The Case of the Runaway

Chapter 11

It was quite apparent that whatever mistakes Talbert Vandling, the district attorney of Fresno County, might be about to make, the mistake of underestimating Perry Mason as an adversary was not one of them.

Vandling, cool, courteous, wary and watchful, started putting on his case with that careful thoroughness which characterized a trial before a jury rather than a preliminary hearing before a magistrate.

“My first witness,” he said, “will be George Medford.”

George Medford turned out to be a nine-year-old boy, freckle-faced, rather embarrassed, with prominent eyes and ears, but who gave the impression of telling the truth.

“Where do you live?” Vandling asked.

“In Crampton.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Three years.”

“You are living with your father and mother?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s your father’s name?”

“Martin Medford.”

“What does he do?”

“He runs a service station.”

“In Crampton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, George, I’m going to ask you if you went out with your father on the thirteenth to a place about three miles out of Crampton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Were you familiar with that place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s on a little hill up in some kind of brush, sort of. You know, little live oak trees and some shorter brush. I don’t know, sagebrush or greasewood I guess, or something. You know, just kind of brush.”

“You had been out there before?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you get out there?”

“I rode my bike.”

“Did anyone go out there with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who?”

“Jimmy Eaton.”

“Jimmy Eaton is a boy about your age?”

“Six months older.”

“And how did he get out there?”

“He’d ride his bike.”

“Now, why did you go out there, George? What were you doing out there?”

“Oh, just playing.”

“Why did you go out there to play?”

“Well, it was a good place to ride our bikes. There’s a road near there and cars hardly ever go on it. The folks didn’t want us to ride our bicycles on any of the main highways because of the traffic and—well, we used to go out there. There’d been an old house up on the hill and the people had moved away or something and the house had started to cave in and—oh, we just used to go out there and hunt bird eggs and play and talk and things.”

“How long had you been going out there?”

“Oh, off and on for about six or eight months.”

“Now did you notice that a hole had been dug up there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you notice that?”

“Well, the first time we seen it was on Friday.”

“That would be Friday, the ninth?” Vandling asked.

“Yes, sir. I guess so. The ninth. Yes.”

“And what time did you go out there?”

“Along in the afternoon, about three or four o’clock.”

“And what did you see?”

“We saw this hole.”

“Can you describe the hole?”

“Well, it was a big hole.”

“About how big, George? Now this is important. Can you hold your hands to show about how big?”

The boy held his hands apart.

“Indicating a distance of about three and a half feet,” Vandling said. “Now about how long was it?”

“Long enough so you could lie down in it and still have lots of room.”

“You mean lie down straight out, stretched out?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How deep was it?”

George stood up and placed his hand about even with his stomach. “It came up to here.”

“Had you been out there on Thursday, the eighth?”

“No, sir.”

“Had you been out there on Wednesday, the seventh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was that hole there then?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“What was there at the place where the hole was?”

“Just ground.”

“Now when you went out Friday, at four o’clock, the hole was there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That hole was completed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What kind of a hole was it?”

“A good hole.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it had been made with a shovel so it was straight down. The sides were straight. The comers were good and clear. It was a nice hole.”

“What had been done with the dirt which was taken from that hole, George?”

“That dirt had been piled up over on the side.”

“Which side?”

“Both sides.”

“You mean not on the ends of the hole but on the sides of the hole?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what about the bottom of the hole?”

“It was just nice and even. It was a good hole.”

“And this hole was there on Friday, the ninth, in the afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it was not there on Wednesday?”

“No, sir.”

“Were you boys out there Saturday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you do?”

“We played in the hole.”

“How did you play in it?”

“Oh, we’d jump down in it, and then we played it was a fort and then we’d lie down so as to be out of sight and see if birds would come close and—oh, we just played.”

“Were you out there Sunday?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you go out there Monday?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you go out there Tuesday, the thirteenth?”

“You mean this last Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, we went out there.”

“And what had happened?”

“Well, the hole had all been filled in.”

“So what did you do, if anything?”

“Well, I told my dad that—”

“Never mind what you told anyone, George. What did you do?”

“Well, we played.”

“And then what?”

“Then we went home.”

“And did you return again that day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How soon after you got home?”

“About an hour afterward.”

“Who went with you?”

“My dad and Jimmy.”

“And your dad is Martin Medford, the man who is here in court?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s all,” Vandling said.

“No questions,” Mason said, “at least at the present time. I may state, Your Honor, that with some of these witnesses, where the importance of the testimony is not readily apparent, I might like to recall them for cross-examination if it appears that the testimony should subsequently be connected with matters of importance to the defendant’s case.”

“These witnesses are all important,” Vandling said. “I can assure the Court and counsel of that. I may also assure counsel that the prosecution in this case is just as anxious as the defense to get at the truth of the matter and we will have no objection to counsel recalling any witness that he may desire for any cross-examination at any time, subject only to the fact that the cross-examination must be pertinent.”

Judge Siler, the magistrate conducting the hearing, said, “All right, we’ll consider that in the nature of a stipulation. Defense has that right.”

“My next witness will be Martin Medford,” Vandling said.

Martin Medford testified that he was the father of George; that on the late afternoon of the thirteenth the boy had returned and told him about the hole having been filled in; that he had decided that the matter should be looked into, had taken a shovel and driven out to the place, accompanied by his son and Jimmy Eaton: that he had found the soil rather loose over the area indicated and had dug down in the hole; that at a distance of approximately two and a half feet he had encountered a rather yielding obstruction; that he had scraped away the dirt and found that this was the leg of a man; that he had immediately discontinued his digging and rushed to a telephone where he had notified the sheriff.

“Cross-examine,” Vandling said.

“You returned to the place with the sheriff?” Mason asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“And stood there while the hole was excavated?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you help in the digging?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was uncovered?”

“The body of a man.”

“How was it dressed?”

“In pajamas.”

“And that was all?”

“That was all.”

“No further questions,” Mason said.

The sheriff took the stand, told of going out with two deputies to the location indicated by Martin Medford. There they excavated the dirt which had apparently recently been placed in the hole, that is, the dirt had not settled. It was soft, although there had been some tramping around on the top of the hole.

The body of Edward Davenport had been found buried in the hole. The body had been removed to the morgue. At a later date the sheriff had returned and very carefully excavated the loose dirt in order to find something of the dimensions of the original hole; that the hole was in soil firm enough to retain the imprints of the original digging, and it had been quite apparent that a hole approximately three feet five inches by six feet had been very carefully excavated in the form of a very neat rectangle.

In response to a specific question by Vandling he stated that an attempt had been made to find tracks but that because of the tracks of the boys and of Martin Medford at the time of his digging there had been no footprints which had been deemed significant.

“You may cross-examine,” Vandling said.

“Under the circumstances,” Mason said, “I will ask no questions at this time.”

“Of course,” Vandling pointed out, “my stipulation with counsel was for the purpose of enabling him to protect the rights of his client and not to be caught by surprise. It was not a blanket invitation to pass up all cross examination until all of our case had been presented and then recall witnesses.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “I can assure counsel I will not take advantage of his courtesy in the matter. I will recall witnesses only when it seems there is some specific point to be gained by so doing.”

“Thank you,” Vandling said. “That’s all, Sheriff.”

Dr. Milton Hoxie was the next witness. He gave his qualifications as a physician and surgeon and toxicologist. He testified that he had been called on to perform an autopsy at the morgue on the evening of the thirteenth, that circumstances had prevented him actually performing the autopsy until nearly midnight, when he had been able to leave his practice long enough to perform the autopsy.

He had found the body of a man five feet eight inches tall, weight one hundred forty pounds, who was about thirty-five years of age, who had arteriosclerosis but who had apparently died of poisoning. He had performed certain tests and had detected the presence of a specific poison. He had come to the conclusion that death had been caused by the ingestion of cyanide of potassium. In his opinion at the time of the autopsy the man had been dead for perhaps twenty-four to thirty-six hours.

