The Case of the Shapely Shadow

Chapter Fourteen

Thirty seconds before nine-thirty a.m. and after the courtroom was filled with restless, whispering spectators; after counsel were at their places at the table; after the jurors had all been seated and in that moment of tense expectation when they waited for Judge Seymour to take the bench, Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, came striding through the side door of the courtroom and seated himself at the prosecutor’s table.

The arrival of the district attorney caused a veritable buzz of comment and it was in the middle of this buzz that the bailiff pounded his gavel and said, “Everybody stand up, please.”

Judge Seymour entered the courtroom, nodded to the jurors and the spectators, said, “Be seated, please. The case of the People versus Janice Wainwright. The defendant is in court, the jurors are all present. Proceed with your case, Mr. Prosecutor.”

“I will call Lieutenant Sophia of the Las Vegas police force,” Ruskin said.

The officer came forward, was sworn and was asked by Ruskin whether or not the defendant had made any statement when she had been arrested in Las Vegas, Nevada.

“She did.”

“Was that statement voluntary?”

“It was.”

“Were there any threats?”

“No.”

“Were any inducements held out?”

“There were no inducements and no promises. No threats were made. She was advised of her rights. In fact, she had previously been advised by her attorney not to make any statement — to say nothing.”

“But she did make a statement?”

“She made a statement to Lieutenant Tragg and to me.”

“And there were no inducements of any sort held out?”

“No inducements of any sort. I simply told her that if she was innocent she had nothing to fear, and that if she wanted to make a statement that would convince us of her innocence, the matter wouldn’t go any farther. We’d let her step out of the car and go back to keep her appointment.”

“Very well. Will you tell the Court and the jury what she said?”

“Do you wish to cross-examine on the voir dire?” Judge Seymour asked Mason.

“No, Your Honor. If the defendant said anything, let’s hear what she said.”

“Proceed,” Ruskin said to the witness.

“Well, she said that her employer, Mr. Theilman, had told her not to open any letters which came from A. B. Vidal; that an envelope came from Vidal; that she didn’t open it, but that later on she saw that Mr. Theilman had torn this letter up and put it in the wastebasket; that she had seen it there; that she was curious; that she had put the pieces together; that the letter contained a message telling Theilman to have the blackmail money on pain of death.

“She said that Theilman had then sent her out to buy a suitcase; that when she returned with the suitcase she retained one key and gave Theilman the suitcase with the other key. She said that Theilman apparently never thought about the missing key and didn’t ask her for it; that he took the suitcase, was in his private office for a few minutes, then brought out the suitcase; that at that time it was quite heavy; that it must have weighed twenty-five or thirty pounds; that the suitcase was locked. He told her to take the suitcase and go to the Union Depot and put the suitcase in locker number FO82. She was to take the key to the locker and mail it to A. B. Vidal at General Delivery, Los Angeles. In the event locker FO82 was already occupied, she was to take any one of the other four adjacent lockers in the same tier on the left.”

“And did she tell you what she did?”

“She said she took the suitcase, that she took a cab and went at once to the office of Perry Mason; that she told Mr. Mason she suspected her employer was being blackmailed; that she produced her extra key to the suitcase; that Mr. Mason opened it in her presence and in the presence of Miss Street; that the suitcase was filled with twenty-dollar bills; that they spent several minutes reading numbers from the twenty-dollar bills.

“She said that they read these numbers into a dictating machine and also into a tape recorder; that they then closed and locked the suitcase and Mr. Mason retained the key; that the defendant and Della Street went to the Union Depot, put the suitcase in a locker, and that Della Street was the one who mailed the locker key to A. B. Vidal; that thereafter the witness returned to the office; and that shortly after her return and immediately after lunch, Mr. Theilman stated that he was going home. A short time later he phoned to say he wouldn’t be back in the office.

“The defendant further stated that she didn’t see Mr. Theilman after that, that was the last time she saw him alive; that at about eight-forty on the morning of the fourth she talked with Mr. Mason on the phone, telling him that police had been at the office asking questions about Mr. Theilman; that his wife had reported him missing; that Mason told her not to lie to the police but not to be too available, and not to tell them things unless she was specifically asked about those things.

“She said that almost immediately after she had finished talking with Mr. Mason, Mr. Theilman called her on the telephone.”

“Now, just a moment. Let’s not have any misunderstanding about this,” Ruskin said. “She said that Mr. Theilman called her on the telephone?”

“Yes.”

“And at what time?”

“Immediately after she had finished talking with Perry Mason. She placed the time of her call to Perry Mason at about twenty minutes before nine o’clock in the morning, and placed Mr. Theilman’s call at being perhaps two or three minutes after she had finished talking with Mr. Mason.”

“And what did she say Mr. Theilman told her?”

“Mr. Theilman instructed her to go to the safe, to take two hundred and fifty dollars out of the petty cash drawer, to get a ticket to Las Vegas on an evening plane that night and to meet the Union Pacific Domeliner, The City of Los Angeles, when it came through at eleven-twenty that evening; he told her that his first wife, Carlotta Theilman, would be on that train; that the defendant was to meet her and take her to a hotel Mrs. Theilman would designate.

“According to her story, after they were located in this hotel in Las Vegas, she was to go to the Western Union Telegraph office and send a telegram to Theilman, care of Western Union at Las Vegas, telling him where they were registered; that thereafter the defendant was to remain in the company of Carlotta Theilman until she received different instructions.

“The witness further stated that Theilman told her he was trying to consummate a stock deal with his former wife by which he would either get possession of the stock or be given the exclusive voting privileges on that stock.”

