred had given me. Mrs. Allred had a very small suitcase. We were able to leave the court almost at once.

“Well, he’d raised the turtleback to put Mrs. Allred’s bag in there, and suddenly he whipped out a gun and ordered her to crawl in there. She refused. He hit her hard in the face, and she knew he meant business. She crawled in. At that time I noticed her nose was bleeding.”

Convincingly he went on with his story, through the overpowering of Allred and starting for the Overbrook ranch. His recital tallied almost word for word with the story he had told Tragg and Mason previously.

“Did you know Overbrook?”

“Not personally, but I knew quite a bit about him from the books. He’d had some correspondence with us over a mining deal. I knew he wouldn’t sell me out to Allred.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well,” Fleetwood said, “I’d been pretending that I had amnesia. I thought it would be a pretty good thing to keep right on pretending. I drove the car up the road to Overbrook’s property, and about a quarter of a mile before I came to the house, I turned off the road in what seemed to be a nice open spot where I could get the car off the road and leave it. It turned out to be a soft spot where there was a certain amount of drainage from high ground on either side, which, coupled with the recent rain, had left the ground quite soft, but the car went in there all right.”

“In low gear?”

“In second gear, I believe.”

“Then what happened?”

“I moved the car off the road and stopped it.”

“Then what?”

“Mrs. Allred had evidently used a jack handle to pry back the catch on the door of the turtleback...”

“You don’t know she had used a jack handle?”

“No. All I know is that when she was put in there, the catch was shut, but when I stopped the car, she had got the catch open.”

“And what happened?”

“Almost as soon as I stopped the car, she pushed up the turtleback of the car and jumped out of the luggage compartment to the ground and started to run.”

“In which direction?”

“Back. Toward the road we had just left.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I called to her and said, ‘You don’t need to run. He’s knocked out. He’s absolutely unconscious.’ ”

“Did she say anything?”

“No. She just kept on running.”

“But your voice was loud enough so she must have heard you?”

“Sure, she heard me.”

“Then what?”

“I didn’t bother with her any more. I remembered Allred’s gun that I was still holding. I threw that gun just as far as I could throw it.”

“In which direction?”

“I think in a general north — well, a northeasterly direction from the car.”

“Then what happened?”

“There weren’t any lights in Overbrook’s house, but I could hear the barking of a dog, and that guided me. I walked directly to Overbrook’s house.”

“Did you go back to the road?”

“No. I just hit a beeline for where the dog was barking.”

“Then what happened?”

“I got Overbrook up out of bed. I asked him if he could put me up. I told him I didn’t know who I was or anything about myself.”

“He agreed to?”

“Yes. He gave me a bed.”

“Did you go to bed?”

“Yes.”

“And did you at any time during the night leave that bed?”

“No. I couldn’t have. The dog was watching.”

“By the dog, you mean Overbrook’s dog?”

“Yes.”

“Where was he?”

“In the living room.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I sat up and sort of thought I’d look around. I heard the automobile start up, and wondered if Allred had regained consciousness. I tried to open the door and look out, but the dog was there and he growled.”

“Wasn’t there a window?”

“That’s the point. The room was on the other side of the house, so I couldn’t see in the direction in which I’d parked the car. I wanted to get out and look through the windows of the other room in the house.”

“That was a rather simple house?”

“Yes.”

“Consisting of two rooms?”

“Four rooms. There was a room where Overbrook slept, a little kitchen, a room where I was sleeping and a living room.”

“Overbrook was there alone?”

“Yes. He was batching there.”

“What happened after that?”

The witness grinned and said, “I was trapped by my own device. Mr. Perry Mason drove up to the house and identified me and had a girl along who claimed I was her long lost husband. There was nothing I could do about it, without showing Overbrook that I’d been lying all along about the amnesia and I wasn’t in a position to do that. I still thought it would be a lot better for me to pretend that I couldn’t remember anything that had happened after that blow on the head, so I went along with them.”

“And what happened?”

“Mr. Mason took me to police headquarters.”