“Cross-examine,” Vandling said abruptly.

“You made a specific test for cyanide of potassium?” Mason asked.

“Yes, sir. Hydrocyanic poisoning.”

“And other poisons?”

“I tested for arsenic.”

“Did you find any arsenic?”

“Not in significant quantities. No, sir.”

“Did you find any quantity at all?”

“Not enough to be of any medical significance.”

“Did you find any other poisons?”

“I did not. No, sir.”

“Were the vital organs removed from the body?”

“They were. Yes, sir.”

“And what was done with them?”

“They were sent to a laboratory at the University of California for additional examination.”

“And has a report been received from the University?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Then you don’t know that the man met his death because of the poison you have mentioned?”

“I know that I found enough poison present to result in death and therefore I assume that death was caused by that poison.”

“Why did you send the organs to the University of California?”

“Because I wanted to have a more complete check made.”

“Because you were looking for some other poison?”

“I thought it would be a good plan to check and see if there was any other poison.”

“Then you weren’t satisfied that death was caused by potassium cyanide?”

“Certainly I was. But I wanted to see if there were any contributing factors—perhaps there were indications of knockout drops, so-called, or some barbiturate by which the resistance of the man might have been lessened so that the poison could have been administered.”

Mason thought that over frowningly.

“Proceed,” Judge Siler said.

“Just a moment, Your Honor,” Mason said. “I think this opens up an entirely new field here.”

“I don’t see how,” Judge Siler said.

Mason said. “It is apparent that originally the sheriff’s office had some theory as to the manner in which the poison was administered and that something in the findings of Dr. Hoxie was not in accordance with that theory.”

“Well, I certainly fail to see it,” Judge Siler said. “Proceed with your examination.”

“Certainly,” Mason smiled. “Did you look for evidences of chocolate in the man’s stomach, Doctor?”

“I did. I tried to check the stomach contents carefully.”

“And what did you find?”

“I found that the man had died approximately an hour after ingesting a meal of bacon and eggs. I did not find any appreciable amount of chocolate.”

“Did you test the body for blood alcohol, Doctor?”

“I did.”

“What did you find?”

“I found 0.15 per cent of alcohol.”

“Can you interpret that in terms of its medical significance?”

Dr. Hoxie said, “According to the authorities, at 0.1 percent a person is normal according to ordinary observation. He has, however, begun to show certain evidences of medical intoxication. At 0.2 per cent he has become intoxicated. He has emotional instability. His inhibitions are greatly diminished. At 0.3 per cent there is a very definite confusion, a staggering gait, a blurred speech. At 0.4 per cent there is stupor, a marked decrease in response to external stimuli and approaching paralysis. From 0.5 per cent to 0.6 percent there is complete coma and impairment of circulation. There is danger of death which is virtually inevitable after 0.6 percent of alcohol is in the blood. C. W. Muehlberger has prepared an interesting chart. 0.1 per cent is called ‘Dry and Decent.’ 0.2 percent ‘Delighted and Devilish.’ 0.3 percent ‘Dizzy and Delirious.’ 0.4 per cent ‘Dazed and Dejected.’ 0.5 percent ‘Dead Drunk.’”

“So in this body in which you found 0.15 per cent of alcohol, what are your conclusions with reference to intoxication?”

“The man had begun to be intoxicated. He was entering the stage described by Muehlberger as ‘Delighted and Devilish.’”

“He would be feeling the effects of alcohol?”

“He would.”

“He would be showing some manifestation of those effects?”

“In all probability to the casual observer. Certainly to the trained observer.”

“I take it, Doctor,” Mason said casually, “that while you were primarily interested at the time of the post-mortem examination in determining the cause of death, you took some steps to identify the body?”

“That is right. I may state that I was present when some steps were taken.”

“There is no question in your mind but what the body was that of Edward Davenport?”

“No question at all.”

“Let me ask you a hypothetical question, Doctor. Assuming that this man had been poisoned by cyanide of potassium taken in the form of a candy such as was found in the box of candy located among Mr. Davenport’s effects at the motel in Crampton, wouldn’t death have been almost immediate?”

“It would have been very rapid.”

“There was, in other words, enough cyanide in each piece of candy to have resulted in almost immediate death?”

“Not in each piece of candy, Mr. Mason. Some of them contained arsenic and—”

“I’m not trying to trap you, Doctor. I am referring to the candies which contained cyanide.”

“That is correct. Yes, sir.”

“The development of symptoms and unconsciousness comes very rapidly after the ingestion of doses of cyanide such as you found in the candies which did contain cyanide?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now then, Doctor, if the decedent had met his death from eating a piece of that poisoned candy, wouldn’t you have found some chocolate in his stomach?”

“Well, there, of course,” Dr. Hoxie said, “is a puzzling situation. I would assume so.”

“And did you find such evidences of chocolate?”

“No.”

“You would have expected to find some if the man had eaten a piece of poisoned candy?”

“Frankly, I would—unless he might have bitten into the candy which could have caused his death, detected a strange flavor, and have spit out the candy, yet swallowed enough of the poisoned liquid in the candy to have caused death. I assume that is what happened. I think from all the facts it is what must have happened, but I can’t find any physical evidence which will enable me to testify it did happen. And I don’t see how he could possibly have ingested the poison I found in his stomach unless he had eaten an entire piece of candy at the very least.”

“Then you don’t actually know how the man ingested the poison which caused his death?”

“No, sir.”

“How long had he been dead?”

“I am unable to determine. I would say somewhere around twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

“What about a condition known as rigor mortis, Doctor?”

“At the time I made the examination rigor mortis was well marked in the thighs and legs but the neck and shoulders were limp.”

“What about post-mortem lividity?”

“That was well developed, indicating that the position of the body had been unchanged after death, that is, within a short time after death.”

“Now as I understand it, rigor mortis develops first in the face and jaws, then gradually extends downward?”

“That is correct.”

“And it leaves the body in the same way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How long does it take rigor mortis to develop?”

“It varies. But under ordinary circumstances from eight to twelve hours.”

“Now in this case rigor mortis had not only developed but had enveloped the entire body, then it had begun to disappear. Is that correct?”

“That is substantially true, yes.”

“According to the authorities I believe that the envelopment of the entire body in rigor mortis is supposed to take about eighteen hours?”

“It varies.”

Mason said, “Are you familiar with the writings of Dr. LeMoyne Snyder?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I believe that in his book, Homicide Investigation, Dr. LeMoyne Snyder considers a hypothetical case such as you have described where rigor mortis is still well marked in the thighs and legs, and estimates such a situation as indicating that death took place from twenty-nine to thirty-four hours previously.”

“I am not entirely familiar with his schedule on that.”

“But you would say that that was substantially correct?”

“I would say it could well be, yes.”

“Now you are referring to the condition of the body at the time you performed the post-mortem?”

“That is correct.”

“And you did not perform the post-mortem until some hours after the body had been discovered?”

“That is true.”

“I believe you said your post-mortem was performed about midnight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re referring to the condition of the body at the time you saw it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, generally speaking, the man must have met his death at from two o’clock in the afternoon to seven o’clock in the evening of the preceding day, which was Monday, the twelfth. Is that correct?”

“Well, that is correct if you are going to take such a time chart, but rigor mortis is exceedingly variable. It depends upon temperature. It depends upon certain conditions. I have seen rigor mortis develop almost immediately when death has occurred after a struggle under conditions of temperature which—”

“Were there any evidences of struggle in this case?”

“No, there were not.”

“You wouldn’t care to fix a definite time by the development of rigor mortis?”

“Not definitely.”

“But you do know that such an authority as Dr. LeMoyne Snyder has claimed that under ordinary circumstances the development of rigor mortis such as you observed in the body at this time would have indicated that death had occurred between the hours of two o’clock and seven o’clock of the preceding day?”