“That was all?”

“That was substantially all,” the witness said.

“Cross-examine,” Ruskin snapped.

Mason glanced at the clock, seemed tremendously bored, said, “I have no questions.”

“Very well,” Ruskin said. “Now, I don’t want to embarrass counsel by putting him on the stand as a witness in a case in which he is representing a defense client. I will, therefore, offer to stipulate with counsel that he and his secretary did make tape recordings and records of certain numbers on the twenty-dollar bills which were in the suitcase that was taken to his office by the defendant; that Mr. Mason and his secretary, Della Street, were subpoenaed on the fifth with subpoenas duces tecum ordering them to appear forthwith before the grand jury, bringing those records with them; that in response to those subpoenas Mr. Mason and his secretary did so appear and produced certain records in the form of tape recordings and the disc from a dictating machine.

“I will further stipulate that I have here a list of numbers of twenty-dollar bills which were taken from the tape recording and the disc. They are arranged for purposes of easy reference. I will assure counsel that these are an accurate transcription of the records which they surrendered to the grand jury and I will ask counsel to stipulate that they may be received in evidence as such, in order to avoid the embarrassment of having counsel or his secretary called as a witness.”

“We appreciate the situation,” Mason said, “and thank counsel for his courtesy. If the prosecutor will assure me that to his knowledge these represent an accurate transcription of the records which we turned over to the grand jury, we will so stipulate.”

“I make such representation and statement,” Ruskin said.

“Very well,” Mason said. “We will stipulate these lists may be received in evidence.”

Judge Seymour said, “It is so ordered. They will be received in evidence as People’s Exhibit, appropriate number. Call your next witness, Mr. Prosecutor.”

With an air of evident triumph, Ruskin said, “Call Dudley Roberts.”

Roberts came forward and was sworn.

“Where do you reside?” Ruskin asked.

“Las Vegas, Nevada.”

“Are you familiar with Perry Mason?”

“I am.”

“And his secretary, Della Street? I will ask Della Street to stand up, please.”

Della Street stood up.

“Yes, I know them both,” Roberts said.

“When did you first see them?”

“On the evening of Wednesday, the fourth.”

“Where?”

“In Las Vegas. They rented my cab.”

“Now then,” Ruskin said triumphantly, “I will show you a twenty-dollar bill, number G78342831A, and ask you if you have ever seen that currency before?”

“I have. It has my initials in the corner.”

“And where did you get that bill?”

“It was given me by Perry Mason in payment of cab fare,” Roberts said.

“Cross-examine,” Ruskin snapped.

Mason got up and walked over to stand in front of the witness. For a long moment he studied the witness carefully.

“Mr. Roberts,” he said, “how many times did I ride with you on the evening of the fourth after Miss Street and I started for the airport?”

“You and Miss Street rode with me from the Double Take Casino down to the police station. First you started to the airport; then you changed your mind and decided to go to the police station.”

“Exactly,” Mason said, “and when did you next have me as a passenger?”

“We waited at the police station and then you picked up a woman there at the police station and took off down the street. The police tried to stop you, but you told me to step on it.”

“And where did we go?”

“You told me to go to the first motel which had a vacancy sign and you stopped there.”

“And told you to wait?”

“Yes.”

“And you waited?”

“Well, I telephoned.”

“To whom did you telephone?”

“I telephoned the police station and told them that the man they had tried to stop had had me drive him to this motel and that you were inside. I have to live in Las Vegas and I’m not going to quarrel with the Las Vegas police.”

“So you deemed it necessary to tell them where I was.”

“I thought it advisable.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, a police car came and the police car took you and the young woman with you down to the airport.”

“What did you do?”

“I took this woman who had been with you, the older woman, back to the Double Take Casino.”

“Now then, I paid you for the trip, did I not?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t you remember that I paid you in silver dollars? Don’t you remember that we had a conversation in which I asked you if you objected to being paid in silver dollars and you said the only thing you objected to being paid in was in I.O.U.’s or promissory notes?”

“That’s right. That, however, was the time you rode with me to the police station. You paid me this twenty-dollar bill when I took you from the airport to the railroad depot at Las Vegas.”

“And when did you first know that I had paid you this twenty-dollar bill?”

“Well, the police asked me the next day to look through my take of the night before and sure enough, I had this twenty-dollar bill — the one they wanted.”

“It was identified by the number?”

“That’s right.”

“But you didn’t look at the number when I gave you the bill, did you?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know that was the same twenty-dollar bill that I gave you?”

“It had to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it was that twenty-dollar bill.”

“What is there distinctive about it that you remember?”

“I remember I got it from you.”

“But how do you differentiate that twenty-dollar bill from any other twenty dollars?”

“It was the only one I had the next morning.”

“You mean I am the only one who gave you a twenty-dollar bill that night?”

“That’s right.”

“Think carefully,” Mason said, “didn’t anyone else give you a twenty-dollar bill?”

“No. This was the only one.”

“Now, let’s get this straight,” Mason said. “When I paid you that twenty-dollar bill, you didn’t pay any particular attention to it.”

“The deuce I didn’t,” the witness said. “It was a twenty-dollar bill and you told me to keep the change. Whenever a fare tells me to keep the change from a twenty-dollar bill, I remember it.”

“No, no,” Mason said, “what I am getting at is you didn’t look at the number when I gave you the bill.”

“No, I didn’t look at the number. I put it in my pocket.”

“Then how do you know this is the same twenty-dollar bill that I gave you?”