“Cross-examine,” Danvers said to Perry Mason.

Mason said to Danvers, “I suppose you have a map prepared showing the place where the car was parked and all that. You’re going to introduce it eventually. Why not bring it into evidence now, and give me a chance to cross-examine this witness in connection with the map.”

“Very well,” Danvers said, and handed Mason a map which was similar to the diagram Bert Humphreys had drawn for Paul Drake.

“We’ll identify this right now, if you want, with the testimony of the surveyor who made the...”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Mason said. “You can put the surveyor on later, but we have Fleetwood on the stand now and we may just as well finish with him.”

“Very well. And here are some photos of the tracks.”

“I’ll call your attention to this map,” Mason said, “and ask you if this seems to be a correct map or diagram showing the vicinity of Overbrook’s house?”

“Yes, sir. That is.”

“And where did you leave the car?”

“At this point.”

“And where was the luggage compartment of the car located?”

“Right about here. Right where you see the footprints of this woman — the dots marked here as ‘Woman’s Footprints Returning.’ You see they start here. That’s where the luggage compartment was located. They run down to the road.”

“And then you see a series of dots marked ‘Woman’s Footprints Returning’?”

“That’s right.”

“And what are those?”

“Well, of course, I don’t know what they are. I think that’s where Mrs. Allred and...”

“Never mind what you think,” Danvers interrupted. “Just confine your answers to what you know, and I’ll make Mr. Mason confine his questions to the issues. I object, Your Honor, to Counsel’s question on the ground that it calls for a conclusion of the witness and...”

“The objection would have been sustained, but the question was already asked and answered.”

“Not completely answered, Your Honor.”

“Very well, the objection is sustained. The answer of the witness will be stricken from the record. Go ahead, Mr. Mason.”

“Why,” Mason asked, “didn’t you complain to the police?”

“I didn’t have an opportunity.”

“You had an opportunity to get to a telephone and call Donnybrook 6981, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The number of someone in whom you are interested?”

“Yes.”

“And you wanted to appeal to this person for help?”

“Well, I wanted to get away from the predicament in which I found myself.”

“And did you, or did you not, talk with this person at Donnybrook 6981?”

“I did not. That was the number of Miss Bernice Archer, a friend of mine.”

“A close friend?”

“Yes.”

“And you wanted to advise her of what was happening?”

“Yes. I didn’t intend to ask her for help or to notify the police, but I didn’t want her to think I skipped out with a married woman.”

“You placed a call to her from a service station telephone, while Mrs. Allred was in the women’s rest room at the service station?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then didn’t wait for the call to be answered?”

“No, sir. There was some delay. Then Mrs. Allred came out and I didn’t want her to see me at the telephone.”

“That was the first opportunity you’d had to use a telephone?”

“Well, just about the first opportunity, yes.”

“You were in a motel all day Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“And Monday morning?”

“Yes.”

“There was no phone there?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you try to find a phone?”

“Yes.”

“Was Mrs. Allred there all that time?”

“Not all the time, no. But she was right close. I don’t think she was ever away from me over, well, over ten or fifteen minutes at a time.”

“You could have got up and walked out any time you wanted to?”

“Well, I guess I could have. Yes.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“Well, I wanted to see how the situation was going to adjust itself.”

“Yet you realized that Allred might show up at any moment?”

“To tell you the truth, Mr. Mason, I didn’t want to do anything that would make a scene, because I didn’t want to be put in a position of having to explain my actions.”

“Why not?”

“Because I thought that if I could fool everyone, and if Allred thought that I thought Patricia’s car had struck the blow that knocked me out, I might turn the situation somewhat to my advantage.”

“In what way?”

“I could lull Allred into a feeling of false security and have a chance to communicate with Mr. Jerome and explain matters to him.”

“Had you made any attempt to communicate, with Jerome?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“While we were there at the motel at Springfield.”

“And what did you do?”

“I called Mr. Jerome on the phone.”

“Oh you did, eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I didn’t talk with him. I left a message for him. He was out.”