“Yes, sir. I guess so.”

“Not what you guess, Doctor, but what you know.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“Had you considered this fact as being a development in the case?”

“Frankly, I had not.”

“Why, Doctor?”

“Because of the fact that a doctor certified the time of death as being between two and three o’clock in the afternoon of the day preceding, and there is nothing in the schedule of rigor mortis which can be narrowed down definitely. Dr. Snyder and other authorities are dealing only with average cases. They can’t lay down rules which can definitely determine the time of death in any individual case. They are talking in terms of generalities, and there is nothing more tricky, or I may say nothing which offers more of a variable under existing conditions, than the development of rigor mortis.”

“You are familiar with the symptoms of arsenic poisoning, Doctor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what are those symptoms?”

“Generally there is a burning of the mouth and the throat. There are abdominal cramps with nausea and vomiting. There is usually diarrhea. There are times under certain circumstances when the first symptoms are somewhat delayed, but as a rule the first symptoms are very rapid in their development after the ingestion of the poison.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mason said. “I have no further questions.”

Vandling said, “Call Harold Titus to the stand.”

Titus came forward, was sworn, testified that he was a deputy sheriff, that he had specialized in the study of fingerprints, that he had been present at the time when the body of Edward Davenport was discovered in the grave about three miles out of Crampton, that he had taken fingerprints of the dead man, and that he had compared a thumbprint with that on the driving license issued to Edward Davenport and that the prints were identical.

“Had you previously made an investigation in a motor court at Crampton in connection with this case?”

“I had. Yes, sir.”

“What time was that investigation made?”

“About half-past three on the afternoon of the twelfth.”

“That was Monday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you discover?”

“I discovered a locked room in which a corpse was supposed to be located. The door was opened and there was no corpse in the room. There was no one in the room. There was an open window and a loosened screen. There were men’s clothes in the room. There was a handbag, a box of candy. There was a wallet containing various papers of identification indicating that the room had been occupied by one Edward Davenport.”

“Did you meet the defendant, Myrna Davenport, at that time?”

“I did. Yes, sir.”

“And did she make any statements to you with reference to the identity of the man who had occupied that unit?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who did she say the man was?”

“Edward Davenport, her husband.”

“What did she say about his condition?”

“That he was in a dying condition when she and her companion, a Mrs. Ansel, arrived.”

“Did she say whether she and Mrs. Ansel had been admitted to the room?”

“Yes. She said that they both went into the room, that afterward she had retired, that shortly afterward her husband had taken a turn for the worse, that his respiration was very shallow, that he was barely breathing, that the doctor was called and announced that the man’s condition was very serious. The doctor had been with him when he died. The doctor had then locked up the room after having stated that the circumstances of the death were such that he could not sign a death certificate.”

“Did she make any further statements?”

“There were some statements to the effect that the conduct of the doctor had indicated to her mind that he was insinuating she had murdered her husband and she naturally resented that.”

“And what was your position in the matter at that time?”

Titus grinned and said, “We learned that Edward Davenport was a heavy drinker. We skirmished around and found a witness who’d seen someone in the same patterned pajamas the man was wearing climb out of the window of that unit, and so we decided the fellow had got hold of some alcohol and had gone off on a binge.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Well, at the insistence of Dr. Renault, we retained the key to the room in question while we made an additional investigation.”

“Was any restraint placed upon the movements of the defendant or her companion, Mrs. Ansel?”

“Definitely not.”

“And what did they do?”

“They were located in another unit of the motel.”

“You didn’t give them a key to the cabin?”

“Definitely not.”

“You retained that key?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now was any attempt made to place the defendant under surveillance?”

“Not at that time. Later on there was.”

“What happened?”

“Well, she told us she was going to stay on overnight at the motel, but about—oh, I don’t know, around seven o’clock the manager of the motel phoned us that she and Mrs. Ansel had left. We traced them to Fresno and found they had taken a plane to San Francisco.”

“What did you do?”

“We telephoned San Francisco to pick her up when the plane landed and put a tail on her.”

“And that was done?”

“Well, of course, I only know now from reports.”

“I understand. I will not ask you what was done by anyone else. Now when did you next see the defendant?”

“That was on the fourteenth.”

“At what time?”

“At four-thirty in the afternoon.”

“And where did you see her?”

“In your office.”

“You had a conversation with her?”

“I did.”

“And generally what did the defendant state to you at that time with reference to a box of candy which had been produced?”

“She stated that she had purchased that box of candy and had placed it in her husband’s traveling bag, that the husband always carried a box of candy with him, that he was a heavy drinker and a periodic drinker. There were times when he felt the craving for alcohol and when he was able to eat candy, and by going on what she called a candy binge, could control the craving for alcohol.”

“She admitted to you that she had bought this box of candy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you ask her at that time whether she had in any way opened the box or tampered with the chocolates?”

“She told me that she had simply purchased the box of chocolates and had placed it in her husband’s bag, unopened, as it came from the candy store. That she had taken off the outer wrappings because she had purchased two boxes at the same time, but that she had not disturbed the cellophane wrapper around the box.”

“Did you examine that box of chocolates?”

“Yes, sir.”

“For the purpose of determining latent fingerprints?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you discover?”

“I found two chocolates which had the prints of the defendant’s right thumb and right forefinger.”

“Were you able to photograph those prints?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have the photographs with you?”

“I have.”

“Please show them to defendant’s counsel and then I’m going to ask that they be received in evidence.”

“No objection,” Mason said, hastily inspecting the photographs.

“Later on, were you present when those pieces of candy bearing the latent fingerprints were tested for poison?”

“I was.”

“And did you in some way designate those particular pieces of chocolate?”

“Yes, sir. We pasted a small piece of paper on the bottom of those chocolates, numbering one of them number one and the other number two. I placed my initials in ink on that piece of paper.”

“And those two chocolates in your presence were tested for poison?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cross-examine,” Vandling said.

Mason said conversationally, “Do you know what was found with reference to the presence of poison in those two pieces of chocolate?”

“Only by hearsay.”

“That is hearsay from the toxicologist who performed the test?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you were there at the time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that both of those pieces of chocolate contained cyanide of potassium, that all of the other pieces of chocolate contained arsenic.”

“You know that arsenic usually produces death rather slowly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that cyanide produces it very rapidly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you make any attempt as an investigating officer to determine why two pieces of candy containing poison which would bring about almost instantaneous death had been mixed with candy which would bring about a slow death?”

“No, sir. I asked the defendant about that and she insisted all of the time that she had not opened the box of candy, that she had never touched any of the chocolates.”

“That’s all,” Mason said. “No further questions.”

“I will now call Sara Ansel to the stand,” Vandling said.

Sara Ansel, who had been in the back of the courtroom, stood up and said belligerently, “I don’t want to be a witness in this case. I don’t know anything that would be of the slightest help to the prosecution. That young woman who is being tried is my sister’s niece and the poor girl is innocent.”

“Just come forward and be sworn,” Vandling said.

“I’ve told you that I don’t want to be a witness. I—”

“Come forward and be sworn, madam,” Judge Siler announced, and, as Sara Ansel still hesitated, said, “Otherwise you will be tried for contempt of court. This is a court of law. You were called as a witness. You are present. Now come forward.”

Slowly Sara Ansel marched down the aisle, through the swinging gate in the section reserved for attorneys and witnesses, and up to the witness box. She held up her right hand, was sworn, smiled reassuringly at Myrna, then sat down and glared at Vandling.

“You’re Sara Ansel?” Vandling said. “You are at the present time living in Los Angeles with the defendant in this case in a house which was formerly the property of William C. Delano. Is that right?”

“That’s right,” she snapped.

“How were you related to William C. Delano?”

“I wasn’t related, that is, not actually. My sister married William Delano’s brother.”

“They are both dead?”

