The Case of the Stepdaughter’s Secret

Chapter Nineteen

Judge Cole S Hobart called the court to order.

“The case of the People versus Phyllis Bancroft,” he said. “The People are represented by Robley Hastings, district attorney, and Turner Garfield, deputy district attorney; the defendant is represented by Mr Perry Mason. Gentlemen, are you ready to proceed with the preliminary hearing?”

“The People are ready,” Hastings said.

“The defendant is ready,” Mason said.

“Very well, proceed,” Judge Hobart said. “Now, I notice that this trial has attracted a lot of attention in the public press. I warn the spectators that I want quiet in the courtroom. There will be no demonstrations. People will be permitted to leave the courtroom during the progress of the trial provided they do so in an orderly manner.

“Proceed with your case, Mr District Attorney.”

Turner Garfield took over the preliminaries. He called a surveyor and introduced a map of the harbour, aerial photographs of the bay and the yacht club, and a road map of the county showing distances between various points.

“Cross-examine,” Garfield said to Mason.

Mason said to the surveyor, “You have introduced these various maps but I noticed there is one map which you have failed to introduce.”

“What is that?”

“A coast geodetic chart of the harbour.”

“I didn’t consider that was necessary because the various maps which I have introduced are accurate and the aerial photograph gives a picture of the coast line and the boundaries of the harbour. The chart, on the other hand, is marked with various figures showing the depth of the water in feet and fathoms and I felt these might be confusing.”

“Why?”

“There are figures on charts which have nothing to do with the case or the indentation of the shore line and I thought they might be confusing.”

“But you do have a geodetic survey chart with you?”

“Not with me, no.”

“Then I show you one,” Mason said, “and ask you if you are familiar with it.”

“Yes, certainly.”

“That is an official chart, made by the government?”

“Yes.”

“And is used in navigation and is accurate?”

“I believe it is very accurate.”

“I would like to have that introduced as defendant’s exhibit Number One,” Mason said.

“We have no objection on earth,” Turner Garfield said. “Anything in the line of statistical information that the defence wants introduced in this case may be introduced.”

The next witness was the sheriff of Los Angeles County.

Garfield said, “Sheriff, I show you a photograph, one of the People’s exhibits, showing a body which has been identified as the body of a man found shot to death on the yacht, Jinesa, and ask you if you recognize the photograph.”

“I do.”

“Have you seen the person shown in that photograph?”

“Several times.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Both.”

“You have seen him alive?”

“Several times.”

“And you saw him dead?”

“Yes, I went to the morgue here and looked at the body.”

“Did you make any further attempt to identify the body?”

“I did.”

“What?”

“I took fingerprints.”

“Are you prepared to identify that body?”

“I am.”

“Whose body is it?”

“That of Willmer Gilly.”

“Cross-examine,” Garfield said.

“What were your standards of comparison as far as fingerprints are concerned, Sheriff?” Mason asked.

“FBI records.”

“Gilly, then, had a criminal record?”

“Objected to as being incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial,” Robley Hastings, the district attorney, said.

“Overruled,” Judge Hobart said. “The sheriff was asked about fingerprints and I think counsel is entitled to interrogate him on the authenticity of the fingerprints and how he happened to have them and all matters in connection with them. The Court is going to give the defendant the greatest latitude in the field of cross-examination. Answer the question, Sheriff.”

“He had a criminal record, yes.”

“For what?”

“Stealing an automobile and forgery.”

“Any other record?”

“No other convictions, no.”

“Had he, to your knowledge, been arrested in cases where there were no convictions?”

“Again I have to interpose an objection,” the district attorney said.

“Overruled,” Judge Hobart snapped. “The sheriff stated he saw the decedent several times when he was alive and counsel certainly has a right to interrogate as to any such occasion.”

“But, if the Court please,” Hobart persisted, “a witness can only be impeached by showing that he has been convicted of a felony, not that he has been arrested and charged with crime and then either acquitted or the proceedings dismissed.”

“Counsel is not trying to impeach a dead man,” Judge Hobart said. “He is trying to test the recollection of a witness. However, since counsel can quite readily reframe the question I will sustain the objection.”

“To save any question,” Mason said, “I’ll reframe the question to show exactly what I am getting at.

“Sheriff, on some of the occasions when you saw the decedent, Willmer Gilly, he was under arrest?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw him in your official capacity?”

“Yes.”

“Did you make any of those arrests?”

“One.”

“On what charge?”

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial and not proper cross-examination,” Hastings said.

“The objection is sustained,” Judge Hobart ruled.

“No further questions,” Mason said.

Robley Hastings, with something of a dramatic gesture, said, “I call Drew Kirby to the stand.”

Kirby proved to be a slow-moving, grizzled individual in his fifties, with watery blue eyes, an habitual squint and a leather-skinned face — the skin weather beaten to a deep, permanent tan.

“Where are you employed?” Hastings asked.

“At the Blue Sky Yacht Club.”

“Where is that?”

“That’s down on the bay.”

“Now, by the bay you mean what bay?”

“Well, Newport-Balboa Bay.”

“And how long have you been employed there?”

“For four years.”

“Consistently?”

“That’s right.”

“What are your duties?”

“I’m a general roustabout and caretaker. I sort of keep things running, keep track of things for the members, occasionally row them back and forth to yachts — them and their friends.”

“Were you so employed on the tenth of this month?”

“I was.”

“On the evening of the tenth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to show you a picture of Willmer Gilly, one of the People’s exhibits, and ask you if you have ever seen him before.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alive or dead?”

“Both.”

“To the best of your recollection, when did you see him first?”

“It was around seven o’clock, I guess, on the tenth.”

“Where was he?”

“Down at the yacht club.”

“Who was he with, or who was with him?”

“Mrs Bancroft was with him.”

“Now, by Mrs Bancroft you mean Phyllis Bancroft, the defendant in this action, the woman sitting to the left of Perry Mason?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And where was she?”

“She was out on the landing — the float.”

“And what was she doing?”

“Well, she was getting in a dinghy that belonged to the Bancroft yacht, the Jinesa.”

“Did you see her talking to Gilly?”

“Oh, yes, she was talking to him.”

“And what happened?”

“She rowed him out to the yacht.”

“She rowed him, or he did the rowing?”

“Well, she rowed him out and put him aboard the yacht.”

“Then what?”

“They were aboard the yacht for about ten or fifteen minutes, I guess, I don’t know. I didn’t see them after they got aboard the yacht. Then I saw her rowing back.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, sir. Alone.”

“Then what?”

“Well, she left the dinghy tied up at the float and went off somewhere and I saw her come back after a while, I guess it was maybe an hour.”

“And what was she doing then?”

“Well, she had some packages in a shopping bag.”

“And what did she do?”