“What did you say in this message?”

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and hearsay,” Danvers said. “Not proper cross-examination.”

“Sustained,” Judge Colton snapped.

“Now just a moment,” Mason said. “Your attitude toward the defendant in this case, Mrs. Allred, is influenced in some way by your business connections?”

“Well, only in a way.”

“You know that as the surviving partner, Mr. Jerome will be in charge of winding up the partnership business?”

“Well, generally, yes.”

“And you expect to be employed by Mr. Jerome?”

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

“I beg your pardon,” Mason snapped. “This is going to the motivation of the witness, his bias, his interest in the testimony which he is giving. I am entitled to show that on cross-examination.”

“You’re right,” Judge Colton said. “The objection is overruled.”

“Well,” Fleetwood said, and hesitated. “I guess I’d thought of that.”

“And the real reason, the underlying reason that you didn’t simply get up and walk out on Mrs. Allred there at that motel, was because you felt that at some time in the future you’d be able to turn the tables on Bertrand C. Allred and kill him, and that George Jerome with his money and his connections would stand back of you. Isn’t that right?”

“No.”

“Not even generally?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you simply wait until a propitious moment, smile at Mrs. Allred and say, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Allred, but this is all an act on my part. I’m going to leave you now’?”

“Well... because of certain complications. I wanted to stall along until Jerome could have a chance to catch Allred red-handed. The message I left for Jerome would tell him what to do. I wanted to keep Allred occupied with me until Jerome had the evidence sewed up.”

“You were then working hand-in-glove with Jerome?”

“In a way. I expected to co-operate with him, and have him co-operate with me.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“No further questions. Call P. E. Overbrook.”

Overbrook, attired in overalls and jumper, strode up to the stand, a big, good-natured giant, embarrassed by the crowd in the courtroom and his strange surroundings.

He took the oath, gave his name and address to the clerk, and turned uneasily to face Danvers.

“You’re the P. E. Overbrook who has the property described as the Overbrook ranch? You have seen this diagram and can identify this as marking the location of your house on that diagram?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mason said to Danvers, “As I understand the rule, Counselor, leading questions are permitted on direct examination when they are preliminary, merely; but I would suggest that if you don’t want me to object, you had better let the witness himself testify from here on.”

“My question was merely preliminary. I was trying to save time.”

“You could save more time if you gave all the testimony for this witness,” Mason said. “Time is important, but there are other matters more important.”

Danvers grinned and said, “I’m trying to save time, and you’re trying to save the defendant’s neck.”

“That will do, gentlemen,” Judge Colton said. “Please get on with the case, Mr. Danvers.”

“You’ve seen the witness, Fleetwood, who just testified?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you first see him?”

“Why, he came to my place Monday night.”

“About what time Monday?”

“Well, now, I can’t tell. It was after I’d gone to bed, and I woke up because the dog was barking. I never looked at the watch.”

“All right. What wakened you?”

“First I heard the dog bark, and then I thought I might have heard a car.”

“So you were awake, then, when Fleetwood came to the house?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, the dog barked real loud and I knew someone was right out in the yard. Then I heard someone speak to the dog and then there was the sound of knuckles on the door.”

“The dog didn’t bite?”

“No. The dog doesn’t bite. He barks, and he runs up and smells people, and I don’t know what would happen if a person tried to do something he wasn’t supposed to do. But as long as a person is going directly to the house and knocking on the door, the dog just keeps on barking, and that’s all.”

“So you went to the door and let Fleetwood in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, this man told me that he found himself wandering around, that he guessed he’d been in an automobile accident, that he didn’t know who he was and couldn’t remember anything about himself. So, naturally, I took him in.”

“Where did you put him?”

“Well, sir, I didn’t know anything at all about who he was, and thinking I might have heard a car motor stop down there made me kind of suspicious.”

“You didn’t say anything to this man about hearing the car stop?”

“No. I wasn’t even certain I had heard a car. I thought I might have — and the way the dog acted I thought a car had stopped.”