“Both dead.”

“What relatives did Delano have at the time of his death?”

“He had none at the time of his death other than Myrna, unless you could call me a relative by marriage.”

“You were his sister-in-law?”

“In a way, yes.”

“He referred to you as such?’

“Yes.”

“You had seen William C. Delano several times in his lifetime?”

“Several times.”

“Now shortly before his death did you see him?”

“Yes.”

“How long before his death?”

“Approximately a month.”

“Now can you describe generally the condition of William Delano’s household during that month? Who was there?”

“I was there, and his niece, Hortense Paxton, was there, and Myrna and Ed Davenport. Myrna came to help with the work.”

“And what happened to Hortense Paxton?”

“She died.”

“And after that William Delano died?”

“Yes.”

“About how long after Hortense Paxton’s death was it that William Delano died?”

“A little over two weeks.”

“During that two weeks he was a very sick man?”

“Yes.”

“And he changed his will, that is, he made a new will during that time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t he tell you in the presence of the defendant, Myrna Davenport, that he was making a new will?”

“Not in so many words. Lawyers came to the house and he was executing a document. He was a very sick man.”

“Under the terms of that will you inherited some money, did you not?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Under the terms of that last will you inherited some money, did you not?”

“Answer the question,” Judge Siler said.

“Yes, sir.” she snapped.

“How much?”

“A hundred thousand dollars and a fifth interest in his big house.”

“When did you first meet the defendant, Myrna Davenport?”

“When I came to visit William Delano.”

“Was she living there at the house at that time?”

“Not at that time. She was there helping with the work, helping Hortense, but—”

“Now just a moment. By saying that she was helping Hortense you mean she was helping Hortense Paxton, the niece who died?”

“Yes.”

“And Hortense Paxton was running the house, supervising the servants, waiting on William Delano?”

“Yes.”

“And had been for some time?”

“She’d been living with him for more than two years. She was his favorite. They were very close.”

“And shortly after you arrived at the house to visit William Delano, the defendant, Myrna Davenport, came to live with him? Isn’t that right?”

“Well, it wasn’t that simple. That is, you can’t divide it into periods like that. Myrna first came to visit and help Hoi-tie—”

“Now, by Hoi-tie you mean Hortense Paxton?”

“Naturally.”

“Very well, Go on.”

“She was there visiting and helping, and then she decided to move in, that—well, it may have been shortly before I came or shortly afterward, I don’t remember which, but in any event, she and Ed, that was her husband, did move in and take up their residence.”

“But Mr. Davenport still continued to maintain his office at the place he and Myrna Davenport had been using as a residence up in Paradise in this state?”

“Yes.”

“How much of the time?”

“Quite a bit of it.”

“After you came, and shortly after Delano’s death, Mr. Davenport started absenting himself from home, did he not?”

“What do you mean by home?”

“At that time it was the residence in which William Delano had passed away, was it not?”

“I guess so, yes.”

“That’s what I mean by his home. I will refer to the place in Paradise as his mining office.”

“Very well.”

“And shortly after you moved in you noticed that Mr. Davenport began to absent himself, did you not?”

She said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but I’ll tell you frankly that Ed Davenport and I didn’t get along. But that didn’t have anything to do with those trips of his. Ed Davenport didn’t like me. There wasn’t any secret made about that, although I was just as nice to him as I could be, but he thought I was turning Myrna against him. Actually all I was doing was trying to tell Myrna to wake up to what was happening.”

“What was happening?”

“He was mingling every cent of Myrna’s money he could get hold of with his money and mixing it all up and juggling the assets around so that a body couldn’t tell anything in the world about it. If you’d start asking him about his mining properties or what he was doing, or about how much money Myrna had, or what he was doing with it and where it was invested, he’d either clam up on you or jump up and leave the room. Then shortly afterward he’d take another of his ‘business trips.’ If you really tried to pin him down you’d get all sorts of evasive answers. You couldn’t tell which was which. I knew what he was doing and he knew I knew what he was doing.”

Sara Ansel glowered belligerently at Vandling.

“You knew what he was doing?”

“Certainly I knew what he was doing. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“How did you know what he was doing?”

“Why, by asking him questions and getting his answers and seeing the way he was acting and all of that stuff.”

“And did he know that you knew what he was doing?”

“Certainly he did. I didn’t make any secret of it. That is, I asked him very pointed questions.”

“In front of his wife?”

“Naturally. She was the one I was trying to get to wake up.”

“And then you talked with his wife privately?”

“Yes.”

“And suggested that she should consult an attorney?”

“Yes.”

“And what else?”

“That she should hire private detectives to trail him. He was gallivanting around the country. He’d tell Myrna to pack up a suitcase for him, talking to her just as though she were a servant, and tell her he was going off to one of the mines. He wouldn’t even tell her which one. He’d say ‘one of the mines.’ “He had several?”

“He did after he began to get his hands on her money. That was when he started to expand. And. as I say, he just mixed transactions around so you couldn’t tell anything about anything.”

“He was using his wife’s money?”

“Of course he was. He didn’t have any money of his own. All he had were some mines he was buying and operating on a shoestring. As soon as William Delano died he started in being a big operator right away. He borrowed what money he could on the strength of the money that was coming to his wife. He got his wife to make a big loan at the bank and then he hurried through some kind of partial distribution of the estate so that Myrna could get money, and as soon as it hit Myrna’s bank account he drew it right out.”

“Do you know how he handled those transactions? Did he give Mrs. Davenport a note or anything?”

“Certainly not. He simply had her put money in a joint account. And all she could ever use that joint account for was just household expenses and an occasional dress or something.”

“So you warned Mrs. Davenport about this?”

“Certainly.”

“So at a time, say a week ago, Myrna Davenport had every reason to distrust her husband, to hate her husband and to wish him out of the way, did she not?”

“Now what are you getting at? You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I’m simply summarizing what you’ve told me. You had told Mrs. Davenport that her husband was embezzling her money?”

“Yes.”

“That he was running around with other women?”

“I suspected it.”

“That he was simply trying to get his hands on her inheritance so that he could add it to his own funds and juggle things around so she would lose out financially?”

“Well, I didn’t use exactly those words.”

“But that was the idea you conveyed?”

“Yes.”

“Some ten days ago Edward Davenport announced that he was going to his office in Paradise?”

“Yes.”

“And asked his wife to pack his bag?”

“Yes.”

“Was anything said about candy?”

“He told her that he needed some fresh candy, that he had eaten up all but one or two pieces in the other box.”

“Do you know of your own knowledge what Mrs. Davenport did in connection with packing the bag or getting the candy?”

“Not of my own knowledge. I learned afterward that she bought two boxes of candy.”

“And that one box of candy was put in his suitcase?”

“I believe so. I didn’t see that with my own eyes.”

“Did you know anything about Mrs. Davenport having poisons?”

“She’s a great gardener and she did some experimenting with different sprays that she mixed up. She followed some sort of a recipe for plant sprays.”

“Did she have arsenic and cyanide of potassium?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you talk with her about poison at any time?”

“Well, yes.”

“And did she tell you that she had arsenic and cyanide of potassium?”

“She told me that she had some things for sprays.”

“Did she tell you she had arsenic and cyanide of potassium?”

Mason said, “Your Honor, this seems to be an attempt on the part of counsel to cross-examine his own witness.”

“She’s a hostile witness,” Vandling said.

“Objection overruled,” Judge Siler said. “It’s quite apparent that she’s a hostile witness.”

“Did she tell you she had cyanide of potassium and arsenic?” Vandling asked.

“Yes.”

“Did she discuss with you the fact that she had tried to conceal those poisons and bury them so that the authorities couldn’t find them?”

There was a long silence.

“Answer the question,” Vandling said.

“Yes,” Sara Ansel said.

“And you actually saw her burying some of those packages containing poison?”