“Because it’s the only twenty-dollar bill I had in my pocket the next morning when the police asked me to check.”

“Now the second time,” Mason said, “I paid you in silver dollars.”

“That’s right. There’s no question about that. You went down to the police station. You started for the airport, then changed your mind and had me go to the police station. You gave me some silver dollars. You had me wait there.

“Then this woman came out of the police station, this older woman. You hustled her into the cab. She thought the cab was empty when she saw me coming.

“You got her in the cab and told me to step on it. The police ran to the door and tried to stop you when they saw that it wasn’t a vacant cab, but you told me to just keep right on going down the street.”

“So what did you do?” Mason asked.

“So I went on down the street until you told me to stop at a motel that had a sign of a vacancy on it. You folks went in there and started talking, and I went to a phone and called the police station and told them where you were.”

“And that phone call resulted in a police car coming out there to the motel?”

“I presume it did. The police came out and picked you up and told you they were going to take you down to the airport personally and see that you got out of town.”

“So this twenty dollars that I gave you had to be the first twenty dollars; that is, it had to be in payment of the first trip.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you all along.”

“That was the only twenty dollars you had in your pocket the next morning?”

“That’s right.”

“Now think carefully,” Mason said. “Didn’t you spend something during the evening of the fourth?”

The witness shook his head.

“Think,” Mason said.

“No, I... well, now wait a minute...”

“Yes, go on,” Mason said, as the witness hesitated.

“I... I bought myself a good dinner. I’d had a good evening and I thought I was entitled to a steak. I bought a steak. I think I paid for that with a ten-dollar bill.”

“It could have been a twenty?”

“No, I think it was a ten.”

“Now, after I went to the airport, what did you do?”

“I was there at this motel and the little lady that you’d picked up at the police station was there at the motel.”

“And what happened?”

“She wanted me to take her to the Double Take Casino, and I took her there.”

“She paid you?”

“Of course she paid me. I was running a taxicab.”

“And how did she pay you?”

“In money,” the cabdriver said angrily.

“What I am trying to get at,” Mason said, “is whether she paid you the exact amount, or whether she gave you a bill and you had to make change.”

“She gave me — I don’t remember. She may have had the exact change. I think she gave me some one-dollar bills. I’m not sure.”

“Couldn’t she have given you this twenty-dollar bill?”

“I tell you,” the witness said, “I only had the one twenty-dollar bill in my pocket. I remember you gave me a twenty-dollar bill and told me to keep it. The next morning the police asked me to look through my pockets for twenty-dollar bills and to give them the numbers of the bills. I had this one bill in my pocket and I gave them the number and they had me write my initials on it and took the bill and gave me two tens in place of it.”

“Now, if this woman who was at the motel, whose name, by the way, is Mrs. Theilman, had given you a twenty-dollar bill when you took her to the casino and you had given her change for that bill, and then when you had a steak that night you had paid for it with one of the twenty-dollar bills you had in your pocket, it is possible that this bill could have been given you by Mrs. Theilman. Isn’t that right?”

The witness said, “Sure, that’s right. And if John D. Rockefeller had given me a million dollars, I’d have been a millionaire.”

The courtroom broke into laughter.

Judge Seymour tapped his pencil. “There is no occasion for levity,” he said.

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “I ask the indulgence of the Court in connection with this cross-examination. I feel that as a matter of ethics an attorney should not take the stand, and if he is forced to take the stand, he should then not argue the case to the jury. Because I wish to avoid taking the stand myself, I am trying to clear this matter up by a detailed cross-examination.”

Judge Seymour nodded, said, “You may proceed, Mr. Mason. The Court appreciates your position and I think there is no reason to make any further explanation in the presence of the jury. Proceed with your cross-examination.”

“I would like an answer to my question,” Mason said.

“If your fare to the casino had given you a twenty-dollar bill, isn’t it possible that you could have spent the twenty-dollar bill I gave you when you got your steak dinner?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Will you say it’s impossible?”

“All right,” the witness said, “I’ll say it’s impossible. She didn’t give me any twenty-dollar bill. That was the only twenty-dollar bill I had the next morning.”

“It may have been the only twenty-dollar bill you had the next morning,” Mason said, “but you can’t swear you didn’t spend twenty dollars when you paid for your steak dinner, can you?”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Can you swear that you didn’t?”

“Well, I can’t swear absolutely, positively that I didn’t, no. I don’t think I did, though. In fact, I’m positive I didn’t.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

Ruskin said suavely, “Well, if you’re positive you didn’t, you can now swear that you didn’t, isn’t that right, Mr. Roberts?”

“Objected to,” Mason said, “as leading and suggestive.”

“It is leading and suggestive,” Judge Seymour said.

“But this is on redirect examination.”

“That doesn’t make any difference. You can’t put words into the mouth of the witness. He’s your witness.”

“Well, did she give you a twenty-dollar bill and you gave her change?” Ruskin asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I’m positive she didn’t.”

“That’s all,” Ruskin said.

“Will you swear she didn’t?” Mason asked, smiling.

“All right,” the witness shouted, “I’ll swear she didn’t.”

“A few moments before you said you wouldn’t swear she didn’t,” Mason said. “Now what has changed your mind? Is it the fact that the prosecutor quite obviously wants you to so swear?”

“I object to that,” Ruskin shouted. “That is not proper cross-examination and it isn’t a question of what I want him to swear to.”

“It goes to his bias,” Judge Seymour said. “I think the situation here is obvious, however. Answer the question, Mr. Roberts. The objection is overruled.”