“Did the man tell you anything about having driven up in an automobile?”

“No. He said he just couldn’t remember a thing, that he just found himself walking along the road.”

“You knew that was a lie?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I thought the guy was hot.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, it was a cold, drizzly night and I didn’t want to turn him out, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I had a spare room with a cot in it and some blankets were there. I told him that I ran a bachelor’s place, and that he’d have to get in a bed without sheets, just some blankets.”

“And what did he say?”

“He seemed tickled to death. So I put him in that room.”

“And then what?”

“And then,” Overbrook said with a grin, “I took Prince, that’s the dog, and put him in the living room, and I told Prince to watch him and keep him in there, and then I went back to bed and went to sleep. I knew that that fellow could never get out of that room without Prince nabbing him.”

“You feel absolutely certain that he didn’t leave the room after he once entered it?”

Overbrook grinned and said, “When I tell Prince to keep somebody in a place and to watch him, why you can gamble Prince is going to do it.”

“How big a dog is Prince?”

“He weighs about eighty-five pounds. He’s a lot of dog.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, then, the next day this man Mason came and there was a party with him, and a woman that said she was this man’s wife, and everything seemed to be all hunky-dory, so they had a grand family reunion with a lot of billing and cooing, and this woman seemed just crazy to get her husband away from there and that was okay by me.”

“In other words, you accepted everything at its face value?”

“I still thought the guy was hot,” Overbrook said, “but I wasn’t sticking my neck out.”

“So they went away?”

“That’s right.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well,” Overbrook said, “nothing happened, until the next morning.”

“And then?”

“Well, about daylight the next morning I began doing a lot of thinking. I remembered noticing Fleetwood’s tracks and I thought I’d see if I couldn’t back-track him a ways.”

“Now this was Wednesday morning?”

“That’s right.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, I started out and picked up Fleetwood’s tracks, and then I back-tracked him. I was careful not to step in his tracks. I just walked along...”

“On this diagram,” Danvers interrupted, “there’s a line of dots which are labeled FLEETWOOD’S TRACKS TO THE HOUSE.”

“That’s right. Those are his tracks.”

“And another line of dots going in an opposite direction labeled OVERBROOK’S TRACKS FOLLOWING FLEETWOOD’S TRAIL.”

“That’s right.”

“And those are your tracks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now those tracks follow along parallel with the tracks left by Fleetwood?”

“Yes, sir. I back-tracked him down to where the car had stopped, and I started to circle around and then all of a sudden I seen these tracks where a woman had jumped out of the automobile and run back to the highway, and then I looked and saw a woman’s tracks coming back again from the highway and getting in the automobile apparently to drive it off. So I knew I’d better call the officers. It looked like a woman had been shut up in the luggage compartment.”

“So then what did you do?”

“Well, I kept right on walking to the hard ground without looking around any. You can see where these tracks of mine circle right up into the high ground up here. I have a farm road up there that runs out to my grain field.”

“A farm service road?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you do?”

“I walked up to that road and went back to the house and kept thinking things over; so then I took my tractor and trailer and loaded on a lot of scrap lumber, so people could get out there without messing things up any, and put the lumber down.”

“How did you put it down?”

“Why the way a person would put down lumber so as to save tracks that way. I’d put down a board and then walk out along that board and put down another board and then walk out along that board and put down another board until I had boards all the way out to where the car had stopped, and then I walked back along the boards, got in my tractor and drove back to my house, got my jalopy out of the shed and drove in to where there was a telephone. I called the sheriff and told him that I’d been putting up a man that said he had amnesia and I thought he might be hot and that I’d tracked him out to where he’d parked his automobile and, sure enough, I’d found there’d been a woman in the back end of the car and she’d jumped out and run down to the highway, and then after a while apparently she’d sneaked back and picked up the car and driven off.”

“At that time had you heard of Allred’s death?”

“No, sir. I hadn’t.”

“Cross-examine,” Danvers said.

Mason smiled reassuringly at the witness.