“Got in the dinghy and rowed out to the yacht.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, now there I don’t know what happened, sir. I was busy for a while and a thick fog had come in, one of those real heavy, pea-soup fogs. You couldn’t see a darn thing — that is, I mean you couldn’t see out in the bay, at all.”

“Could you see as far as the yacht, the Jinesa?”

“No, sir.”

“And what did you do?”

“Well, I was busy around the place.”

“When did the fog lift?”

“It didn’t lift. It just settled down heavy.”

“Well, it must have lifted sometime,” Hastings said, his manner showing annoyance.

“Oh, sure, it cleared up the next afternoon.”

“And when did you next see the Bancroft yacht, the Jinesa?”

“I didn’t see it. It was gone.”

“But you did see it again?”

“Oh, sure. About... I don’t know, I guess it was about four-thirty or so the next afternoon they came bringing it in.”

“What do you mean, they?”

“The sheriff and some deputies.”

“How did they bring it in?”

“They were towing it with another boat.”

“What other boat?”

“A Coast Guard boat.”

“And what was done then?”

“Well, they cleared off a place at the float and tied the boat up and roped off the float, and then a lot of photographers and police officers came aboard.”

“Now, did you see Willmer Gilly after his death?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where?”

“At the county morgue.”

“You were taken there to look at the body?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And was that the same body, that is, the body of the same man that you had seen on the evening of the tenth with the defendant, Mrs Bancroft?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is there any slightest shadow of doubt in your mind?”

“No, sir.”

“You may cross-examine,” Hastings said to Perry Mason.

Mason arose from his chair at the counsel table, walked over to stand in front of the witness, whom he regarded with a kindly air and said conversationally, “You’ve identified this photograph of Wilmer Gilly.”

“That’s right.”

“When did you first see a photograph of Gilly?”

“I saw Gilly himself.”

“I know,” Mason said, “but when was the first time you saw a photograph of Gilly?”

“Well, that was when they came looking around... Let me see, that was... Why, yes, that was about nine o’clock, I guess, on the night of the eleventh.”

“How long after the yacht had been brought in to the float?”

“Oh, I don’t know, four or five hours, I guess.”

“Who showed you the picture?”

“The sheriff.”

“Ask you if you’d ever seen him before?”

“Something like that.”

“Actually, didn’t the sheriff ask you if that wasn’t a photograph of a man that had been with Mrs Bancroft the night before, and ask you if you hadn’t seen her row him out to the boat?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Do you remember the sheriff’s exact words?”

“Well, no. He showed me the photograph. He said he thought I probably had seen the man.”

“Did you agree with him?”

“I told him I might have, yes.”

“Did he ask you to study the photograph carefully?”

“Yes.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“That was before you went to the morgue to look at the body?”

“Yes.”

“When did you go to the morgue?”

“On the evening of the twelfth.”

“How many times had you seen Gilly’s picture before you went to the morgue?”

“Oh, several times.”

“How many?”

“Quite a few.”

“Did you have a copy of the picture in your possession?”

“I had a print, yes.”

“Where did you get it?”

“The sheriff gave it to me.”

“Told you to study it carefully?”

“Yes.”

“Told you he wanted you to identify the man in the photograph?”

“Oh, I don’t think he said it that way. He asked me if that wasn’t the man that had been down there on the float with Mrs Bancroft the night before and I told him it sure looked like it.”

“And he left you the photograph and told you to study it?”

“Not right away. That was the next morning.”

“The morning of the twelfth?”

“Yes.”

“And you studied that picture off and on during the day?”

“Yes.”

“And then after you’d studied the picture you were taken to the morgue.”

“That’s right.”

Mason regarded the man thoughtfully. “Did you have your glasses on when you looked at the picture?”

“Sure.”

“Where are your glasses now?”

The witness reached automatically for his breast pocket, then took his hand away and said, “I left them down in my room.”

“But on the eleventh and twelfth when you looked at the picture you had your glasses on, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“You can see better with your glasses on?”

“Naturally.”

“Could you have identified the picture without your glasses?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“But you identified the picture here in the courtroom without glasses.”

“I knew whose picture it was.”

“How did you know whose picture it was?”

“Well, it had to be the picture of this dead man.”

“What do you mean, it had to be?”

“Well, it was, wasn’t it?”

“I’m asking you,” Mason said. “Do you know whose picture it was?”

“Yes. I swore to it, didn’t I?”

“And you can see it without your glasses?”

“Yes.”

Mason walked over to the exhibit, picked it up, took another photograph from his pocket, compared them for a moment, then approached the witness and said, “Now look at this photograph. Are you positive that’s the man that was with the defendant on the night of the tenth?”

“I told you I’m positive.”

“That’s the man?”

“Yes.”

“No question of doubt in your mind?”

“Just a moment, just a moment,” Hastings shouted, jumping to his feet. “Counsel has two photographs there, one that he’s taken from his pocket while we couldn’t see what he was doing.”

“All right,” Mason said, “I’ll show the witness both photographs. These are both photographs of the same person?”

“Yes.”

“Let me see that photograph,” Hastings said.

“Certainly,” Mason said, handing the district attorney the two photographs.

“Now, wait a minute, wait a minute,” Hastings said. “This isn’t being fair to the witness. These are two different photographs.”

“He’s just sworn they’re photographs of the same person,” Mason said.

“Well, I submit that the witness should be advised...”

“Advised of what?” Mason said.

“That this second photograph is not a photograph of Willmer Gilly.”

Mason turned to the witness. “Do you see any difference in these pictures, Mr Kirby?”

The witness squinted his eyes, took the photographs, held his head back a ways and said, “They look the same to me but I don’t see so good without my glasses.”

“Do you wear your glasses all the time?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you wear them today?”

“Well...”

“Why?” Mason asked.

“Well, I left them down at my room at the club.”

“Did anyone suggest that you might leave your glasses there?”

“Well, I was told that if I came in here wearing glasses and tried to make an identification that they’d make things pretty rough for me.”

“Why?”

“Well, they just said that it would be pretty rough for me.”

“Who said that?”

“The district attorney.”

“And told you to leave your glasses down at the yacht club?”

“He said it might be a good plan.”

“That,” Mason said, “was because you weren’t wearing the glasses on the night of the tenth, isn’t that right?”

“Well, you can’t wear glasses around water when a fog is coming in. It’s better not to have anything on at all. You can see clearer without glasses than you can with glasses. You take a lot of fog coming in and it gets all over the lenses and you just keep wiping it off and wiping it off and it’s better not to have them.”

“So you weren’t wearing glasses on the night of the tenth?”

“I told you it was foggy. The fog was coming in.”

“Then when you saw the man whom you later identified as Willmer Gilly, you weren’t wearing your glasses?”

“I told you I didn’t have them on while I was out there on the float. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“But I’m just trying to check with your testimony,” Mason said patiently. “You didn’t have them on when you first saw Gilly.”