“I’m willing to swear that she didn’t because I know she didn’t. I’m positive of it now. The more I think of it, the more positive I become,” Roberts said.

Ruskin grinned at Mason.

“You’d been thinking of it ever since the fourth of the month, hadn’t you?” Mason asked.

“Off and on.”

“And you weren’t willing to swear that she didn’t give you a twenty-dollar bill a few minutes ago.”

“Well, I’m swearing to it now,” the witness said.

“Because I’ve made you angry?” Mason asked.

“I’m swearing to it.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“No further questions,” Ruskin observed.

“Call Louise Pickens,” Ruskin said.

Louise Pickens was a very attractive, curvaceous young woman bubbling good nature and friendliness. The minute she walked forward and held up her hand, took the oath, seated herself and smiled at the jurors, the jurors relaxed their positions and started smiling.

“What’s your occupation?” Ruskin asked.

“I’m a policewoman.”

“Now, I am going to ask you if you are familiar with the words of the message which was testified to as having been on the paper found by Mrs. Theilman in her husband’s pocket.”

“Yes.”

“And did you make any experiments in duplicating that message?”

“I did.”

“What were those experiments?”

“I purchased a Los Angeles Times and a Los Angeles Examiner under date of Tuesday, the third, and found that it was possible to reconstruct that message from words in the headlines of the two papers.”

“And you did so construct such a message?”

“I did.”

“Do you have it with you?”

“I do.”

“May we see it, please?”

“Now, just a moment,” Mason said, “I object to this on the ground that it is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. The fact that the message could have been so constructed is certainly not binding on this defendant.”

“I propose to connect it up,” Ruskin said.

“I think I’ll permit it, Mr. Mason,” Judge Seymour said, “particularly on the strength of counsel’s assurance that it will be connected up. I think it’s within the province of the prosecution’s case to prove how the message could have been constructed. Of course, the jurors will understand that that doesn’t necessarily mean the message was constructed in that way. The objection is overruled.”

Louise Pickens produced the message.

“I move this be received in evidence as People’s Exhibit, appropriate number.”

“I think it is M-i,” the clerk said.

“Very well, it will be received as People’s Exhibit M-1.”

“Subject to the defendant’s objection, if the Court please,” Mason said.

“Subject to the defendant’s objection, which is overruled. It will go in evidence,” Judge Seymour ruled.

“You may inquire,” Ruskin said.

“No questions,” Mason said.

Ruskin looked at the clock, then leaned forward, whispered to Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, for a moment, then said to the Court, “May we have the indulgence of the Court for a moment, please?”

Judge Seymour nodded.

Ruskin and Hamilton Burger engaged in a lengthy whispered conference, from time to time looking at the clock.

At length Burger arose. “If the Court please,” he said, “we have about finished with our case but there is a certain matter of policy which we would like to discuss. Would it be possible for us to ask the Court to adjourn until two o’clock?”

Judge Seymour shook his head. “It is not yet eleven, gentlemen,” he said. “We have a backlog of cases. The courts are all starting half an hour earlier in order to try and get caught up and I don’t feel that I can delay this case. I suggest that you put on some other witness and then you can discuss your strategy during the noon hour.”

Again Burger and Ruskin engaged in a hurried whispered conference. Then Burger said, “Call Wilbur Kenney.”

As Wilbur Kenney came forward and held up his right hand to be sworn, Janice Wainwright whispered to Perry Mason, “Why, he’s the man who has the newsstand at the corner by the office.”

“What’s your occupation?” Burger asked.

“I’m a newsdealer, if you want to put it that way. I peddle papers and a few magazines. I have a corner newsstand.”

“Are you acquainted with the defendant?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve known her for years.”

“Referring to the morning of the third, that would be Tuesday, did you see the defendant?”

“I did.”

“What did she do, if anything?”

“She bought a copy of the Times and the Examiner.”

“And then what?”

“Then she went into the dime store across the street.”

“Then what?”

“Then she went up to her office building and entered the office building.”

“Did you see her again that morning?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“About half an hour later.”

“What did she do?”

“Came down and bought another copy of the Times and another copy of the Examiner.”

There was a startled gasp from spectators in the courtroom as the significance of the testimony began to sink in.

“Now, this was on Tuesday, the third, at about what time?”

“Right around eight-forty-five in the morning. She came to work at eight-thirty and spoke to me as she passed. Then she came down and bought these papers, went across to the dime store, then went up in the office building and came down in about half an hour and bought two more papers.”

“Did she make any statement to you in connection with the second purchase?”

“She said there was some stuff in the papers she’d been cutting out.”

“Thank you,” Hamilton Burger said, and turned triumphantly to Perry Mason. “You may inquire.”

“No questions,” Mason said.

“Call Lucille Rankin,” Hamilton Burger said.

Lucille Rankin came forward and was sworn. “Have you ever seen the defendant in this case before?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the five-ten-fifteen-twenty-five-cent and dollar store where I work.”

“When did you see her?”

“On Tuesday, the third.”

“At what time?”

“At approximately eight-forty-five.”

“Did you have any business transactions with her?”

“Yes.”

“What were they?”

“I sold her a pair of scissors.”

“Was there any conversation?”

“Yes, she said she wanted a pair of small scissors that would cut pieces out of a newspaper.”

“Did you observe anything under her arm at the time she made this statement?”

“Yes. She had two newspapers folded under her left arm.”

“Cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.

“No questions,” Mason observed affably.

Hamilton Burger said triumphantly, “That concludes the prosecution’s case.”