“She didn’t want to be subjected to a lot of inquiry and—”

“Did you actually see her burying those poisons?”

“I saw her digging a hole. I don’t know what she put in the hole.”

“Did she tell you what she put in the hole?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say she put in the hole?”

“Poisons.”

“Now then, directing your attention to Monday, the twelfth. You and Mrs. Davenport were at the Delano house?”

“Yes.”

“And at some time in the morning, around nine o’clock, you received a telephone call from a doctor in Crampton, did you not—a Dr. Herkimer C. Renault?”

“Yes. The call came through.”

“Did you talk on that call or did Myrna Davenport?”

“I did.”

“And what did Dr. Renault tell you?”

“He asked for Mrs. Davenport. I told him that I was Myrna Davenport’s aunt and that I could take any message to her. He said it was serious news concerning her husband.”

“Now as far as the telephone conversation itself was concerned,” Vandling said to Judge Siler, “I think that probably is hearsay evidence, but as far as what this witness told the defendant concerning that telephone conversation it goes to the defendant’s knowledge and state of mind—”

“I’m not making any objection,” Mason interrupted. “Go right ahead.”

“Very well. What did that conversation consist of?”

“Dr. Renault told me that Mr. Davenport, was in a motel in Crampton, that he was very seriously ill, very, very ill; that he understood the man had high blood pressure and hardening of the arteries, and that he thought it was advisable for Mrs. Davenport to get there just soon as possible.”

“Now I won’t waste time with a lot of details,” Vandling said, “but you and Mrs. Davenport promptly packed up, made arrangements to catch a plane which would get you into Fresno shortly after noon. You grabbed a taxicab and then you persuaded Mrs. Davenport that she should stop at the office of an attorney, and you did stop at the office of Perry Mason, did you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now prior to that time you had some knowledge of the fact that Mr. Davenport had left a letter of some sort, to be delivered to the officers in the event of his death?”

“He had accused Myrna of—well, of lots of things, and he said that he had left a letter to be delivered to the officers in case anything happened to him.”

“And you went to the office of Perry Mason with Mrs. Davenport, and Mr. Mason was retained to go to Paradise and get that letter so that it would not be delivered to the officers in the event of Mr. Davenport’s death? Isn’t that true?”

“Now there, Your Honor,” Mason said, “I’m forced to interpose an objection because it calls for a confidential communication between a client and an attorney.”

“You didn’t employ Mr. Mason, did you?” Vandling asked Sara Ansel.

“Me? Certainly not. What would I want with a lawyer?”

“But Myrna Davenport did?”

“She told him what to do.”

“And you told him what to do, didn’t you?”

Well, Myrna was pretty well shaken up and—”

“And you told him what to do, didn’t you?”

“Well, perhaps I explained certain things to him.”

“And you were present at all of the conversation?”

“Yes.”

“Tell us what was said at that conversation.”

“I object,” Mason said. “It’s calling for a confidential communication”

“Not with a third person there,” Vandling said.

Judge Siler said, “This question calls for the instructions that were given Mr. Mason as an attorney by Mrs. Davenport as a client?”

“Yes, Your Honor, in the presence of Sara Ansel, a third person.”

“I don’t think it’s admissible,” Judge Siler said.

“May the Court please, I have, authorities on the subject,” Vandling said, “I think it is quite clearly admissible.”

“Well, I’ll study the authorities,” Judge Siler said, “but I’ll want to take a little time to look them over. I don’t like the idea of introducing evidence of what a client told a lawyer.”

“I will give Your Honor the authorities and you can—”

“Well now, wait a minute,” Judge Siler said. “Why don’t I look those up during the noon hour? Why do you have to bring this question up at this time? Can’t you withdraw this witness and put on another witness?”

“Yes, I suppose I could,” Vandling said.

“Very well. Why not withdraw this witness? We have a question. We have Mr. Mason’s objection to the question. You have some authorities on the point. After the noon recess I’ll rule on the question and then the witness can either answer or not, depending on my ruling, and the attorney for the defense can proceed with his cross-examination.”

“Very well,” Vandling said. “Step down, Mrs. Ansel. You may leave the stand.”

Sara Ansel heaved herself up out of the witness stand, glared at Vandling.

“But don’t leave the city,” Vandling warned. “Remember you are under subpoena. You are to remain in attendance here in court during all of the sessions and you are to be here following the noon adjournment”.

“Yes,” Judge Siler said. “You are under subpoena. Don’t try to leave. You are to be here during the entire trial. Do you understand?”

She studied him contemptuously.

“Do you?” Judge Siler asked, raising his voice and showing some irritation.

“Yes,” she said.

“See that you’re here then,” Judge Siler said. “Call your next witness, Mr. Vandling.”

“I will now call Dr. Renault to the stand.”

Dr. Renault, a slender man about fifty years of age, his manner precisely, coldly professional, took the witness stand and surveyed the district attorney with dark eyes that held no expression whatever. His manner was the carefully cultivated professional manner of a physician who has been on the witness stand before and, while preparing to weigh questions and answers carefully, has a certain professional superiority.

“Your name is Dr. Herkimer Corrison Renault?” Vandling asked.

“That’s right. Yes, sir.”

“You are licensed to practice in this state as a general practitioner, a doctor of medicine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, we’ll stipulate the doctor’s qualifications subject to the right to cross-examine,” Mason said.

“Where do you practice, Doctor?”

“In Crampton.”

“And have been there for how long?”

“About three years.”

“On the morning of the twelfth you were called on to administer to a patient who was staying at a motel in Crampton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who was that patient?”

“Edward Davenport.”

“Did you know him at the time?”

“No, sir.”

“Did yon see the body of Edward Davenport after it was exhumed and prior to autopsy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Were you present at the autopsy?”

“No, sir.”

“Was the body that you saw the body of the person you had treated on the twelfth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you talk with the defendant on the twelfth of this month?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did she see the person whom you were treating?”

“Yes, sir.”

‘ ‘Did she make any identification of that person? ‘ ‘

“Yes, sir.”

“Who did she say it was?”

“She identified him as being Edward Davenport, her husband.”

“Now I want you to state exactly what happened in regard to your treatment and in regard to Mr. Davenport’s condition.”

“Well,” Dr. Renault said, “I can’t do that very well without telling you what the patient told me.”

“I assume, Your Honor,” Vandling said, “that there will be some question as to this conversation. I have gathered authorities and am prepared to argue the point. The statements made by the deceased at that time were part of the res gestae. At that time they were not what we would call dying declarations within the strict sense of the word, but they were part of the res gestae and I submit that the doctor’s testimony should be admitted.”

“There isn’t any objection,” Mason said, smiling. “Go right ahead.”

Vandling smiled. “I can see, Your Honor, that counsel is playing a shrewd game. He wishes us to tip our hand as fully as possible.”

“I want to get at the facts,” Mason said.

“And I want to get the facts in,” Vandling retorted.

“Then there’s no occasion for argument,” the judge rebuked. “Counsel may refrain from these personalities. Let’s get at the facts in the case. Answer the question, Doctor. Tell us what happened and you can tell us what he said.”

Dr. Renault said, “He told me that he had eaten a chocolate and had become terribly ill, that his wife was trying to poison him.”

“Did he say when he had eaten a chocolate?”

“At about seven o’clock in the morning.”

“What time was it when you saw him?”

“Between eight and nine.”

“Did he associate the chocolate with his sickness?”

“He did.”

“And just what did he tell you about it?”

“He told me that his wife had poisoned one of her relatives in order to get some money from a dying uncle, that he had recently discovered evidence that indicated she had done the poisoning and that she was intending to get rid of him, that he had tried to take precautions and that he had left a letter so that if anything happened to him the authorities would know what had happened.”

“What did you do?”

“At first I treated him for food poisoning. I thought that his ideas might have become exaggerated. Then I began to think that perhaps he actually had been poisoned. In any event, the man kept sinking, and when it appeared to me his condition was serious I telephoned for his wife. She came up and had with her a relative.”