“No.’’

“Not at any time?”

“No.”

“Not when you saw the defendant?”

“No... but I recognized her all right.”

“Certainly you recognized her all right,” Mason said, “because you’ve known her for years. But you didn’t have your glasses on when you looked at these two pictures and you certainly testified that they were pictures of the same individual.

“Now, if the Court please, I wish to have the second picture marked for identification. That is a picture which I intend to connect up later on and I would like to have it marked for identification as defendant’s exhibit Number Two.”

“So ordered,” Judge Hobart said.

“I object to this type of cross-examination,” Hastings said. “This is the old razzle-dazzle for which counsel is noted. It’s a method of getting a witness mixed up.”

Mason smiled at the judge. “I’m not the one who asked him to leave his glasses down at the yacht club, Your Honour. The witness identified a picture which had been introduced in evidence by the People as that of Willmer Gilly, the person who was down at the yacht club on the night of the tenth with the defendant. I simply handed him two pictures and asked him if they were both pictures of the same person and he said they were.”

“The record speaks for itself,” Judge Hobart said. “The second picture may be marked for identification as defendant’s exhibit Number Two.”

“I can see all right without my glasses,” Kirby said. “I don’t wear them lots of times when I’m down there around the water, particularly at night.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “When the moisture gets on the lenses they’re something of a nuisance.”

“That’s right.”

“And since it was a foggy night on the night of the tenth you had the glasses off.”

“Well, it wasn’t real foggy the first part of the night but it was moist and damp, and then of course when the fog came in it wouldn’t have made any difference if you’d had a pair of binoculars on. You couldn’t see anything. That is, at any distance.”

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

Hastings hesitated for a long moment, then said, “No redirect.”

“Call your next witness,” Judge Hobard instructed.

“I’ll call Sheriff Jewett, the sheriff of Orange County, to the stand,” Hastings said.

Sheriff Jewett testified to having received a report from his deputy that a yacht was aground at the upper end of the bay, that a body was in it, that he went to the scene, arriving there about four o’clock in the afternoon. That he boarded the yacht, found the body, that a Coast Guard boat was standing by, that they took the yacht in tow and towed it to the Blue Sky Yacht Club where it was moored so that the boat could be searched for fingerprints and clues. That photographs were taken, that the body of Willmer Gilly was lying on its stomach facing the after portion of the boat, that the body was in the main navigating cabin, that there was a bullet hole in the heart. That he had subsequently supervised the removal of the body to the county morgue, that there an autopsy surgeon had recovered a bullet from the body, that the sheriff had taken charge of that bullet which he identified and which was introduced in evidence.

“You identified the body?” Hastings asked.

“Yes, sir. The body was that of Willmer Gilly.”

“Did you find where the decedent had been living prior to his death.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where was it?”

“It was in the Ajax-Delsey Apartments. That is called an apartment house, actually it is more of a rooming house with limited cooking facilities in most of the rooms.”

“Did you visit the decedent’s room or apartment in that house?”

“I did.”

“What did you find?”

“I found an iron bedstead with a rather thin, lumpy mattress, four army blankets, two pillows, two straightback chairs, one overstuffed chair, a toilet, a sink, a small shower, a few dishes, a two-burner electric plate.”

“Were there sheets on the bed?”

“There were no sheets.”

“A case on the pillow?”

“No pillowcase. A turkish towel had been placed over the pillow and it was quite soiled.”

“Was there a clothes closet?”

“No, sir. There was a small alcove across which a three foot length of pipe had been stretched and half a dozen wire coat hangers had been placed on that pipe. Three of the coat hangers had clothes on them, some slacks, a pair of overalls and a sports coat.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. In a hamper I found a skin-diving outfit complete with tanks. Acting on information contained in a label on the suit and the tanks, I found that the outfit had been rented from the Valley View Skin-Diving Outfitters. Rent had been paid for a week.”

“What else did you find?”

“I found a somewhat rickety kitchen table on which was a bottle of catsup, a plate, which had contained canned beans, a knife, fork and spoon and a coffee cup. There was a small electric ice box in which there was a quart carton of milk half full, a can of pork and beans about half empty, about half of a quarter pound of butter and about half a pound of raw hamburger.

“Above this ice box was a small cupboard which contained two cans of pork and beans, one can of chili con carne, a small bottle of Tabasco sauce, a pound container of sugar about half empty, two water tumblers, two coffee cups and saucers, four plates, two tin pie plates, a cream pitcher with a broken handle.

“In a drawer in a table there were some knives, forks and spoons, three of each. There was one frying pan, one rather battered aluminum saucepan which had apparently been used to warm up the beans. It was still on the stove, and though the beans had been scraped out of it there were traces of canned beans still adhering to the pot. There was half a loaf of sliced bread on the table.”

“Was there any tablecloth?”

“No.”

“Anything else?”

“I’ve mentioned everything I can remember at the moment in the line of orthodox furnishings,” the sheriff said, “but I took a complete set of photographs showing the apartment as we found it.”

“Nothing had been disturbed when those photographs were taken?”

“No, sir. We took photographs showing everything in the apartment.”

“Those photographs were taken by you or under your supervision?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We ask that these twelve photographs be introduced in evidence and given appropriate numbers,” Hastings said.

“No objection,” Mason said.

“Now then,” Hastings said, “returning to this bullet, the so-called fatal bullet, which you have identified. What calibre was that?”

“A .38 calibre.”

“Could you tell from the direction of the groove marks what make of gun had discharged that?”

“Yes, it was fired from a gun which had the same rifling marks as a Smith and Wesson revolver.”

“Sheriff, did you ask the defendant if she knew anything about a .38-calibre Smith and Wesson revolver?”

“I did.”

“Did you receive any answer?”

“She said that she was under instructions to say nothing to anyone, that at the proper time she would tell her story and until then she had nothing to say.”

“Did you ask her husband, Harlow Bancroft, about a gun?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He made virtually the same answer.”

“Did you search the firearms registry to see if he had purchased a weapon?”

“I did.”

“What did you find?”

“That on the fifteenth day of June of last year he had purchased a Smith and Wesson .38-calibre revolver, No.133347.”

“Did you ask him to produce that gun for you?”

“I did.”

“What was his answer?”

“He said that the gun was not available.”

“Did you ask him to explain that remark?”

“I did.”

“Did he give you any explanation?”

“No, sir.”

“Now then, directing your attention to furnishings other than what you have called orthodox in the apartment of the decedent, Willmer Gilly, did you find anything under the bed?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“What was it?”

“A Monarch Ten portable typewriter.”

“Did you have occasion to use this typewriter?”

“Yes, sir, I ran off the alphabet, both upper and lower case, on a sheet of paper.”

