The Case of the Nervous Accomplice

Chapter 13

Judge Sedgwick looked at Perry Mason. “The peremptory challenge is with the defendant.”

“The defendant passes,” Mason said.

Judge Sedgwick glanced over at the prosecutor’s table, where Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, was sitting beside Marvin Pierson, conceded to be one of the most brilliant of the trial deputies in the district attorney’s office. “The peremptory is with the people.”

“The people pass.”

“Very well,” Judge Sedgwick said, “the jury will stand and be sworn to well and truly try the issues in the case of the People of the State of California versus Sybil Harlan.”

The jurors arose and held up their hands — five women and seven men, solemn-faced as befitted jurors who are about to decide issues which will involve the life of a fellow mortal.

“Do you wish to proceed with your opening argument, Mr. Burger?” Judge Sedgwick asked.

Hamilton Burger could not refrain from one triumphant glance at Perry Mason. He was about to explode a bombshell which would leave the defence floundering and helpless. The greatest pains had been taken to preserve secrecy in the matter, and the district attorney had every reason to believe that what he had to say would come as a terrific surprise to the defence.

Hamilton Burger walked up and stood in front of the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I’m going to make perhaps the briefest opening argument that I have ever made. We expect to prove to you, through witnesses, that Sybil Harlan, who is married to Enright Harlan and who is very much in love with her husband, felt that an attachment might be developing between one Mrs. Claffin and Enright Harlan. She knew that Mrs. Claffin was working with her husband, Enright, on a real estate development. She, therefore, retained Perry Mason, her present attorney, to provide a series of business complications which would introduce an element of discord into what she feared might become a romance.

“From a map which will presently be introduced, you will see that the scene where the murder was committed was an old house, a former mansion situated high on a hill which was about to be removed to make way for a modern subdivision development. The defendant secured a skeleton key, which enabled her to open the door of that building. She had a pair of binoculars, and she made it a habit to sit up in that building, looking down on the adjoining property which belonged to Mrs. Claffin.

“The defendant’s husband was quite a sportsman and a collector of guns. He had no fewer than twenty-eight rifles, seven shotguns and seven revolvers.”

Hamilton Burger glanced triumphantly at Mason. “We expect to show from the garage attendant who serviced the defendant’s car on the day of the murder that on the day in question there was a pair of binoculars and a revolver in the glove compartment of her car. We expect to show that shortly before the murder, the decedent, George Lutts, met the defendant just as the defendant emerged from a beauty shop. We don’t know whether by appointment, or, if so, who made the appointment. We do propose to show you that they met, that the defendant got in Mr. Lutts’ car and that Lutts then drove her to the parking lot where her car was parked. We propose to show by the parking attendant that at that time the defendant opened the glove compartment of her car and took out the gun, that she put the gun in her handbag and then joined the decedent on what was to prove to be his last ride.

“We will next show you the defendant, pale, nervous, evidently suffering from shock, walking and running to the highway that leads from the country club, which, as you will presently see from the map, runs within a relatively short distance of the scene of the murder. The defendant stopped a taxicab and had the taxi driver take her to the Union Station.

“At the Union Station, the defendant transferred cabs. She picked up another cab, and, mark this well, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, because it is highly important — she had this cab take her to her residence. We don’t know what she did there. We do know what she had an opportunity to do there. She then had the taxi, which had been waiting in front of her house, drive to the parking lot where her car had been located. At that time, she entered her car and did something to the door of the glove compartment.

“After that, the defendant telephoned someone, then returned to the taxi and had the taxi driver take her to the building where Perry Mason, her present attorney, has his office.

“We expect to show that George C. Lutts was killed by a thirty-eight revolver, that that revolver was one which came from the collection of Enright Harlan.

“On the strength of that evidence, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are going to ask for a verdict of first-degree murder. I am not going to make any recommendations as to what you should do in connection with assessing the death penalty. That is a matter which is entirely within the discretion of the jury, and this office does not want to adopt any position. You have the discretion in the event you find the defendant guilty to recommend that she be punished by imprisonment for life. We leave that matter entirely in your hands.”

Hamilton Burger turned and walked back to his counsel table, giving one swift, triumphant glance in Mason’s direction as he passed the table.

“Does the defence wish to make an opening statement now or later?” Judge Sedgwick asked.

Mason said, “Your Honor, may we have a brief ten minute recess while I give the matter consideration? Certain statements made by the district attorney relate to matters with which I am not personally familiar.”

“We object,” Hamilton Burger said. “Counsel has had every opportunity to confer with his client. The testimony which was given by witnesses before the grand jury has been delivered to him.”

“But, Your Honor,” Mason said, “many of the matters stated in the district attorney’s opening statement were not presented to the grand jury.”

“Naturally,” Hamilton Burger said, “I didn’t have to present my whole case at that time and, Your Honor, in order to show my good faith, I may say that some of these witnesses were discovered after the indictment.”

“The Court will grant a ten-minute recess,” Judge Sedgwick announced.

Mason turned to Sybil Harlan. “All right,” he said in a whisper, “can he prove that?”

Her lips were quivering as she tried to whisper. “I didn’t think anyone saw me.”

“You lied to me?” Mason asked.

“I tried to... tried to make things look a little better. As soon as I knew that he had been shot, I knew that having a weapon in my handbag—”

“I know,” Mason said wearily. “You thought you’d fool me a little and that that would make me a little more diligent in my defence. You did go to the Union Station, then take a taxicab and go to your house?”

She nodded. “But only to change my shoes and stockings.”