“You told them that Mr. Davenport was dying?”

“I told them he was seriously ill.”

“And what happened?”

“Some time between two and three o’clock they called me and I rushed down to the motel. I entered the room and found Mr. Davenport dying.”

“Then what happened?”

“I took his pulse. I tried to give him a heart stimulant but he didn’t respond. He became weaker and suddenly died.”

“And what did you do, if anything?”

“I told Mrs. Davenport that under the circumstances I couldn’t sign a medical certificate, that I would have to take steps to preserve the evidence. I locked the door and left.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I notified the authorities.”

“And then what?”

“When I returned with the authorities the corpse had been moved.”

“Just a moment, Doctor,” Vandling said. “You say the corpse had been moved?”

“Exactly,” Dr. Renault announced with scientific precision. “The corpse had been moved.” He waited a moment and then repeated slowly, with emphasis on each word, “The corpse had been moved.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“Because corpses don’t get up and walk away.”

“You’re satisfied that Mr. Davenport was dead?”

“I know he was dead. I saw him die.”

“There have been cases where mistakes have been made, where a condition of coma has been mistakenly diagnosed as death?”

“I suppose so. I have never made such a mistake. I think that you will find that all of those mistakes are made when a man has been found in a cataleptic condition, or a condition of suspended animation, and the medical practitioner has been misled into assuming that death had taken place. In other words, I don’t think those conditions exist where a medical man is standing by a patient and actually sees death take place.”

“How long were you gone?” Vandling asked. “That is, how long was it from the time you announced to Mrs. Davenport that her husband had died and left the place before you returned with the authorities?”

“I presume it was something like an hour.”

“Then you are prepared to say that Mr. Davenport was dead—at what hour, Doctor?”

“I am prepared to say that he died between two-thirty and three o’clock in the afternoon. I didn’t notice my watch particularly, but it was about that time. I am prepared to state definitely that some person or persons moved his body from the place where he died and where I had left the body, before I returned about an hour later with the officers.”

“Cross-examine,” Vandling said.

Mason said, “Doctor, let’s get this straight. You first saw Ed Davenport between eight and nine in the morning?”

“That’s correct.”

“He told you that he was taken ill about seven o’clock in the morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what were his symptoms when you first treated him?”

“He was suffering from extreme weakness, a condition bordering on collapse.”

“Were any symptoms of arsenic poisoning present?”

“Not at that time. He told me that he had lost everything he had eaten, that he had been purging and vomiting, that he was feeling cold all over and that there were abdominal cramps.”

“Those were not the symptoms of arsenic poisoning?”

“I will say, Mr. Mason, that if the man had ingested arsenic poisoning at say a little before seven o’clock in the morning, that if the condition of his body had been such that a large dose of poison induced almost instantaneous nausea, it is quite possible that the regurgitation of the poison which had been ingested could have been sufficiently complete so that the symptoms would have been those as I found them.”

“Then at that time Davenport told you that he suspected his wife of trying to poison him?”

“Very definitely.”

“That he had eaten a piece of candy from a box that had been placed in his bag by his wife and that he was satisfied he had been poisoned from that piece of candy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he tell yon how it happened that he ate a piece of candy at around seven o’clock in the morning?”

“Yes, sir. He told me that he was sometimes a heavy drinker, that quite frequently when he had this overwhelming urge for alcohol that sometimes he could control it by eating large quantities of sweets.”

“So,” Mason said, “as soon as he became ill he suspected the candy?”

“Well, he didn’t say that in so many words but I gathered that was the general situation. Yes, sir.”

“And he was in a condition of shock, of extreme depression when you saw him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he showed no improvement?”

“No, sir.”

“You thought it was possible the end would come?”

“Yes, sir.”

“From this debilitation and shock rather than from arsenic poisoning?”

“Yes, sir, in view of his general physical condition.”

“So you called his wife?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you familiar with the symptoms of poisoning from cyanide of potassium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now then,” Mason said, “how does it happen, Doctor, or, rather, how do you account for the fact that if this man suspected at nine o’clock in the morning that the first piece of candy was poisoned that he would have taken another piece of candy at three o’clock in the afternoon?”

“Oh, just a moment,” Vandling said. “That question is argumentative.”

“I’m trying to test the doctor’s opinion,” Mason said.

Judge Siler, who seemed to adopt a rather passive position, hoping that counsel would get matters straightened out, looked from one to the other.

“He didn’t,” Dr. Renault snapped.

“Didn’t what?” Mason asked.

“Didn’t take another piece of candy.”

Vandling made a little gesture with his hands, sat down and smiled, said, “Well, go ahead. The doctor seems to be doing, very well.”

“You have heard the testimony of Dr. Hoxie that the man died of poisoning by cyanide of potassium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any quarrel with that statement?”

“It is not my province to quarrel with any condition found by the pathologist in making a post-mortem.”

“Well,” Mason said, “did the man die of cyanide poisoning? You saw him die. You know the symptoms. Did he exhibit symptoms of poisoning by cyanide?”

“No, sir, he did not.”

“He did not?” Mason asked.

Dr. Renault set his jaw firmly. “He did not,” he said.

“Then you don’t think poison caused his death?”

“Now, just a moment, Mr. Mason. That’s another matter. I do think poison caused his death.”

“But you don’t think it was cyanide of potassium?”

“No, sir, I do not. I think his death resulted from extreme shock following the ingestion of arsenic poisoning which had been largely eliminated from the system.”

“Now wait a minute,” Mason said. “You were the attending physician. You saw the man die.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you don’t think his death was caused by cyanide of potassium?”

“No, sir. I do not.”

“Now just a moment, Your Honor,” Vandling said. “This is developing into a situation which I hadn’t anticipated. I am afraid I have to admit that I hadn’t interrogated Dr. Renault as to the cause of death because I felt certain that the presence of poison which had been found at the time of the autopsy would completely answer the question as to the cause of death.”

“You’ll have your opportunity on redirect examination,” Mason said. “I’m asking the doctor specific questions now on cross-examination and I’m getting specific answers. I want to have those answers in the record.”

“Well, they’re in the record,” Vandling said.

“Are you trying to object to my cross-examination?” Mason asked.

Vandling sat down and said, “No, go right ahead. Let’s get the facts, whatever they are.”

Mason said, “Now, let’s get this matter straight, Doctor. You saw the man die?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are familiar with the symptoms of cyanide of potassium poisoning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you don’t think that he died from such poison?”

“I am quite certain he did not. There were none of the typical symptoms. His death was due to weakness, to shock and to an inability to recuperate from the ingestion of poison.”

“You don’t know that he took poison.”

“I know what he told me and I know what his symptoms were.”

“But most of the symptoms were those that he described to you, were they not?”

“Well, he described his symptoms, naturally. A doctor asks a patient those things.”

“You don’t know that he took any poison?”

“I know that his condition was such that it was compatible with the symptoms he had described.”

“He told you that his wife was trying to poison him. He told you that he had taken a piece of candy from a box, that shortly after taking it—”

“Immediately after taking it,” the doctor said.

“All right, immediately after taking it that he was seized with symptoms, with pains, cramps and vomiting.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it was, Davenport’s opinion this was due to arsenic poisoning?”

“To poisoning. I don’t think he mentioned arsenic. Yes, perhaps he did, too.”

“You’re the one who mentioned arsenic?”

“I may have.”

“The deceased had been in Paradise for some time?”

“So he said.”

“He was on his way to his home in Los Angeles?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he told you he had eaten a piece of candy and then become ill?”

“I’ve said that many times. Yes, sir. I think I’ve answered that question in one form or another repeatedly.”

“But you don’t know he took a piece of candy?”

“Only by what he told me.”

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that he took a piece of candy?”

“No, sir.”