“Now, Sheriff, I show you what purports to be a note demanding the payment of three thousand dollars, which is to be placed in a red coffee can in accordance with subsequent instructions which are to be telephoned, and ask you if you recognize that note,”

“I do, yes, sir.”

“When did you first see that note?”

“It was handed to me by a lifeguard employed at a public swimming beach at Lake Merticito. He said it had been given him by a young—”

“Never mind what he said,” Hastings interrupted hastily, “that’s hearsay. But I will ask you whether you compared the typewriting on that note with the sample of typewriting you had taken from the Monarch Ten portable typewriter you had found in the room of the decedent, Willmer Gilly?”

“I did, yes, sir.”

“With what result?”

“Studying the alignment of the letters and a chipped type face, I became convinced there was no question but that this so-called blackmail note had been written on the typewriter which we found in Willmer Gilly’s room.”

“Returning now to the fatal bullet,” Hastings said, “did you make any attempt to match that bullet with any other bullet?”

“I did, yes, sir.”

“With what other bullets?”

“Harlow Bancroft owns a mountain cottage some thirty miles out of San Bernardino in the high mountains. I went to that lodge, or house, and looked around. The house is situated on property which comprises a little over two acres. In back of the house I found a target made of four thicknesses of Celotex, backed with a two-inch board. This target in turn had been placed upright against an embankment.”

“What else did you find?”

“I pried the Celotex loose from the board and found quite a number of bullets imbedded in the board. Most of these bullets were of .22 calibre, but three of them were .38 calibre bullets. I carefully excavated around the target and sifted the soil and found a large number of bullets, mostly of .22 calibre, but again I found half a dozen .38 calibre bullets.”

“Now then, do you have in your office a so-called comparison microscope?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“This is a microscope used in matching bullets?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you compare the fatal bullet, which has been introduced in evidence, with any of the bullets you recovered from the Bancroft property?”

“Yes, sir, I compared them all.”

“With what result?”

“I found two bullets in good enough shape to make a comparison.”

“With what result?”

“Both of those bullets had been fired from the same gun which had fired the fatal bullet.”

“Did you make photographs showing the fatal bullet superimposed upon these recovered bullets?”

“I did, yes, sir. Here are the photographs showing how the striations match perfectly. The fatal bullet is the one above and the recovered bullets are those below.”

“Each of these three photographs represents a different recovered bullet?”

“That is right. The top bullet in each photograph is the fatal bullet, or rather the top portion of the fatal bullet. The lower bullet is in each case the lower portion of one of the three recovered bullets.”

“We ask that these three photographs be received in evidence,” Hastings said.

“No objection,” Mason said.

Hastings turned to Mason with a triumphant smile. “Would you care to cross-examine?” he asked.

“Oh,” Mason said casually, “I have a few questions.”

Mason advanced to stand in front of the sheriff.

“You have stated that the so-called blackmail note was written on this Monarch Ten portable which you found in the room of the decedent?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The entire note was written on that typewriter?”

“I can’t swear to every single letter of every single word, because I’m a law enforcement officer and not an expert on questioned documents, but I did find a couple of defective type faces on that typewriter and I found those same defects on those same letters in the note, so on the strength of that I know the note was written on that typewriter.”

“What time was it when you got to the yacht, Jinesa? That is, you yourself, personally?” Mason asked.

“Three-fifty-five p.m.,” the sheriff said.

“The Coast Guard cutter was standing by?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You had previously been notified by telephone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And had proceeded immediately to the place where the yacht was found?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, was the yacht aground at the time it was discovered?”

The sheriff stroked his chin. “Frankly, I don’t know,” he said. “I think it was. It was floating when I arrived. The tide, I believe, was going out then.”

“Was the boat anchored?”

“There was an anchor out, yes.”

“With how much chain?”

“Well, with not very much chain. Only a few feet.”

“What do you mean by a few feet, eight feet? Ten feet? Twenty feet?”

“I would say somewhere around fifteen to twenty feet, yes.”

“And you moved the yacht?”

“I ordered it moved so we could get our paraphernalia and equipment aboard. We had to.”

“Did you mark the exact place where the yacht was when you found it?”

“Well, not the exact place, no. Of course, I know approximately.”

“But with twenty feet of anchor chain out you couldn’t tow the yacht.”

“We picked up the anchor and dropped it aboard the yacht.”

“And then towed it.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know the exact place where the yacht was located?”

“I know approximately.”

“But not exactly.”

“Well, I couldn’t put it right back in exactly the same place, no.”

“What was the tide at that time?”

“I don’t know for sure. It was going out, but I think it was high, pretty high.”

“Did you ever return to that place at low tide to search the ground adjacent to the place where the yacht was found?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because nobody had been aboard that boat for some time. It had floated with the tide. It floated in there and to a point where the anchor engaged the bottom of the bay.”

“How do you know?”

“Because of various and sundry discoveries we made. The dinghy was still fastened to the yacht and the anchor had been just dragging along at the end of about fifteen or twenty feet of chain.”

“How do you know that?”

“By circumstantial evidence.”

“How do you know the yacht hadn’t been taken to that point and anchored there?”

“There was no reason to anchor it there.”

“But someone might have had some reason to anchor it there?”

“We made a careful search of the shore line. We found no indications that any boat had landed. We decided the yacht had drifted with a dragging anchor line to the place where it finally came to rest at high tide.”

“That was just your conclusion?”

“From circumstantial evidence, yes.”

“You don’t know now exactly where you found the boat?”

“Certainly I do. We found it out about three hundred and fifty yards from—”

“Did you measure it?” Mason interrupted.

“No.”

“When you say about three hundred and fifty yards you’re making just an estimate?”

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t go back and pinpoint the exact location of that place?”

“No, I have already said that.”

“Do you know how long the boat had been there when you found it?”

“It had drifted in on the high tide. I assume that it had probably drifted in on the tide the night before.”

“What is the basis of that assumption, Sheriff?”

“We know almost exactly when Gilly met his death. He had been seen on the club landing. He had been taken aboard the yacht. He had eaten canned beans at his apartment. Death had been within approximately two hours of the time he had his last meal. The yacht had evidently been drifting aimlessly with the tide. There was virtually no wind.”

Mason said, “Let’s just check those tides, Sheriff. I show you a tide table. You will note it shows that high tide on the tenth actually took place on the early morning of the eleventh, at one-fifteen a.m.”

“That is correct.”

“The next high tide was at two-thirty-two on the afternoon of the eleventh.”

“That’s right, yes, sir.”

“And you found the boat at low tide?”

“The tide was dropping very rapidly. It was not quite low tide.”

“And you promptly hooked onto the boat and towed it in to the float?”

“After I got there I ordered it towed in to where we could go to work on it, yes.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

Hastings said, “If the Court please, I am now going to call another witness, Stilson L Kelsey. This man is partially hostile. I cannot vouch for him but I want his testimony because it is vital.”