“So Fleetwood came to your place on Monday night and was there until sometime Tuesday?”

“That’s right; until you came and got him.”

“During that time he stayed in the house?”

“Not all of the time.”

“You didn’t stay in the house?”

“Me? No. I was out around the place doing chores.”

“You left Fleetwood alone there?”

“Some of the time, yes.”

“Fleetwood could have walked away and gone anywhere he wanted to?”

“Sure.”

“You didn’t tell the dog to guard him then?”

“No, the dog was with me.”

“You and the dog are quite close?”

“I’m fond of him and he’s fond of me.”

“He accompanies you wherever you go?”

“Everywhere,” Overbrook said, “except when I’ve got some job for him to do like watching somebody or something. Aside from that, my dog’s with me all the time.”

“The dog is loyal to you and devoted?”

“Yes.”

“And you could have left him to watch Fleetwood and the dog would have kept him there?”

“Sure, but I couldn’t have done it without Fleetwood knowing what I was doing.”

“And you didn’t want to do that?”

“It didn’t seem exactly hospitable.”

“Weren’t you afraid Fleetwood would steal something and...”

Overbrook’s grin was slow and good-natured. “Mr. Mason,” he said, “the stuff I got out in my cabin isn’t the stuff a man like Fleetwood would steal. I’ve got a little bacon and some flour and a little salt and some baking powder. I have some blankets and some cots to put ’em on, but — well, Mr. Mason, there isn’t anything there for anybody to steal. I live kind of simple, myself.”

Mason said, “It didn’t occur to you to back-track Fleetwood to see where he came from until Wednesday morning?”

“Well, I just kept thinking things over all the time. Things kept churning around in my mind and I couldn’t get them straightened out. The way you folks had showed up and taken this man away with you, and all this stuff, I just couldn’t get the thing out of my mind. So I started looking around and then just as soon as I seen the tracks made by this woman — you could see she was running.”

“Even without walking over to where the tracks were?”

“Yes, sir. People that live out in the country the way I do get so they’re pretty good at telling things about tracks, and the minute I saw these tracks, even without walking over to them, I could see that a woman had got out of that automobile and had really high-tailed it down to the road; and then I saw where she’d come back and she was walking slow and easy like when she came back. So I decided I’d just better tell the sheriff about the thing.”

“So then what did you do?”

“Just what I told you.”

“Now, would it have been possible for any person to have gone out to that automobile without leaving tracks?”

“Not in the ground that’s around that automobile. No, sir. There’s kind of a seepage there and the ground is nearly always soft for quite a little while after a rain.”

“Did you find the gun?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“When?”

“Well, that was after the sheriff got out there and we looked the tracks over a bit and the sheriff asked me to tell him what I could about them, and I noticed the tracks made by this man Fleetwood when he got out from behind the steering wheel of the automobile and walked around the front of the car. I could tell from those tracks that about the time he got even with the headlights, he’d turned around and done something, and the way the right foot was sort of smudged, I figured that he’d heaved something or thrown something and told the sheriff about it. So, the sheriff and I, we went out in the hard ground and started looking around and found it. It just happened I was the one that found the gun.”

“And what happened? Did you pick it up?”

“Not me,” Overbrook said, grinning. “I’d read enough detective stories so I know about fingerprints. I just called the sheriff and told him the gun was over there, and the sheriff didn’t pick it up. Not then. We got a stake and drove it into the ground where the gun was lying, and then the sheriff got a piece of string and slipped it through the trigger guard on the gun and pulled it up so he didn’t touch it. That way we didn’t smudge any fingerprints that were on it. I heard afterwards, that they’d found...”

“Never mind what you’d heard,” Danvers said, interrupting. “Just tell Mr. Mason the facts.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think that’s all,” Mason said.

“That’s our case, Your Honor,” Danvers said.

“You’re resting?” Mason asked, with some surprise.

“Certainly,” Danvers said.

“I move that the Court dismiss the case and free the defendant from custody,” Mason said. “There is no evidence sufficient to show that she is in any way connected with what happened.”