“And then telephoned me from the parking lot?”

Again she nodded. “I put the gun back in the glove compartment. Someone must have seen what I was doing and jimmied open the glove compartment and took out the gun while I was at your office.”

“That was after Lutts had been killed?”

“Of course.”

“Then how did it happen the fatal bullet came from that gun?”

“It couldn’t have, Mr. Mason. Either someone’s lying or someone switched the bullets after they were placed in the district attorney’s office.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mason told her. “You get me to try this case on that theory and you’ll be in the gas chamber.”

She met his eyes. “What other theory is there, Mr. Mason?”

Mason studied her. “I’m damned if I know,” he admitted.

“It’s all we have, the only chance we have. Please do as I ask you,” she said.

Mason watched her thoughtfully. “You’re not the type that likes to lie,” he said. “All of this is foreign to your nature. Now why did you lie? Was it because you killed George Lutts?”

“No.”

“Why?”

She hesitated for a moment, then poured forth the thoughts that were on her mind. “Mr. Mason, I never felt so downright cheap in all my life. I did lie to you. I lied to you because... well, when I got home to change my shoes and stockings, Ruth Marvel came over. She’s my closest friend. Her house adjoins mine, and when she saw me drive up in the cab, she came running over to see what was wrong. She knew I had taken my car with me when I left.

“Well, I confided in Ruth. I gave her the sketch, and Ruth, who is really very clever and who has excellent judgment, told me that since I hadn’t reported the thing to the police when it happened, I couldn’t possibly afford to do it then.

“I told her I was going to see you, and she said that was fine, but that a lawyer worked better on a case when he was enthusiastic about it. She said my first line of defence was to hope that no one knew I had been out there with Lutts, that police would find some clue pointing to the real murderer and that I’d never even be questioned, much less suspected.

“Then she said that if I should happen to be dragged into it, and they could prove I was out there with Lutts, the only other thing for me to do was to show that I had been in fear for my life.

“She told me to remember to tell you and to tell everybody else that I had heard the murderer walking around upstairs, that I had seen the hand and the gun—”

“You didn’t actually see or hear him?” Mason asked.

She shook her head.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing. I was listening to the radio down in the car. I didn’t even hear the shots. That’s the truth, Mr. Mason. The first thing I knew was that I went in there and he was dead. Of course, the murderer must have been in there at the time, and if I’d gone up the stairs far enough, he’d either have shot me or knocked me out and dashed out of the house. Apparently, Lutts was the only one he was after. When he heard me coming, instead of coming toward me, he must have retreated. He didn’t want me to see him. I had enough presence of mind to realize that. If I’d seen his face, then he’d have had to kill me, too. So I ran.”

“What about the car keys?” Mason asked. “How could you have been playing the radio if—”

“The keys were in the car, Mr. Mason. And I really and truly did have the radio turned on.”

“Loud?”

“Pretty loud.”

“Experiments show it would have to have been very loud for you not to have heard the shots.”

“Well, it was loud enough so I didn’t hear the shots, I can tell you that.”

“But police didn’t find the keys to the car,” Mason said. “They—”

“That’s where I made my big mistake, Mr. Mason.”

“You made a lot of big mistakes,” Mason said grimly. “What about those ignition keys?”

“It’s very seldom that I ride in a car with someone else. I’m usually driving. So when I get out of a car, I automatically take the ignition keys with me, and that’s what I did when I decided to go up and see what was happening in the house. I switched off the radio, took the ignition keys, went up the stairs, found Mr. Lutts dead, turned and ran screaming down the hill. It wasn’t until I got home that I remembered about the keys.”

“Then what did you do with them?” Mason asked.

“That’s one thing, Mr. Mason, they’re never going to trip me on. I hid those keys where they’ll never, never, never find them.”

“Does Ruth Marvel know where they are?”

“No. No one knows. And no one ever will know.”

Mason sighed. “Can’t you see what you’ve done? If you had told me this story, I could have given you some intelligent advice. You lied to me, and now you’re out on a limb. Moreover, you made the mistake of talking to Ruth Marvel.”

“No. It was all right to tell Ruth,” she said. “We can trust Ruth. She’d never breathe a word.”

“How do you know?” Mason asked. “Suppose the district attorney should subpoena her. If you had been talking to me, you would have been talking to your lawyer. The communication would have been confidential and privileged. Anything you told Ruth Marvel isn’t privileged. If the district attorney gets wind of it and puts her on the stand, she either has to tell what you told her or become an accessory after the fact.”

“But how in the world would he ever know—”

“He might get a lead,” Mason said, “because you got Ruth Marvel to go in that taxicab with you when you went out the second time. The way Hamilton Burger is preparing this case, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he hasn’t had detectives scouting the neighborhood and then letting the taxi driver — What’s the matter?” Mason asked, as he saw the expression on her face.

“He did ask Ruth Marvel to come to his office,” Sybil Harlan said in a panic. “He asked her some perfectly innocuous questions, and she was feeling very pleased with herself at the way she had handled herself, but... but—”

Mason said grimly, “If your friend, Ruth Marvel, had had a little more experience and a little less conceit, she wouldn’t have been feeling so smart. Now we’re in one hell of a fix.”

The bailiff called out, “Jury! Jury! Jury! Jury!”

The jurors filed into court, glancing curiously at Mason and the white-faced defendant.

Judge Sedgwick emerged from chambers and took his place on the bench.

Mason heaved a deep sigh and swung his chair around so as to face the witness stand.