“Very well,” Judge Hobart said. “Mr Kelsey to the stand.”

Kelsey presented a somewhat different appearance from the man Mason had seen at Eve Amory’s apartment. He had had a haircut, his suit was new, his shoes were new. He had an air of complete assurance.

“What is your name?” the district attorney asked.

“Stilson L Kelsey.”

“What is your occupation?”

“I refuse to answer.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that the answer will incriminate me.”

“Are you acquainted — or were you acquainted — with the decedent, Willmer Gilly, during his lifetime?”

“I was.”

“Did you have any business arrangements with him?”

“I did.”

“Did you have any arrangements with him concerning a business transaction which was to culminate on the evening of the tenth?”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“On the tenth of this month what was your occupation, Mr Kelsey? Now, that question is limited to the tenth of the month.”

“Well, I didn’t have any regular occupation.”

“How were you making your living?”

Kelsey took a deep breath, said, “I received donations from various people.”

“Come on, speak up,” Hastings said. “What was the nature of the occupation? What caused those donations?”

Kelsey shifted his position, crossed his legs and said, “Blackmail.”

“And did you have any arrangement with Willmer Gilly covering the blackmail of any member of the Bancroft family?”

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

“We propose to connect it up. We propose to show motive,” Hastings said. “This witness is a key witness in the case. He has turned State’s evidence as to this particular transaction. His testimony is going to be most important and most significant. I am willing to waive blackmail in order to clear up a murder.”

“I’ll overrule the objection,” Judge Hobart said. “The Court would like to get to the bottom of this. Go ahead.”

“Answer the question,” Hastings said.

Kelsey said, “Gilly came to me with a story.”

“What was the story?”

“Objected to as hearsay,” Mason said.

“I propose to show it is part of the res gestae,” Hastings said.

Judge Hobart frowned. “Does this story have to do with your business relations with Gilly?”

“Yes, Your Honour.”

“I’m going to allow the testimony,” Judge Hobart said. “It may be I will strike it out after I hear it, but I am going to allow it subject to a motion to strike.”

Kelsey said, “Gilly had become very friendly with a man in the same rooming house where he was living.”

“What was the rooming house?”

“The Ajax-Delsey Apartments.”

“All right, go ahead.”

“Well, Gilly said that he had become very friendly with a man named Irwin Victor Fordyce; that Fordyce had a past and that he finally confided his story to Gilly; that Gilly was the only one that he had ever told; that he told Gilly the story because of friendship with Gilly and because he felt he could trust Gilly’s discretion.”

“Now, did you take action on that story — as a result of that story?”

“I did.”

“That action was directly responsible for the joint business association you had with Mr Gilly?”

“It was.”

“Generally, what was the story?”

“Objected to,” Mason said, “as hearsay. Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

“Overruled. I’m going to hear it,” Judge Hastings said, “subject to a motion to strike.”

“Well,” Kelsey said, “it seems that Fordyce was an assumed name, that the man who went under the name of Fordyce was related to someone very high socially and if the true identity of Fordyce and his criminal record became known, the very high society wedding between Rosena Andrews, a member of the Bancroft family, and Jetson Blair, a member of the socially prominent Blair family, would never come off.”

“So what was done?”

“Without anything being said that would let Fordyce have any idea we were acting on the information, Gilly and I decided to use the information for our own benefit and turn it into money.”

“Now, what did you do with relation to that decision?”

“Well, I looked up the families a little bit and found the Bancroft family was lousy with money and the Blair family was stronger on social position than money. I felt that it would be easy to get some money out of the Bancroft family.”

“How much money?”

“Fifteen hundred dollars in one bite, a thousand in another.”

“That was all you intended to get?”

“Certainly not. We intended to test out the information that we had. We figured that fifteen hundred dollars and a second payment of a grand would be enough to make it worth while, but not too much to cause undue alarm on the part of Rosena Andrews. We felt that we’d just see how good the tip was. If she was willing to pay fifteen hundred dollars, and her mother another thousand, then we’d wait a week or so and put the bite on her for more and then keep crowding her until we found just what the limit was. At least that was the understanding Gilly and I had.”

“All right, what happened?”

“Well, we wrote a blackmail note and put it on the front seat of Rosena Andrews’ car. We didn’t want to send it through the mail. Gilly had a typewriter and was a good typist. I couldn’t run one of the things. So Gilly wrote the note. He showed me the note, however, and it met with my approval.”

“And what were the terms of the note?”

“That Rosena had to pay fifteen hundred dollars in accordance with instructions that we would give over the telephone unless she wanted to have the information made public that would disgrace the family.”

“That was intended in the nature of a trial balloon?” Hastings asked.

“That’s right. And then Gilly contacted the defendant and put the same story up to her and she decorated the mahogany with a thousand. Neither knew the other had been milked on a shakedown.”

“Go ahead. Then what happened?”

“Well, we kept watch until we were sure Rosena had got her note. She got in the automobile and saw the note on the front seat and picked it up, looked at it, read it a couple of times and then drove off.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well,” Kelsey said ruefully, “without my knowledge, after I had seen the note, Gilly apparently had crossed out the fifteen hundred dollars and put the bite on her for three thousand.”

“Without telling you?”

“Without telling me.”

“What was the object of that?” Hastings asked.

“He was trying to cut himself another fifteen hundred dollars. You see, according to the way we figured out our instructions, we’d take a boat out on the lake — the Bancrofts were staying at their summer house on the lake — and Gilly was quite a water diver — that is, a skin-diver... My idea was that we’d rent a boat, just like a couple of ordinary fishermen, and Gilly would have his skin-diving outfit in the boat. We’d put out and I’d go fishing. He would skin-dive and be at a certain place at a certain time and then we’d have Rosena Andrews drop the money overboard in this coffee can. Gilly would skin-dive under the coffee can, scoop it down under the water, then swim over to the shore line where he’d be undetected and I’d put the boat over in to the shore as though I were looking for fish there. Gilly would climb in and change his clothes and put the skin-diving outfit in the big hamper we had and we’d go on back and turn the boat in and drive away. That way, even if there’d been a squawk to police no one could catch us.”

“What happened?” Hastings asked.

“I guess by this time everybody knows what happened,” Kelsey said. “We told her to put the money in a coffee can — a red coffee can — and as luck would have it, it just happened there were two red coffee cans. One of them was just an empty can that someone had tossed overboard from a boat after using it for bait, and the other one was the can with the money. Well, it happened that a water-skier picked up the can with the money and turned it over to the police, and Gilly grabbed the empty can that had been used as a bait can.”

“You discussed the matter with him?”

“After we saw in the paper what had happened, I discussed the matter of his double-cross with him.”

“What do you mean by double-cross?”