“On the contrary,” Danvers said. “There’s every evidence. We have to go through with this every time, Your Honor, but I suppose I may as well point out for the sake of the record what we have. We now have the testimony of witnesses showing that Allred was unconscious in an automobile, that Mrs. Allred was in the luggage compartment of that automobile. These tracks can’t lie. The person who was in the luggage compartment of that automobile got out and ran to the highway. Then after a while she turned around and walked back to the car, got in it and drove away. The unconscious form of her husband was in the car at that time. He couldn’t have recovered consciousness and left the car without leaving tracks. You can see from this diagram of tracks where the car was backed, turned and driven back to the roadway, headed in the direction of the main mountain road.

“I have a lot of other evidence that I can introduce, but the object of the defense counsel at this time is to force me to show all of my hand without showing any of his, and then when the case comes up for trial in the superior court, he will be in a position to have me at just that much of a disadvantage.

“The only object of this preliminary hearing is to prove that a crime has been committed, and to show there is reasonable ground for believing that the defendant committed that crime. I claim I have abundantly met the requirements of the law.”

“I think so,” Judge Colton said. “The motion is denied. Does the defense have any evidence at all it wishes to introduce?”

Mason said, “I notice that George Jerome is in court, and yet he was not called as a witness.”

“I didn’t need him.”

“I’ll call him as my witness,” Mason said.

“Now then, Your Honor,” Danvers protested. “This is an old trick, and it’s just a trick. The lawyer for the defense knows that his client is going to get bound over, so he doesn’t care what happens in this court. He isn’t bound by it. Therefore, he calls people and goes on fishing expeditions and...”

“I understand the basic rules of courtroom tactics,” Judge Colton said, smiling, “but I don’t think you would claim, Counselor, that Mr. Mason does not have a right to call any person whom he wishes as a witness.”

“No, Your Honor, but I do want to point out that George Jerome will be a prosecution witness and, in the event Mr. Mason puts him on the stand, I want Counsel to be confined to the examination of this witness according to the strict rules of evidence. I don’t want him to start cross-examining the witness.”

“When and if that happens, you may object,” Judge Colton said. “In the meantime, George Jerome is called to the stand as a witness for the defense.”

Jerome was sworn, looked somewhat angrily at Mason as he settled his huge frame there on the witness stand.

“Your name is George Jerome. You’re a partner, or were a partner, of Bertrand C. Allred?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You were, of course, quite well acquainted with Allred during his lifetime?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you saw him alive?”

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

“Overruled.”

“Well, it was, let me see. It was Monday evening about — oh about half-past six o’clock, I’d say.”

“Where?”

“Now you mean the last time I saw him?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it was out at his house. That is, out at the part of the house he calls his office — the place he has set aside for his office work.”

“That was Monday evening, the night of the murder?” Mason asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Objected to, if the Court please, as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

“Sustained.”

“Was anyone else there with you at that time?”

“No, sir.”

“Now when you drove away from that house did you take Mr. Allred with you?”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“In the automobile with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You took him up to the Snug-Rest Auto Court, didn’t you?”

“Objected to as leading and suggestive.”

“Sustained.”

“Where did you take him?”

“To a car rental on Seventh Street.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I stopped the car and let him out.”

“Did Mr. Allred tell you why he wanted you to take him there?”

“He said he wanted to rent a car.”

“Did he say where he wanted to go in that car?”

“No, sir.”

Paul Drake, pushing his way through the spectators, opened the gate in the mahogany railing which separated the bar from the spectators, tiptoed to Mason’s side and whispered, “I’ve just found out, Perry, that the D. A.’s office knows all about how Allred got to the Snug-Rest. He rented a car and driver to take him up there. He got there between nine-thirty and ten-thirty, the driver isn’t certain of the time. Of course, that doesn’t help you any because, while it corroborates Mrs. Allred’s story, it also ties right in with Fleetwood’s story.”

“Thanks,” Mason said in a whisper.