Mason arose, looked at the clock. “If the Court please, it is rather unusual for a murder case to be handled in such an expeditious manner. The defense is taken somewhat by surprise. I would like to ask for an adjournment until two o’clock this afternoon so that I may confer with my client.”

Judge Seymour shook his head. “We’re trying to get the calendar caught up, Mr. Mason. I admit that it’s unusual for a case of this magnitude to be handled in this expeditious manner, but we still have a good hour. I will state, however, that it is time for us to take our usual morning recess and in place of the usual ten-minute recess I will make it a twenty-minute recess, and that will give you time to confer with your client.”

Judge Seymour turned to the jury. “The Court will take a recess for twenty minutes during which time you will again remember the admonition of the Court not to discuss the case, or permit it to be discussed in your presence, or to form or express any opinion.”

Judge Seymour arose and left the bench.

As the courtroom cleared of spectators, Mason turned to Janice Wainwright. “Well, Janice?” he asked in a whisper.

“Mr. Mason,” she said, “they’re making that look something terrible, but actually it was just an innocent errand that I ran for Mr. Theilman.”

“Go on,” Mason said, “keep talking.”

“Mr. Theilman asked me to run down and get him the morning papers, both of them, and said there was some stuff he wanted to cut out about a real estate development and asked me to get him some scissors. I had to go out and buy some because I’d broken the office pair a few days before.”

“Then what?” Mason asked.

“After I returned to the office, he asked me to go down and get two more papers.”

“What became of those papers?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. He never put them in the wastebasket, I’m certain of that. But usually he didn’t throw papers in the wastebasket. He would keep old newspapers in the closet. He had a pile of them, and then the janitor would remove them after the pile got so big. We’d save them for wrapping and things of that sort, and sometimes Mr. Theilman would want to refer to a back issue of the paper in order to check some of the real estate ads. But after he’d cut things out of papers usually he put those papers in the wastebasket, only this time he didn’t.”

Mason said, “Janice, I’m going to have to put you on the stand. You must realize that the circumstantial evidence is very black against you. Now, you have an explanation of sorts for everything — ‘Theilman said this, Theilman told me to do that, Theilman told me to do the other, I was following Mr. Theilman’s instructions.’

“Now Mr. Theilman is dead. You can understand what the prosecution is going to do to you once you get on the witness stand. They’re going to insist that you have fabricated a story in which you have deliberately made all the explanations dependent upon what Theilman told you, and that the reason you have done that is because Theilman is dead and can’t contradict you.

“Under those circumstances everything depends on the impression you make on the jurors. You can’t afford to lose your temper, you can’t afford to get hysterical, you can’t afford to start crying. You’ve got to stand up there and take it on the chin.

“You understand that?”

“Yes.”

“Can you do it?”

“Mr. Mason, I... I’m afraid I can’t.”

“I’m afraid you can’t, either,” Mason said grimly. “All right, Janice. You have about fifteen minutes left to start thinking things over. Become composed. Get your story together. I’ve carried the ball up to this point. After court reconvenes you’ll have to carry the ball. Now you sit there and think things over.”

Mason walked away from her and over to where Paul Drake and Della Street were standing.

“Not so good, Perry,” Paul Drake said. “That last was a real bombshell.”

Mason said, “She says she was getting the papers for Mr. Theilman.”

“And very conveniently Mr. Theilman isn’t in a position to contradict her,” Paul Drake said dryly. “I think your client is a liar.”

Mason said, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from practicing law, Paul, it’s that an attorney must be reasonably skeptical of the things his client tells him until he gets into court, and then he must accept every word his client says at face value. He must stand up in front of the jury and show that he believes what his client is saying.”

“I know,” Drake said sympathetically, “but that was quite a bombshell, Perry. That—”

“Well, let’s analyze it,” Perry said. “What does it mean?”

“It means,” Drake said, “that your client went downstairs, got some newspapers, came back and pasted a blackmail message on a sheet of paper. Then she decided she’d make a good job of it so she went down and got another set of newspapers and pasted a blackmail message which was sent to Theilman at his residence.”

“All right, why would she do that?” Mason asked.

“She wanted to be sure he got it.”

“Theilman was in his office. All she had to do was to put that message in with the mail and he was sure to get it, and what’s more she’d know that he had it.”

“Well, perhaps she wanted his wife to know about it,” Drake said.

“On the other hand,” Mason said, “suppose Theilman planned on disappearing and wanted to get as much ready cash as he could. He wanted to leave a blackmail message behind and wanted to be sure that people knew about it. He hoped that Janice Wainwright would look in the wastebasket and find the message there but he didn’t know whether she would be too ethical to dig out the pieces and read it, so he put another message in the inside pocket of his suit and then went home and changed his suit, knowing his wife’s habit of looking through the pockets.”

Drake said, “You’re client is a pretty good-looking babe, Perry. If she backs up that story with enough nylon, and you can make it sound convincing to the jury, you may get a hung jury out of it.”

Mason suddenly stiffened to attention.

Della Street, knowing his every mood, watching him, said, “What is it, Perry?”

Perry snapped his fingers. “Simple,” he said, “and I almost overlooked it.”

“What?”

“If the message was cut from those papers,” Mason said, “then it was either prepared by Theilman or by Janice Wainwright. In either event the message couldn’t have come through the mail, and if that is the case the letter from A. B. Vidal — that is, the addressed envelope — has to be a dummy.”

“But,” Della Street said, “Janice said that that envelope was in the mail... It had to be in that envelope.”

“But it couldn’t have been,” Mason said.