“But you do know of your own knowledge that he did not die of poisoning by cyanide of potassium?”

“His symptoms were not in any way similar to those I should have expected to find from such poison. No, sir.”

Mason said, “Now I’ll go a little further with you, Doctor. You have stated that the man described his symptoms of poisoning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that his condition was compatible with such poisoning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that when you left the man at somewhere around three o’clock in the afternoon he was dead?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now then, if that is the case,” Mason said, “where did he get the meal of bacon and eggs that Dr. Hoxie found in the man’s stomach and which he estimated had been ingested shortly before death?”

“Do you want my opinion?” Dr. Renault asked.

“I’m asking you.”

“It is my opinion that his wife managed in some way, after I had left her alone with him, to get him to take some food, that that food caused his death.”

“In what manner?”

“I don’t know. I do know that I would not have approved a meal of that sort. The man was in a condition where he should have had liquids, no solids, nothing heavy. I had actually given him some intravenous nourishment.”

“How could a man who was dying from exhaustion and shock and debilitation sit up in bed and eat a meal of bacon and eggs?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know, I’m sure.”

“You can’t account for it?”

“I can’t account for it.”

“Would you say that the patient was in such a condition that he couldn’t have eaten bacon and eggs?”

Dr. Renault said, “There is no question but what the body on which the post-mortem was performed was that of the same man who had been my patient. I certainly would not have thought he could have eaten a meal of that sort. He undoubtedly was prevailed upon to do so. The meal was found in his stomach. Therefore he must have taken it. I simply wouldn’t have believed it was possible.”

“All right, let’s get certain things straight,” Mason said. “As a doctor you know that the man did not die of poisoning by cyanide of potassium?”

“I feel certain he did not.”

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that he ever ate any candy, do you?”

“Not of my own knowledge.”

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that he ingested any poison at all?”

“Well….well, I can’t swear to it, of course. I wasn’t there.”

“For all that you know of your own knowledge, Doctor, Edward Davenport may have contracted a typical case of food poisoning. He may have attributed that to poison which had been administered by his wife, and he may have been quite mistaken.”

“As far as I know of my own knowledge.”

“It is a frequent occurrence, is it not, Doctor, for a man to suffer food poisoning and to think that the food may have been deliberately poisoned rather than merely contaminated?”

“I suppose so.”

“Have you ever encountered such a case in your practice?”

“I—yes, I believe I have.”

“And you know that Edward Davenport didn’t die from cyanide of potassium poisoning?”

“I am certain he didn’t.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“Now just a moment,” Vandling said, as Dr. Renault started to leave the stand. “I want to question you, Doctor. I have talked with you before, have I not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And at no time did you tell me that Mr. Davenport’s death was not due to cyanide of potassium poisoning?”

“You didn’t ask me specifically,” Dr. Renault said. “I will state by way of explanation that I felt his wife had administered poison, that the poisoning had been fatal, that in my opinion the man could well have died because of the after effects of that poison or that a second dose of poison could have been administered shortly before his death. I used the word poison. I did not say cyanide of potassium and you did not ask me. I told you specifically that in my opinion the man could have died solely because his system failed to rally from the shock of the effects of poison which had been administered in a piece of candy at about seven o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes, I guess you did,” Vandling admitted, “but you didn’t tell me specifically that he couldn’t have died from cyanide poisoning.”

“I wasn’t asked. I see no reason to come into conflict with some other physician unless the question is asked me under such circumstances that I cannot avoid answering. Mr. Mason asked me a specific question and I gave him a specific answer. I had determined that I would give that answer if the questions were asked and I couldn’t avoid it. I was with the man when he passed away. That death might have been due to some poison which acted upon the heart or it could have been due to the shock of the earlier poison, but the symptoms of death which I would have expected had cyanide of potassium been administered were not present, not at that time.”

“You know how much cyanide was found in the man’s stomach at the time of the autopsy?”

“I do,”

“And that was an amount sufficient to cause death?”

“Very definitely.”

“So that—now wait,” Vandling said. “If the man hadn’t died from cyanide poisoning he would have died from cyanide poisoning. I mean that he had enough cyanide in his system to have killed him even if you don’t think he died from cyanide poisoning.”

“I object to the question,” Mason said, “as being argumentative, as not being proper cross-examination, and as being completely ambiguous. The question is not what the man would have died from if he hadn’t died from something else. It’s a question of what caused his death.”

“I think so,” Judge Siler said. “I’ll sustain the objection to the question in that form.”

Vandling said, “Your Honor, this is a most peculiar situation. Dr. Hoxie is a very competent physician and toxicologist. He has testified to finding enough poison in the stomach of the dead man to have caused his death. He specifically names that poison as cyanide of potassium, a very quick acting, fatal poison. Dr. Renault now offers it as his opinion that the man did not die from cyanide poisoning. It is, of course, only his opinion.”

“He is a physician. He has given his opinion,” Judge Siler said.

“And he was your witness,” Mason added.

“Your Honor,” Vandling said, “I think under the circumstances the prosecution is justified in asking a continuance of this matter.

“I will state frankly that at this time the dismissal of proceedings in this case would not constitute a bar to a further prosecution. I could dismiss this complaint right now and arrest this woman on the same charge tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Mason asked.

“I’m not ready to do it yet. I want to investigate the case a little further. I may state, Your Honor, that in a sense I am bound by the fact that, Dr. Renault is my witness. If I had simply placed Dr. Hoxie on the stand and shown the cause of death by the autopsy, if I had shown the presence of poison in the candy and the fingerprints of the defendant upon that candy, particularly after she had stated that she had never opened the box of candy, I would have established a prima facie case.”

“Do you want to ask me to bind the defendant over on the evidence in the case as it now stands?” Judge Siler asked.

“I don’t know, Your Honor,” Vandling said. “The situation is somewhat complicated. The record now shows that Dr.Renault was called as my witness and that he has now stated positively that in his opinion the man did not die from poisoning by cyanide.”

“And,” Mason pointed out, “your own doctor couldn’t find any evidence of chocolate candy in the stomach of the decedent.”

“I would like to withdraw Dr. Renault from the stand and ask Dr. Hoxie to return, and ask him one question,” Vandling said.

“Is there any objection?” Judge Siler asked.

Mason smiled. “No objection. Your Honor.”

“Step down, Dr. Renault, if you will, please. Dr. Hoxie, will you come forward? You have already been sworn, Doctor. I just want to ask you a question.”

Dr. Hoxie marched up to the witness stand. He was bristling with professional indignation.

“You have heard Dr. Renault’s testimony?” Vandling said.

“I have,” Dr. Hoxie snapped.

“Do you have any doubt as to the cause of death in this case?”

“None whatever. The man whom I autopsied died of poisoning by cyanide of potassium.”

“That is, there was enough cyanide of potassium in his stomach to have caused death?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now I’m going to ask you another question. It’s rather farfetched and it may be rather gruesome. Would it be possible for a person to pump out the stomach of a cadaver?”

“Why, certainly.”

“All right. Would it be possible for a person to pump something else into the stomach of the cadaver?”

Dr. Hoxie hesitated. “Are you asking me now,” he said at length, “whether I think that that could have been done in this case?”

“I’m asking you as to a general possibility.”

“I presume it’s possible generally. I will state, however, that in my opinion Edward Davenport died of the effects of cyanide of potassium. Not only was the poison present, but there were symptoms present, the evidence of froth, the characteristic odor, the general symptoms. In my opinion the man died almost immediately after ingesting a very large dose of cyanide of potassium. He had been drinking for an hour or so before his death. He had also eaten bacon and eggs an hour or so before his death.”

Vandling explained to Judge Siler, “I am trying. Your Honor to get at the facts in this case. I want to get a solution of a seemingly contradictory situation.”