The lawyer turned to Jerome. “Mr. Jerome, you knew where Mr. Allred was going, didn’t you?”

“No, sir.”

“But you surmised it?”

“Objected to as argumentative, as an attempt to cross-examine his own witness,” Danvers said.

“Of course,” Mason pointed out to the Court, “this is a hostile witness and...”

“The Court understands,” Judge Colton interrupted. “If you want to assure the Court that this is your witness and you are calling him to prove some specific point which you can state to the Court, the situation will then be different. As matters now stand, this is merely a fishing expedition with one of the prosecution’s witnesses, and the Court will hold you to strict rules of procedure on direct examination. I take it, Mr. Mason, that you are not prepared to make any statement to the Court and Counsel of what you expect to prove by this witness?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“I thought not.”

“But,” Mason said, turning again to the witness, “you did follow Mr. Allred, didn’t you?”

“Objected to as leading and suggestive.”

“Sustained.”

“Were you at any time on Monday night in the vicinity of the Snug-Rest Auto Court?”

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. No proper foundation laid.”

“Sustained.”

“When was the last time you saw Bertrand Allred alive?”

“Objected to as already asked and answered.”

“Sustained.”

“When was the last time you talked with Robert Fleetwood before Allred’s death?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Did you talk with Fleetwood at any time on Monday?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Did you receive any message on Monday which had been left for you by Fleetwood?”

“Objected to as assuming a fact not in evidence, and attempting to cross-examine his own witness.”

Judge Colton said, “Mr. Mason, before I rule on the objection, I want to reiterate the position of the Court, which is that of being opposed to fishing expeditions by Counsel. Now, if you have any reason to believe...”

“I do, Your Honor. The witness, Fleetwood, has stated that he did leave a message for this witness.”

“Very well, the objection is overruled. Answer the question.”

Jerome said, “I received a message which I was told had been left for me by Fleetwood. It said not to make any settlement with Allred until I had talked with Fleetwood.”

“And when you talked with Fleetwood, what did he tell you?”

“Objected to as hearsay, incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

“Sustained.”

Judge Colton said, “I wish to call to the attention of Counsel that my position on all of these questions will be the same. If Counsel can state to the Court that he is prepared to prove some specific fact by this witness, there will be a great deal more leniency in connection with the examination of this witness.

“However,” Judge Colton went on, “it seems that we have reached the noon hour, and the Court will adjourn until two o’clock this afternoon. The defendant, in the meantime, is remanded to the custody of the sheriff. That’s all, Mr. Jerome. You will leave the witness stand and return at two o’clock this afternoon for further examination. Court’s adjourned.”

Mrs. Allred leaned over and touched Mason’s arm. “I want to talk with you,” she said tensely.

Mason said to the deputy sheriff, “My client wants to confer with me. May I have a few minutes?”

“Okay,” the deputy said. “Not too long.”

Mason nodded, took Mrs. Allred’s arm and escorted her over to a corner of the courtroom. “What is it?” he asked.

She said, “It’s the truth, Mr. Mason.”

“What is?”

“What Fleetwood has said.”

“You mean you were in the turtleback of that automobile?”

“Yes.”

Mason said grimly, “This is a hell of a time to say so.”

“I can’t help it, Mr. Mason. I had Pat to think of.”

“What about Pat? What does she have to do with it?”

“Nothing, Mr. Mason. Nothing at all. Now don’t misunderstand me. Please don’t misunderstand me on that. That would be the last straw.”

“I was merely taking what you said at its face value.”

“No, no. When I said I had to protect Pat, I meant that I felt it would be bad for her if I should admit I’d driven that automobile over the grade. I — well, that was what was in my mind all along — to try and avoid putting Pat in an embarrassing position.”

Mason said, “Well, suppose you try telling me the truth for a change. Just what did happen?”

“It was almost the way Bob Fleetwood said. He did drive the automobile off the road and stop, and I got out and ran down to the road. He called to me and told me that my husband was unconscious. I stopped then, and I saw him standing in front of the headlights. I saw him throw a gun just as far as he could throw it out into the darkness. And then I saw him turn and walk away from the automobile.