“I’m afraid,” Drake told him, “that that’s one of the things the prosecution is going to pick on. You can see what they’re doing, Perry. Hamilton Burger is here to have the honor of cross-examining your client, of ripping her story to pieces. Once she gets on that witness stand, Hamilton Burger is going to be the hero of the piece and he wouldn’t be in here in that capacity unless he had some card up his sleeve.”

Mason walked across the courtroom, stood looking out of the window regarding the traffic on the street far below with unseeing eyes.

The courtroom again filled with spectators. The bailiff entered. A buzzer summoned the jurors.

Throughout the courtroom was the air of tense expectation which comes before a crucial battle.

“Everybody stand up,” the bailiff said.

Judge Seymour came in from his chambers, walked over to the bench and seated himself. The bailiff’ tapped the gavel. Everyone sat down.

“The jurors are all present, the defendant is in court,” Judge Seymour said. “You may proceed with your case, Mr. Mason.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “a matter of some considerable importance has occurred to me during the recess. I would like to recall one of the prosecution’s witnesses for further cross-examination.”

“What witness?” Judge Seymour asked.

“Mrs. Carlotta Theilman.”

Judge Seymour glanced down at the prosecution table.

Hamilton Burger arose. “If the Court please,” he said with quiet dignity, “I believe this is the first time Your Honor has presided in a case where Mr. Mason was representing a defendant. I have been in dozens of those cases. This is all a part of a virtually stereotyped procedure. Counsel always waits until it suits his convenience and then asks to recall a witness for cross-examination, thereby giving undue emphasis to the questions that he asks and thereby frequently securing a much-needed delay.

“In the present case it is quite obvious that defense counsel wants the benefit of a delay in determining whether to put the defendant on the stand or not. I can sympathize with him in his problem, but we have our work to do, the Court has its work to do and the taxpayers are entitled to some consideration. I submit that the purpose of this request for cross-examination is simply to obtain further delay and attempt to stall the case until the hour of the noon adjournment so that counsel can delay his decision whether he wants to put the defendant on the stand or not.”

Judge Seymour said, “I feel that it is incumbent upon defense counsel to cross-examine the prosecution’s witnesses at one time and not piece-meal. Of course, the Court has it in its discretion to permit a witness to be recalled for further cross-examination even after the prosecution has rested, but the procedure would be irregular and I would be inclined to allow it only in most exceptional circumstances. And since those circumstances do not appear at the present time, I see no reason for granting the motion.”

“May I be heard, Your Honor?” Mason asked.

“Yes, certainly, Mr. Mason. I never wish to preclude argument on the part of counsel.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, his voice vibrant with sincerity, “this is a case which depends upon circumstantial evidence. One of the items of circumstantial evidence which the prosecution will rely upon in presenting the case to the jury is the identity of this twenty-dollar bill, number... let me see that exhibit, please, Mr. Clerk.”

“There’s no need to delay matters while counsel takes up more time reading the number of that bill into the record,” Hamilton Burger said. “There’s only one twenty-dollar bill introduced in evidence and we don’t need all this red tape and rigmarole which will simply result in further delay.”

“The Court is inclined to agree with the prosecution,” judge Seymour said. “What about the twenty-dollar bill, Mr. Mason?”

“I want to examine Mrs. Carlotta Theilman and ask her if, after my secretary and I were driven to the airport by the police, after she got the taxi driver to take her to the casino, she didn’t pay off the taxi driver with a twenty-dollar bill.”

“What if she did?” Hamilton Burger said. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means a great deal,” Mason said. “It means that this twenty-dollar bill is now established to have been one of the twenty-dollar bills that was in the suitcase at the time it was placed in the locker FO82 at the Union Depot.

“If the defendant had that twenty-dollar bill in her possession, the prosecution is going to claim that it means she was doing the blackmailing, that she was the one who fabricated the letters, that she was the one who secured delivery of that suitcase; that when Mr. Theilman found out about what had happened, she had no alternative except to murder him.

“That twenty-dollar bill therefore becomes a very damning bit of evidence in the case. It is a most important piece of evidence.

“Now, if I can show in any way that the witness Dudley Roberts, the taxi driver, secured or could have secured that twenty-dollar bill from Mrs. Carlotta Theilman, then the entire case of the prosecution is greatly weakened; in fact, it may collapse.”

Judge Seymour frowned thoughtfully, visibly impressed by the argument.

“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “this is the same old story, the same old grandstand. Now, if the Court please, even if there is anything to counsel’s wild theory that Mrs. Carlotta Theilman did give the taxi driver a twenty-dollar bill, it still doesn’t mean anything. Mrs. Carlotta Theilman had no access to that suitcase. She had no opportunity to get one of those twenty-dollar bills. She hadn’t even seen the decedent. She hadn’t been in touch with him. She had only been in touch with the decedent’s secretary, the defendant in this case.

“If, however, she did pay him with a twenty-dollar bill and counsel wishes to establish that fact, it is part of an affirmative showing which counsel should make on defense and as a part of his case. We have no objection whatever to his calling Mrs. Carlotta Theilman as his own witness. He can call her right now if he wants to, as his first witness.”

Judge Seymour said, “I think that is correct, Mr. Mason. I think that’s probably the best way of looking at it.”

“May I be heard in response to that statement, Your Honor?” Mason asked.

“Certainly.”

Mason said, “The district attorney well realizes that there are certain aspects of this case which give the defendant certain technical advantages and of which he would like to deprive the defendant. If it should appear as a part of the prosecution’s case that the cab-driver was paid with a twenty-dollar bill by Mrs. Carlotta Theilman, then it no longer is conclusive proof that the defendant had in her possession any of those twenty-dollar bills which were in that suitcase. And since the case of the prosecution is founded so greatly upon circumstantial evidence, I would then have an opportunity to move the Court to advise the jury to bring in a verdict of acquittal.