“About his trying to get three thousand instead of fifteen hundred and holding out the fifteen hundred.”

“And what did he say with reference to that?”

“He swore he hadn’t made the change in the letter, that someone had double-crossed him and he accused me of doing it so I could get an extra fifteen hundred.”

“All right, then what happened?”

“Well, after we found out we’d picked up the wrong coffee can, Gilly called Rosena and told her that she hadn’t followed instructions and she accused him of being a nosy newspaper reporter and hung up. So then he called the mother and she said to meet her down at the float at the Blue Sky Yacht Club and she’d take him out in the yacht and pay the money there and then put him ashore and in that way they could both be sure that nobody was watching, that she thought some private detectives were in on the deal and she wanted privacy just as much as anybody.”

“And what time was he to meet her?”

“Seven o’clock on the float at the Blue Sky Yacht Club.”

“Do you know whether he did meet her or not?”

“I’m just telling you what I know from what I heard on the telephone and from what Gilly told me. All I know for sure is that Gilly took off for the Blue Sky Yacht Club and that was the last I ever saw of him.”

“Cross-examine,” Hastings said.

“How did he take off for the Blue Sky Yacht Club?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. The last I saw of him was when he was eating dinner in his room. That was about six-thirty. He always went for canned pork and beans in a big way, and my last talk with him was when he was sitting there gulping down canned pork and beans. He said he’d have to leave a little before seven, and that before midnight we’d have our three thousand dollars.”

“Then what?”

“Then I went out on some business of my own. After that I went back to the Ajax-Delsey. I also had a room there. I waited and waited for Gilly to come back. When he hadn’t come in by midnight, I figured he’d collected the three grand and had taken a powder so he wouldn’t have to split with me.”

“You knew that Gilly had posed as a friend of Irwin Fordyce?”

“Certainly.”

“And under the guise of friendship had got Fordyce to confide in him?”

“Of course.”

“And then had deliberately used that information for the purposes of blackmail?”

“Sure,” Kelsey said. “I’m no angel. I’m not trying to pose as an angel, and Gilly was in every bit as deep as I was.”

“And you had a plan to double-cross Gilly? You planned to force Eve Amory to sign a paper saying the three thousand found in the coffee can was hers, that the whole idea was a scheme for personal publicity for her and that she wanted the police to turn the money back to her, and then you were going to force her to turn it over to you on another blackmailing scheme?”

“That’s right. You caught me at it. Gilly was planning on double-crossing me, so I was taking out a little insurance. Gilly wasn’t really a partner of mine. He was inexperienced in the blackmail racket so he turned to me to handle the deal. Then he figured on double-crossing me and leaving me holding the sack, so I just decided to take out a little insurance, that’s all.”

“And you have gone to the district attorney with all this information and used it to gain immunity from prosecution for the blackmail, haven’t you?”

“What would you have done?” Kelsey asked.

“I’m asking you the question. Have you done that?”

“Yes.”

“And the district attorney gave you money for a haircut, a new suit of clothes and new shoes, so you’d make a good impression in court?”

“Not the district attorney.”

“The sheriff?”

“Yes.”

“And you have received the promise of immunity from the district attorney?”

“Provided I told the truth on the witness stand.”

“And what was his definition of the truth?”

“Well, it had to be a story that there wouldn’t be any holes in.”

“In other words,” Mason said, “if you told a story that would stand up on cross-examination, that was supposed to be the truth. Is that right?”

“Well, something like that.”

“If I was able to trip you up on cross-examination and show that you were lying, then you wouldn’t have any immunity. Is that it?”

“Well, that’s about the size of it, I guess. Of course he didn’t express it quite that way, but I was supposed to be telling the truth. If I’m telling the truth, nobody can punch any holes in my story. I’m to tell a story that stands up and then they’ll make it easy on me.”

“In other words,” Mason said, “if your story is good enough to bring about a conviction of the defendant in this case, you won’t be prosecuted for blackmail. Is that it?”

“Well, now you’re putting your own interpretation on the thing,” Kelsey said, “That wasn’t exactly the way the DA put it up to me and that’s not the way I’m going to let you get our understanding into the record. The understanding was that if I told my story and there were no holes in it, and I was telling the truth so it stood up in court just the way I’d told it to the DA, I didn’t have to worry about getting prosecuted for blackmail.

“Now, I’ll be perfectly frank with you, Mr Mason. I’m no angel. I’ve had trouble and that’s why I couldn’t answer a question about what my occupation was. I’m not going to commit myself. There isn’t any promise of immunity on anything except this one blackmail job. I’m willing to answer all questions about that and I’m going to tell the truth about it, even if it puts me in the position of being something of a heel.

“But you have to remember that I was dealing with a man who really wasn’t a partner. He’d just propositioned me to help him put across a blackmail deal, and then he started double-crossing me right from the start. I didn’t intend to stand for that.”

Mason said, “On the night of the tenth when Gilly was killed, where were you?”

“Now there,” Kelsey said, grinning, “I’ve got a sweet alibi. I was putting the bite on Eve Amory right about the time the murder took place, and after that I drove down to my room and I stayed there all night. I was up until a little after midnight, waiting for Gilly to come in, and when he didn’t come in I just decided he’d given me the double-cross, but I didn’t care too much because I felt sure I was going to make Eve Amory see things my way.

“Everybody would be sore at her because she’d pulled a fast one to get publicity, but that was no skin off my nose. They’d have to turn over the three thousand bucks to her and I’d wind up with all the dough.”

“And what became of Irwin Victor Fordyce?” Mason asked.

“Search me. I don’t know anything about that deal. All I know is that he was out of stir and he was hot, and he evidently took it on the lam when he found out that Gilly had sold him out and was blackmailing the family. You can see it his way. He felt that sooner or later the blackmail deal would get into the hands of the police, they’d find out what it was all about, and since he was hotter than a three-dollar pistol he decided discretion was the better part of valour and he’d better take it on the lam.”

“What do you mean by saying he was hotter than a three-dollar pistol?” Mason asked.

“Just what I said. He had been fingered on a filling-station job and the police were looking for him. As soon as he saw that blackmail letter published in the newspaper, he knew that the fat was in the fire and he decided to get out of circulation.”

“Did you ever talk it over with him?”

“I never spoke to him in my life,” Kelsey said. “I knew him when I saw him because he had a room in the same building where I was staying, but he was Gilly’s friend, not mine. He didn’t know me from Adam.”

“But Gilly knew you.”

“Sure, Gilly knew me. I had a reputation for... Well, we’re not going into that, but Gilly wanted to put a bite on the Bancrofts and he figured I could tell him how to do it.”

“And you told him how to do it?”

“I’m not denying it.”

“And you were actually in Gilly’s room on the night of the murder.”

“That’s right. A little before seven o’clock. Sometime between six-thirty and seven.”