“There’s nothing contradictory as far as I am concerned,” Dr. Hoxie said. “In my opinion the man died of poisoning by cyanide of potassium. The conditions were all there. The poison was there. The man simply couldn’t have lived after having ingested the amount of poison that I found in his stomach. All of the conditions of cyanic poisoning were present. In my opinion it was the cause of death, regardless of what anyone else may say to the contrary.”

“Do you have any further questions or cross- examination?” Vandling asked Mason.

“Do you think the poison was ingested in a piece of candy?” Mason asked.

“I do not.”

“Would you say it was not?”

“I would say that I don’t think the poison was taken in candy. I think death was very rapid and I found no evidence of candy although I tried very carefully to find candy in the stomach content.”

“How do you think the poison was taken?”

“I don’t think it was taken in food. It may have been administered in whisky. There was whisky in the stomach and alcohol in the blood. I have one other theory which is a possibility which I don’t care to state.”

Mason thought that over, then said, “Is that theory that the dead man could have been given a straight dose of poison—let us say as a medicine?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all, Doctor,” Mason said, smiling.

“Just one question on redirect, Doctor,” Vandling said triumphantly. “Then, in your opinion, it is possible the defendant could have given Edward Davenport this poison under the guise of medicine?”

“No.”

“What? I thought you just said the cyanide could have been given as medicine.”

“I did, but not by Mrs. Davenport, because she wasn’t in the room within the necessary time limit. My opinion is that Edward Davenport lived less than two minutes after ingesting that poison.”

“Any more questions on cross-examination?” Vandling asked Mason.

“None whatsoever,” Mason said. “You’re doing fine. Go right ahead. It’s your omelette. Try to unscramble it.”

“I’d like to ask for a continuance,” Vandling said. “It is past the noon hour now, Your Honor. Court usually adjourns until two o’clock. I am going to ask the Court to adjourn until four o’clock this afternoon.”

“Does the defense have any objections?” Judge Siler asked.

“I think not, under the circumstances,” Mason said. “In fact we’ll grant a continuance until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock if the prosecution wishes.”

“I should like to have such a continuance provided it is stipulated that … I would prefer to have the motion come from the defendant,” Vandling said.

“I’ll make such a motion,” Mason said promptly.

“Very well,” Judge Siler ruled. “On the motion of the defendant case is continued until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. The defendant will remain in custody. Court’s adjourned.”

Vandling looked across at Mason. “Well,” he said, “I had been warned to expect the unexpected in dealing with you, but this is the damnedest thing I’ve ever encountered in all my career.”

Mason smiled. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Vandling said. “I can get her bound over, but in view of the testimony of Dr. Renault I’d have a hell of a time getting her convicted in front of a jury.”

“Well, at least you’re frank,” Mason told him.

“There’s no use trying to cover things up with you,” Vandling said. “You know as well as I do what would happen if a situation like this developed in front of a jury.”

“Are you going to dismiss the case?”

“I don’t think so. I walked into this thing with my eyes shut. I think probably I can put on a case before a jury without calling Dr. Renault, and force you to call him as your witness.”

“And then what?” Mason asked.

“Then,” Vandling said, lowering his voice, “I’d attack his professional competency. I don’t think he’s too highly regarded in medical circles here. He’s drifted around. He’s a mature man, yet he’s only practiced in Crampton for three years. I believe he was in trouble over narcotics at one time. That’s why Dr. Hoxie became so indignant at the idea of his findings being questioned by a man who had no more professional standing than Dr. Renault.”

“Dr. Renault seemed positive enough,” Mason said.

“He sure was positive enough.”

“And then, of course,” Mason went on, “you have the spectacle of the corpse climbing out of the window.”

Vandling frowned. “It’s a strange case. Someone might have pushed the corpse through the window, then impersonated the dead man. I asked for a continuance because I have a plan in mind. You might be surprised if you knew what I was thinking right now.”

“I may not know what you’re thinking,” Mason said, “but I’ll bet five dollars I know what you’re going to do.”

“What?”

“You’re going to call the district attorney of Los Angeles County and suggest that there are a few technical matters that are bothering you in this case up here, and that under the circumstances you think it would be better to have the Los Angeles grand jury indict Myrna Davenport for the murder of Hortense Paxton and try her down there on that charge first.”

Vandling threw back his head and laughed. “Well,” he said, “I’d been warned that you’d anticipate my every move. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go telephone.”

As Vandling walked away, Mason turned to the officer. “Just a moment, I want to confer with my client before you take her back to jail.”

He took Mrs. Davenport’s arm, took her over to a deserted corner of the courtroom and said, “What was this you were telling me, that you had never opened that box of candy?”

“Mr. Mason, I’m telling you the truth. I never opened that box of candy.”

“Your fingerprints got on the candy,” Mason said.

“There’s something wrong. Those can’t be my fingerprints. They have been forged in some way.”

Mason said, “The question of forged fingerprints comes up every once in a while, but so far as I know there’s never been a case on record where a jury has held that a defendant’s fingerprints were successfully forged. Not when the fingerprints were left in place. When they have been lifted there’s another angle to the case. These prints are in place.”

Myrna Davis lowered her eyes. “Well,” she said in her low voice, “those aren’t my fingerprints. They can’t be.”

“Because you didn’t open the box of candy?”

“Because I didn’t open the box of candy.”

Sara Ansel came bustling forward from the back of the courtroom where she had been seated as a spectator.

“Mr. Mason,” she said, “may I talk with you?”

Mason nodded.

She pushed her way through the swinging gate and entered the railed enclosure reserved for officers of the court.

“Mr. Mason. I know, I absolutely know that Myrna didn’t do any of those things they claim she did. She didn’t feed Ed Davenport any bacon and eggs. He didn’t eat a thing while we were there. He was barely conscious and could hardly talk and she didn’t enter that room after Dr. Renault had left. She—”

Myrna looked coldly at Sara Ansel. “Go away,” she said.

Sara Ansel said, “Myrna, my dear, I’m trying to help you.”

“You’ve done everything you could to betray me,” she said.

“Myrna, do you realize what you’re saying?”

“Of course I do.”

Sara Ansel said, “You can’t. You’re upset and excited. Now, Myrna, dear, I know how your prints got on the candy. You gave Ed a full box, all right. You put it in his suitcase. But there was another partially filled box in the living room. You and I had been eating candy. There were two boxes in the living room, both partially empty. You consolidated those two partially empty boxes. So your fingerprints were on some of those candies you handled. Ed must have taken that box you consolidated as well as the one you packed in his suitcase.

“Then while he was in Paradise he must have eaten that fresh box you had put in his suitcase. That left the other box in his suitcase—the one you had consolidated from the two partially empty boxes.

“I’m almost certain that box the officers have now is the one you fixed up from the two open boxes. I could almost swear to it.”

Without a word to Sara Ansel, Myrna turned to the officer. “Will you please take me back to jail?” she said. “I’m tired.”

The officer led Myrna Davenport away. Sara Ansel turned to Mason and said angrily, “Well, can you beat that!. Here I try to be of some help to her and I get slapped down like that.”

“Well,” Mason said, “you have to admit that you tried to do everything you could to help the Los Angeles authorities make a case against her.”

“That was when I was excited and—the poor child. She never harmed a fly. I am sorry. I am terribly sorry for what I did, Mr. Mason, but I’m certainly not going to go around turning the other cheek to that mousy little nincompoop. Why, if it hadn’t been for me Ed Davenport would have robbed her blind. He’d have had her funds so involved she wouldn’t have had a cent in the world except what he was willing to give her, and then he’d have left her. I know it just as well as I know anything. I’ve been around men enough to know them.”

“Are you going to be here for a while?” Mason asked.

“Certainly. You heard what the judge said. I’ve got to be here.”

“I may want to talk with you,” Mason told her.

“Well, you’ll find me at the Hotel Fresno.”

“Thanks, you may be seeing me. I may want to ask you some more questions—about the candy.”