“The Court is fully familiar with the rule of law that if the circumstantial evidence can be explained by any other reasonable hypothesis than that of guilt, the courts are obligated to accept such interpretation.”

Judge Seymour thought for a moment, suddenly said, “Very well. This court is a temple of justice. It is not bound by strict red tape or arbitrary rules of procedure. Those rules of procedure, on the other hand, are designed primarily and solely to bring about the administration of justice. I am going to permit the defense to recall Mrs. Carlotta Theilman. You will take the stand, Mrs. Theilman.”

Judge Seymour turned to Perry Mason and said, “And, Mr. Mason, I think I will limit your questions to the one point which you have brought up.”

“Very well, Your Honor,” Mason said.

Hamilton Burger in exasperation looked at the courtroom clock.

A deputy located Mrs. Carlotta Theilman and she returned to the stand.

“You have already been sworn and are still under oath,” Judge Seymour said. “Now, Mr. Mason, you may ask that question.”

Mason said, “Mrs. Theilman, you will recall the evening of the fourth in the city of Las Vegas when we were having a conference in a motel. That conference was interrupted by the police who escorted Della Street and me to the airport, leaving you there in the motel. Now, I believe that it is in evidence that you took a taxi-cab to the Double Take Casino after we had departed.”

“That is right,” she said. “I took the cab that was waiting there.”

“When you arrived at the casino, do you remember how you paid the cabdriver; that is, what money you gave him?”

“Why, yes,” she said. “I remember I gave him a fifty-cent tip and the bill was, I think—”

“What I am trying to get at,” Mason interrupted, “is how you paid him. Did you have the exact amount of cash with you or did you pay him with a larger bill?”

“No,” she said, “I paid him with a five-dollar bill. I remember I had— Now, wait a minute. I didn’t either. I got the five-dollar bills from the taxi driver. I remember I had three five-dollar bills when I entered the Casino. I was playing the twenty-five-cent machine and I turned in two of the five-dollar bills for quarters. I... I received three five-dollar bills and some silver from the cabdriver in change.”

“Then,” Mason said, “you must have given him a twenty-dollar bill.”

“That’s right. I remember now that I did. I had a twenty-dollar bill and gave it to him.”

“Did you only have one twenty-dollar bill in your purse?” Mason asked.

“No, I had several. I think I had, oh, perhaps ten or twelve twenty-dollar bills. I gave him a twenty-dollar bill.”

Mason bowed to the Court. “Thank you, Your Honor,” he said. “That is all.”

Hamilton Burger and his deputy engaged in a whispered conference.

“Do you have any questions on redirect, Mr. Prosecutor?” Judge Seymour asked.

Hamilton Burger, plainly exasperated, got to his feet. “Where did you get this twenty-dollar bill that you gave the taxi driver, Mrs. Theilman?”

“Why, I had it in my purse.”

“And where did you get it when you put it in your purse?”

“I got it from my bank in Los Angeles.”

“Exactly,” Hamilton Burger said, “you couldn’t by any conceivable possibility have received that twenty-dollar bill from your former husband, could you?”

Mason was on his feet before she could answer the question. “Just a moment, Your Honor,” he said. “That question is argumentative; it calls for a conclusion of the witness; it is leading and suggestive. If the prosecution is going to present its case on circumstantial evidence, the circumstances have to speak for themselves. This witness cannot testify to a conclusion.”

“But this is redirect, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said.

“That doesn’t make any difference,” Judge Seymour said. “You can direct the attention of the witness to a certain specific subject on redirect examination but you can’t lead the witness and you certainly can’t put the words in her mouth. The objection is sustained.”

Hamilton Burger made no attempt to conceal his anger. “When had you last seen your ex-husband prior to the time you came to Las Vegas on the fourth, Mrs. Theilman?”

“It had been over two years.”

“When had you last seen his secretary?”

“It had been about the same length of time.”

Hamilton Burger said angrily, “All right, I’ll let the facts speak for themselves,” and sat down.

“Now just a moment, Mrs. Theilman,” Mason said, “I have another question on recross-examination.”

“Now, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger objected, “this is just what I warned the Court was going to happen. Perry Mason recalled this witness, assuring the Court he only wanted to ask one more question on cross-examination about that twenty-dollar bill. Now he’s trying to prolong this and drag it out with arguments and further questions and general fishing expeditions until the hour for the noon adjournment.”

“I think the prosecution is right, Mr. Mason,” Judge Seymour said. “This witness was recalled only for the purpose of one question.”

“That is quite correct, Your Honor, and that is all I wanted to ask. But the prosecution has taken over and has brought in a lot of new matter. Now I want to ask a question relating to the questions which were brought up on redirect examination by the district attorney.”

“You certainly have that right,” Judge Seymour said. “If your questions relate only to that phase of the interrogation, you can ask them.”

Mason approached the witness. “You say that you hadn’t seen your former husband for a period of about two years?”

“Objected to as already asked and answered,” Hamilton Burger said. “If he keeps this up we’ll be here all day.”

Judge Seymour frowned at the district attorney and said, “The witness could have answered that question in half the time it has taken for your objection. I take it this question is preliminary only, Mr. Mason?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Objection overruled. Answer the question,” Judge Seymour snapped.

“That is right,” the witness said.