“And what was Gilly doing?”

“I told you, he was eating his dinner; gulping it down pretty fast because he had to leave. He told me he had everything all fixed, that he was going to get three grand to take the place of the money that had slipped through our fingers and he’d be back with it before midnight.

“Like I told you, he was eating canned beans and bread.”

“Coffee?” Mason asked.

“No, he had some milk. He didn’t go much for coffee at night. He drank it in the morning, I think. I tell you, Mr Mason, the man wasn’t my partner. He was just a... Well, he just came to me to help him out, that’s all.”

“Then you went out on this expedition of your own and what time did you get back?”

“I don’t know. Probably... oh, maybe around nine or nine-thirty.”

“And you stayed in your room thereafter?”

“No, I didn’t. I went from my room over to Gilly’s room — oh, half a dozen times — trying to see if he was in.”

“Did you go in?”

“I didn’t have any key. He had the door locked. I looked to see if there was a light in the place and then a little after midnight I tapped on the door to see if he’d come in, hadn’t gone to my place, and had gone to bed instead. Then about one o’clock in the morning I tried it again. By that time I’d come to the conclusion he’d given me another double-cross, had collected the three grand and had decided to dust out. Well, that was all right with me. I figured I could take care of myself in dealing with a cheap, two-bit crook like Gilly.”

“And how did you figure you’d take care of yourself?”

“Like I told you, first I’d make Eve Amory make a statement that the whole thing had been a publicity stunt. That would show she had title to the money. They’d have to give it back to her. I figured that the Bancrofts weren’t going to come forward and say it was their money, because then they’d have to tell the police all about the blackmail deal and they couldn’t afford to do that. So I figured it was all right. Gilly could double-cross me and take the three grand, and I’d double-cross him and get the other three grand and we’d be even. Then I’d take over the blackmail deal and handle it the way it should be done. These were just the first preliminary touches. Before I got done, I was going to put a ten-grand shakedown on the Bancrofts. And then the next time I ran into Gilly I’d make him kick through for the half he’d held out on me.”

“What about the half that you’d held out on him?” Mason asked.

“The way I was playing it, that was a separate deal with Eve Amory. That was none of his business.”

“And how did you intend to make him give you the half of the three thousand dollars he’d collected from the defendant?”

“Well,” Kelsey said slowly, “there are ways and ways. Take my line of business, you have ways of insuring that people who give you a double-cross pay up afterwards.”

“What is your line of business?” Mason asked.

Kelsey grinned and said, “Now we’re getting back to where we started. I told you I’m not going to talk about my line of business. Nobody’s giving any immunity for anything except this one blackmail deal.”

“And you get immunity for that.”

“That’s right.”

“Provided your story stands up,” Mason said.

Kelsey said, “You just try to punch a hole in it, Mister. I’m telling you the truth and you just try to find a loose joint in what I have told you. I’m not foolish enough to make a deal with the DA and then try to hold out anything and get my neck in a noose. If my story stands up, I get immunity. If it doesn’t stand up, I don’t. They can say lots of things about Kelsey but they can’t say he’s too dumb to know which side of the bread has the butter.”

“So you have quite an interest in bringing about the conviction of the defendant in this case,” Mason said.

“I have quite an interest in being sure I tell the truth,” Kelsey said. “I don’t care what effect it has. If it ties Mrs Bancroft up with murder, that’s her hard luck. But on the kind of a deal I have, I’m telling the truth and I don’t care who gets hurt.”

“You know Gilly was going down to the yacht club to meet Mrs Bancroft?”

“I knew what he told me, yes.”

“And when he didn’t show up you didn’t make any attempt to go down there to the yacht club?”

“I did not. I stayed right in that house and waited for him to come back. I figured I’d give him that much of a chance to shoot square.”

“And if he had given you half of the three thousand, would you have given him half of the three thousand you were going to get from Eve Amory?” Mason asked.

“Oh, Your Honour,” the district attorney said, “I think this question is argumentative and is entirely outside the field of legitimate cross-examination. I’ve given the defendant every latitude with this witness because I realize the man is one whose background makes his story open to question.

“If there’s any loophole in his story I’m just as anxious to find it out as defence counsel. But certainly, asking him about what he intended to do in the event he’d been successful in blackmailing Miss Amory into giving him a document on which he could subsequently collect the three thousand dollars that was in the hands of the authorities, is hardly within the issues in the present case.”

“I think it’s argumentative,” Judge Hobart ruled. “However, I felt that in a matter of this sort, and dealing with a man of this sort, defence counsel should have every latitude. I think I’ll overrule the objection. Answer the question.”

“Well,” Kelsey said, “I’ll put it this way. If Gilly had played square with me, I think I’d have cut him in on that other three grand. Yes, I think I would have. I’ve got a reputation to sustain — but I was pretty suspicious of Gilly after he’d tried to double-cross me by boosting the ante from fifteen hundred to three thousand and figuring that he’d get the first crack at that coffee can, dip out the extra fifteen hundred and destroy the note... Well, I didn’t feel too friendly toward the boy. I just made up my mind he was a chiseler and I’d even up with him on this deal and then I didn’t want any more to do with him.

“We have a code of ethics in my business, the same as any other, and the people I’m doing business with are entitled to rely on my reputation — only, I’m not going into my business, Mr Mason. I’m just talking about this one deal and that’s all.”

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

District Attorney Hastings said, “I will call as my next witness Dr Morley Badger, the coroner’s physician and autopsy surgeon.”

Dr Badger took the stand.

Mason said, “We will stipulate Dr Badger’s professional qualifications subject to the right of cross-examination.”

“Very well. Thank you,” the district attorney said.

He turned to the witness. “Dr Badger, you were called on the eleventh of this month to perform an autopsy?”

“I was.”

“On whom did you perform the autopsy?”

“Willmer Gilly; at least, it was a cadaver whose fingerprints have been introduced in evidence as being those of Willmer Gilly.”

“What did you find as to the cause of death?”

“A .38 calibre bullet had penetrated the man’s heart. It had entered the chest, penetrated the heart, and lodged against the spine.”

“What can you say in regard to death?”

“It was instantaneous, as nearly as one can measure those things.”

“What about motion after the shot?”

“There would have been no motion after the shot. The bullet not only went through the heart but lodged in the spinal column. The only motion would have been a falling motion due to gravitation. The man fell where he was struck and died where he fell.”

“What time did you perform your autopsy?”

“About nine-thirty on the evening of the eleventh.”

“How long had the man been dead?”

“Approximately twenty-four hours.”

“Can you fix it any closer than that?”

“Medically, I would say the man had died between eight and eleven p.m. of the preceding day; judging from extraneous evidence, I can pinpoint the time of death a little more accurately.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The man had died within approximately an hour and a half to two hours after ingesting a meal of canned pork and beans.”