“I think it was because he threw away that gun that I was convinced. I knew he never in the world would have done that if my husband hadn’t been unable to hurt him. And, the way he did it, made me think that — well, you know, there was a certain gesture of finality about it. So I turned around and tiptoed back to the car and peeked inside to see just what the situation was.

“Bertrand was slumped over in a corner of the car, utterly motionless. You couldn’t hear a sound.”

“Fleetwood said he was breathing very heavily,” Mason said.

“Fleetwood is lying about that. My husband was dead.”

“You’re certain?”

“I should be certain. I stood there for a moment by the door of the car. Then I put my foot on the running board, raised myself up and said, ‘Bertrand.’ He made no answer. I leaned over and felt of his wrist. It had that peculiar clammy feeling that tells its own story. But I wanted to make sure. I felt of his pulse. He was dead.”

“Then why didn’t you go back and call the police?”

She said, “I didn’t realize the situation in which I’d placed myself until after I’d entered the automobile. I realized then that the ground was so soft that every single track showed.

“Bob Fleetwood is right about one thing. After I got in the luggage compartment, I lay there for a while, very cramped in that small space. Then I remembered we always kept an electric lantern in there for use in case of an emergency in changing tires. I found the electric lantern and switched it on. By examining the catch, I felt sure I could pry the catch back and get the lid of the luggage compartment open if I had a lever of some sort. Then I thought of the jack handle. I found that and tried it. It was pretty hard to manipulate things while the car was moving over the road, particularly that dirt road. It was a little rough.

“However, I finally got the catch back and got the lid so I could raise it. I was just in the act of raising the lid when the car turned off the road and stopped. I pushed the cover of the luggage compartment up far enough to get out, and jumped to the ground. I heard the lid bang down behind me, and I started running.

“I don’t think I’d gone over thirty or forty feet when I heard Bob Fleetwood call out that everything was all right and not to worry; that Bertrand was unconscious.

“I kept right on running, but I looked back over my shoulder and saw Bob Fleetwood throw the gun away. Then he walked away from the car. And, as I told you, I returned to the car and found my husband was dead.

“It wasn’t until that time I realized that from the nature of the ground in which the car was sitting my tracks showed. They showed just exactly what I had done, and I knew that if I left tracks going back to the automobile, then leaving the automobile and going back to the road again, it would look as though I had returned to kill my husband with the jack handle.

“So I thought I’d drive the car to some place where the ground was firmer, where I could get out without leaving tracks. Then I got the idea, why not drive the car off the grade and make it look as though my husband had lost control of the car?

“Well, I did that, and that was when I got the idea of pretending that Bob had stolen my car. I thought that would pass the buck to him, and then if anything turned up, in order to save his own skin, he’d have to say that he killed Bertrand in self-defense. I... well, I guess I didn’t do a very good job of thinking, but I’d been through a lot that night, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Is this the truth?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Look at me.”

She met his eyes.

“If I’d known this a long while ago,” Mason said, “I could probably have tied the killing to Bob Fleetwood. As it is now, you’ve lied and Fleetwood has lied. A judge or jury will have to toss up to decide which is telling the truth.

“The fact that Fleetwood threw the gun away makes me feel your husband was dead when Fleetwood left the car, but because you lied at the start, you’ve given Fleetwood all the trumps to play against us.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mason.”

“Look here, is this the truth?”

“Yes.”

Mason said, “If you are changing your story simply because you think Fleetwood’s testimony has given you a good chance to crawl out from under, you’re a fool.”

“No, I’m not just changing my story. I’m— I have Pat to think of... I...”

She started to sob.

Mason said, “Well, I’m not going to let you change your story. I’m not going to let you tell any story for a while. You aren’t to talk with anyone — anyone. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t ever forget, a good lie can sometimes have all the grace of artistry, but only the truth can have the ring of sincerity.”

And Mason raised his hand, beckoned to the deputy.