“Now then,” Mason said, “have you, or did you, within a period of twenty-four hours before the time of your arrival in Las Vegas have any dealings of any sort with A. B. Vidal?”

“Objected to as not proper cross-examination,” Hamilton Burger shouted.

“Overruled,” Judge Seymour said.

The witness hesitated for a moment, then said, “Since I am under oath I will have to state that I had a telephone conversation with a man who said his name was A. B. Vidal.”

“When did you have this conversation?”

“At eight-thirty p.m. on the evening of the third. That was Tuesday.”

“What did this man want?”

“The same thing the others wanted. He wanted to negotiate with me for my stock.”

“He said his name was Vidal?”

“That’s right. A. B. Vidal.”

“Did he say where he was?”

“It was a long-distance call from Bakersfield.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“Not the voice of A. B. Vidal, but I could hear over the phone someone giving instructions in a low voice and I am satisfied that voice was the voice of my husband. It was an exceptionally good connection and, as it happens, I have keen ears.”

“What was the conversation?” Mason asked.

“I told the person with whom I was talking that if his principal wished to talk with me, I would meet him in Las Vegas, Nevada; that I would take the Union Pacific Domeliner, The City of Los Angeles, on the evening of Wednesday, the fourth. I told this person that I would negotiate, not with any agent, but only with the principal. I said that I knew who the principal was and that if they wanted me to be there and negotiate, they could send me a hundred dollars to cover expenses in the form of cash, and if that money was forthcoming I would meet with the principal in Las Vegas.”

“Then what?” Mason asked.

“With that,” she said, “I hung up the telephone without waiting for any further comment.”

“Did you get the money?”

“I did. The next afternoon the money was brought to my house. It was in an envelope marked ‘Expenses to Las Vegas.’ It contained five twenty-dollar bills.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all.”

Hamilton Burger was on his feet, confronting the witness. “You put this money in your purse?”

“Yes.”

“And took it to Las Vegas with you?”

“Some of it. I bought a ticket with some of the money.”

“You never told me this dummy gave the name of Vidal,” Hamilton Burger accused.

“You never asked me,” the witness said. “I told you a lot of people were trying to get my stock and that I had reason to believe some of them were acting as dummies for my husband. I didn’t go into details because you didn’t ask me.”

Mason smiled at the jury.

Hamilton Burger and Ruskin had a quick, whispered conference. Then abruptly Burger said, “That’s all.”

“That’s all,” Mason said. “I have no further questions.”

Judge Seymour looked at the clock. “Well, gentlemen, we only have fifteen minutes before noon. Does the defense wish to start with its case?”

“We’re quite ready,” Mason said.

“Well, now just a minute,” Hamilton Burger said, and again had a whispered conference with Ruskin. Then he said, “Very well, go ahead. We’ll put on the rest of our evidence by way of rebuttal.”

“Very well,” Judge Seymour said. “Proceed, Mr. Mason.”

Mason smiled at the judge and said, “We have no evidence on the part of the defense, Your Honor. The defense rests. Let’s proceed with the argument.”

“What!” Hamilton Burger shouted.

“The defense rests,” Mason said. “Let us proceed with the argument.”

“Very well, Mr. District Attorney, you may open the argument,” Judge Seymour said.

“We don’t want to argue it at this time, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said. “This move by the defense has taken us completely by surprise.” He looked at the clock. “It lacks only a few minutes of the noon hour of adjournment and... I would suggest that we adjourn until two o’clock. We may wish to move to reopen the case.”

Mason said, “This is the same district attorney who was so concerned about the delay, about stalling the case along and wanting to save the taxpayers’ money. I’m quite ready to go ahead right now. Why not start the arguments?”

Judge Seymour smiled, said, “Well, I think in view of the manner in which this case has been expedited a difference of ten minutes isn’t going to affect the schedule of court or the tax rate in this county. Court will take a recess until two o’clock. The defendant is remanded to custody, the jurors are warned to remember the admonition of the Court not to discuss the matter among yourselves, permit it to be discussed in your presence, or to form or express any opinion. Court will recess until two o’clock.”

Hamilton Burger glared angrily at Mason, got up and pushed his way through the crowd out of the courtroom.

Ruskin paused for a moment, looked at Mason with a half-smile, and left.

“What happened?” Janice Wainwright asked.

“I’m gambling,” Mason said. “I’m gambling with your life and with your liberty, but it’s the only thing to do. I didn’t have time to confer with you and I didn’t want to confer with you. If I had engaged in a whispered conversation as though we had any doubt about the matter, it would have been fatal. The jurors would have seen that conference and would have felt that I had some doubt. The only thing for me to do was to act as though I had every assurance in the world that this jury was going to acquit you, and leave the matter in their hands.”

“I think you did just right,” she said. “That means that I don’t have to get on the stand, doesn’t it?”

“It means you don’t have to get on the stand,” Mason said.

“Thank heavens for that.”

Mason smiled and said, “Chin up, Janice.”

The officer who came forward to take Janice into custody had a reassuring smile.

Mason, Della Street and Paul Drake moved over to one corner of the courtroom, waiting until the spectators had left.

“That was a daring gamble,” Paul Drake said.

“Every once in a while an attorney has to make them,” Mason said. “You have to rely on your own judgment.”

“Those tire tracks still crucify you,” Drake said.

Mason merely grinned, said, “Hamilton Burger’s bombshell turned out to be something of a dud, Paul.”

“The man’s going to have a stroke if you keep on deviling him,” Della Street said.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Mason told them. “Wait until court reconvenes. I have a plan. If it works, Burger will be chewing nails.”