“You may inquire,” the district attorney said.

“No questions,” Mason said.

“What!” District Attorney Hastings exclaimed in surprise. “No cross-examination?”

“No cross-examination,” Mason said.

“If the Court please,” Hastings said, “I see it is approaching the hour of the noon adjournment and that is our case. We only need to show in a preliminary hearing of this kind that a crime has been committed and that there is reasonable cause to connect the defendant with the crime. I think we have abundantly established our case.”

“It would seem so,” Judge Hobart said, “unless, of course, the defendant wishes to put on a defence.”

“The defendant would like to have an adjournment,” Mason said, “until tomorrow morning.”

“Do you intend to put on any defence?” Judge Hobart asked. “It is, of course, unusual in preliminary examinations of this sort and I warn counsel that once a prima-facie case has been established, mere conflict of evidence would have virtually no effect on the ruling of the Court. It is this Court’s duty to bind a defendant over when there is reasonable cause to believe the defendant has perpetrated a crime. The question of credibility of witnesses in the event of a conflict in the testimony is exclusively within the province of the trial jury.”

“I understand, Your Honour,” Mason said. “However, the defence is entitled to a reasonable continuance and I would like to have a continuance until tomorrow morning in order to ascertain whether we wish to put on testimony.

“I would also like to make a public statement in court at this time. Inasmuch as the defendant has sustained some damage in the press because of her refusal to make any statement whatever to the investigating officers, and inasmuch as I have been largely responsible for that attitude on the part of the defendant, I would like to announce that immediately following the adjournment of this case there will be a press conference at which the defendant will tell a full and complete story to the newspaper reporters as to exactly what happened on the night of the murder.”

“Your Honour!” Hastings shouted, getting to his feet, “this is ridiculous. This is making a travesty of a judicial investigation. The defendant sits tight and makes no statement whatever on the advice of counsel. Then after the prosecution has rested its case, the defendant announces that she will, in effect, give her testimony to the public press.”

Judge Hobart said thoughtfully, “I know of no law which prevents the defendant from making a statement to the press at any time the defendant desires, and I certainly know that under the law the defendant does not have to make a statement to investigating officers.

“Under the circumstances, Court will take a recess until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, at which time this hearing will be renewed. In the meantime the defendant is, of course, remanded to the custody of the sheriff. However, if the defendant desires to make a statement to the press at this time, I see no reason why the sheriff cannot arrange for such an audience here in the courthouse.”

Judge Hobart arose and left the bench.

District Attorney Hastings came barging over to Mason’s counsel table. “Look here, Mason,” he said, “you can’t pull a stunt like this!”

“Why can’t I?” Mason asked. “You heard what the judge said. It’s legal.”

“Well, if you’re going to have a press conference, I’ll be there and I’ll ask some questions,” Hastings said. “What you’re trying to do is to enable the defendant to tell her story without being cross-examined by the prosecution.”

“Are you representing a newspaper?” Mason asked.

“You’re damned right I am — that is, I will be. I’ll have credentials from a newspaper in five minutes.”

“Get them,” Mason said coldly, “and you’ll be entitled to attend the conference.”

“And I’ll ask some questions that the defendant can’t answer — or won’t answer.”

“If,” Mason said, “you are a member of the press, you will be welcome.”

The courtroom was seething with excitement. Newspaper photographers, crowding close to Mason’s table, took photographs of the irate district attorney and the smiling defence counsel.

Hastings turned to the reporters. “I never heard of anything like this in my life,” he said. “It’s fantastic! It’s ridiculous! It’s also suicidal, but it does have the effect of building up public sympathy for the defendant. If she was willing to tell her story, why didn’t she tell it when the officers were investigating?”

“Because,” Mason said, “the officers made a slipshod investigation.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t send a diver overboard and investigate the bottom of the bay where the boat had come to anchor.”

“How do you know what’s on the bottom of that bay? You may find evidence that would completely exonerate the defendant. You may find the murder weapon.

“Any reasonably expert investigating technique would call for divers to go overboard at that point, at least to look for the murder weapon. The natural assumption is that the murderer, whoever he was, threw the weapon overboard.

“But what have you done?” Mason went on. “You and the sheriff investigated the case and didn’t even mark the spot where the boat was anchored. Now you have forever lost what may be evidence vital to the defendant in the case. Therefore the defendant exercised her right to choose the time when she would tell her story.

“We have always said we would tell the defendant’s story at the proper time and in the proper place.”

“You just wait,” Hastings sputtered. “I’m going to get to a telephone and get the proper press credentials, and if you’re so firmly convinced there’s evidence around the bottom of the bay where that boat was anchored, why don’t you get a diver and go look for it?”

“We don’t know where the place is,” Mason said. “The boat was towed away under the direction of the sheriff.”

Hastings started to say something but was too angry for words. His mouth quivered in a nervous spasm. His face was dead white. His hands were clenched.

Abruptly he turned and strode away in the direction of the telephones.

Mason said to the sheriff, “If you would be so kind, Sheriff, as to arrange for a conference in the law library within say, five minutes, we will have duly accredited members of the press present.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Sheriff Jewett said, “you’re accusing me of incompetence.”

“I’m not accusing you of incompetence,” Mason said “I have made the statement that your methods of investigation were slipshod.”

“Well, it amounts to the same thing.”

“All right,” Mason said, “if you want it that way, then I’m accusing you of incompetence.”

“I don’t know whether I care to co-operate with you in connection with a press conference or not,” the sheriff said.

“Hey, wait a minute,” one of the newspaper reporters said, “What are you trying to do, squelch the biggest story of the year? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m running my office,” the sheriff said.

One of the other newspaper reporters said, “Sure, you’re running your office, Sheriff, but don’t forget your friends. We took off our coats and went to work for you at election time and we intend to keep in your corner, but we sure as hell don’t want to lose out on a story of this magnitude.

“Do you realize what it means? Here’s a wealthy woman accused of murder, with overtones of blackmail in the case. The wire services will eat it up. The metropolitan papers will be screaming for news. It means a big personal income to every reporter here in the courtroom. You can’t throttle a story of that sort — moreover, you can’t keep the defendant from talking if she wants to talk. All you can do is throw a monkey wrench in the machinery so it will handicap the local reporters who have been in your corner all along, and who will be sidetracked by reporters from the big metropolitan dailies who will come thronging down here by airplane the minute word gets out that Perry Mason is going to let his client talk.”

The sheriff thought things over for a moment, then said, “All right. In ten minutes we’ll let her make her statement to the press in the law library.”

“And we’ll see to it that only accredited press representatives are there,” Mason said. “Otherwise, my client won’t talk.”

“The sheriff and his deputies will be there,” the sheriff said.

“Of course,” Mason smiled. “We want you there.”

“Very well, ten minutes from now in the law library,” the sheriff said.