The D.A. Breaks a Seal

20

Selby’s return to the courtroom found the contestants in a whispered conference, Judge Fairbanks plainly impatient. The last witness, who had, apparently, utterly failed to stand up under the cross-examination of A. B. Carr, had just left the stand, and there was in Inez Stapleton’s manner something of panic. Even the pompous assurance of W. Barclay Stanton had been deflated to a point of almost absolute zero. He was nervously fumbling with the heavy watch chain which stretched across his big stomach.

Selby wasted no time. He had hardly entered through the swinging gate which separated the bar from the spectators’ portion of the courtroom when he announced in clear, firm tones, “Our next witness on behalf of the contestant, Barbara Honcutt, will be Helen Elizabeth Corning. Mrs. Corning, will you please take the stand?”

There was a ripple of surprise throughout the courtroom. Inez Stapleton, turning hurriedly from her whispered conference, looked at Selby with an expression almost of dismay.

A. B. Carr’s voice was suave, purring in its suggestion of triumph. “Do I understand that you are calling Mrs. Corning as your witness?”

“As our witness,” Selby said.

Carr smiled and bowed. “Take the stand, Mrs. Corning.”

While Mrs. Corning was marching triumphantly to the stand, Inez Stapleton arose to crowd close to Doug Selby. “Doug, you can’t do it. She’s A.B.’s star witness, the one he’s been holding in reserve. She was Martha Otley’s sister. They were visiting her when Eleanor died. She’ll testify to anything. I know she’s prepared to smear our clients. She...”

Selby squeezed Inez Stapleton’s arm reassuringly. “I’m playing a hunch, Inez. It has to be right.”

“Have you any proof?”

Selby shook his head. “It’s just a hunch.”

“I don’t like it, Doug...”

W. Barclay Stanton was struggling ponderously to his feet. “Now your Honor,” he said in the rambling cadences which the custom of a past generation had decreed should clothe all public utterances, “we want the record to show that this is purely and solely a responsibility of the contestant, Barbara Honcutt. The contestant, Hervey Preston, not only doesn’t wish to be bound by the testimony of this witness as a witness on behalf of the contestant Hervey Preston, but upon behalf of that contestant, I protest at the legal unwisdom of calling a hostile witness at such a time and in such a manner.”

“Very well,” Judge Fairbanks said. “Your position will be duly noted in the record, Mr. Stanton. Proceed with your examination, Major Selby.”

Selby turned to size up the woman on the witness stand, a woman of about fifty-five, shrewd, crafty-eyed, firm-mouthed, a woman who was nervously smoothing down the folds of her black skirt. There was a triumphant smile lurking at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were cautious, watchful, wary, indicating an active mind and an alert determination to make the most of the situation in which she found herself called as a witness for the contestant, who would, within certain limitations, be bound by her testimony, since she was not technically an adverse party.

A. B. Carr, either with a desire to educate the witness, or for the purpose of assuring the jury that Selby had placed himself in a legally impossible position, arose and said gravely to the court, “I suggest, for the purpose of the record, your Honor, that this cannot be a move to call an adverse party under the section of the code permitting the cross-examination of such an adverse party. Helen Elizabeth Corning is the surviving sister of Martha Otley, but, inasmuch as Martha Otley died leaving a daughter, Anita Eldon, who is her sole heir, Mrs. Corning does not stand to profit one cent by the outcome of this litigation. Therefore, she cannot be deemed an adverse party, and counsel has no right to cross-examine her, but can only examine her as his own witness, and he will then be bound by her testimony.”

“Subject to the fact,” Judge Fairbanks amended, “that within the discretion of the Court, the Court may permit leading questions of a witness who apparently is hostile in fact, regardless of whether such witness has a direct monetary interest in the outcome of the litigation.”

“Certainly, your Honor,” Carr said, smiling.

“Proceed,” Judge Fairbanks said to Selby.

Selby said, “Your name is Helen Elizabeth Corning? You live at McKeesville, Kansas, and you are the surviving sister of Martha Otley?”

“That is right.”

“You were with Martha Otley at the time of an automobile accident which occurred at Olympus, Kansas?”

“Yes.”

“And in that accident, both Eleanor Preston, the testatrix, and Martha Otley sustained injuries which proved fatal?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Corning, can you tell us if Anita Eldon somewhat resembles her mother?”

Carr frowned perplexedly.

W. Barclay Stanton started once more to lumber to his feet, apparently with an objection on his lips, then gruntingly subsided back into his chair.

“Why, yes, she has the same general resemblance, the same color eyes, the same... She looks something like her mother looked at her age.”

“In other words, Martha Otley was a blonde. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And Eleanor Preston was a brunette?”

“Her hair was darker, sort of a chestnut color.”

“And because I may be bound by the answer to this question, Mrs. Corning, I want you to be very careful to confine your answer only to the question as I ask it. Mrs. Coming, what was done with the injured persons immediately after that accident?”

“They were moved into a drugstore. There was a drugstore there near the corner.”

“You yourself were injured in that accident?”

“I wasn’t unconscious. I had some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.”

“And the drugstore summoned a doctor?”

“Yes. They were both dead when the doctor arrived. In fact, poor dear Eleanor had died...”

“Just a moment,” Selby interrupted, “I’m not asking you that, since I’m going to be bound by your answers, Mrs. Corning. I insist that you answer only the questions I have asked.”

“Very well,” she snapped.

“That,” Selby announced, “is all. Do you wish to cross-examine, Mr. Carr?”

“Certainly,” A.B. said, fully realizing the value of being able to get in the testimony of his own best witness under the guise of cross-examination.

“In that event,” Selby said, “I think that in justice to Court and counsel, and in order to keep this witness from being charged with perjury, I now desire to state to Court and counsel, that the next witness called by the contestant, Barbara Honcutt, will be Hattie M. Irwin. That Mrs. Irwin is at present unable to attend court because she is under the care of a physician, but that if counsel wishes, I will now state to Court and counsel exactly what I expect to prove by this witness.”

“Go ahead,” Carr challenged. “What do you expect to prove?”

“I expect to prove,” Selby said, “that at the time of that automobile accident, Martha Otley died almost immediately. That Eleanor Preston lived for some few minutes until after she had been taken into the drugstore. That both were dead by the time the doctor arrived. That this witness, Helen Elizabeth Corning, acting with rare presence of mind, and realizing that in the event the beneficiary under the will died prior to the death of the testatrix, any bequests in the will to Martha Otley would be invalid, juggled the identities of the two persons and testified at the inquest that it was Eleanor Preston who died immediately and that Martha Otley survived her by a few moments. That is not true. Hattie Irwin, a witness to the accident, will swear Martha Otley was the one who died instantly, that Eleanor Preston lived for several minutes. Now then, do you wish to stipulate that Hattie M. Irwin would so testify?”

It was to old A. B. Carr’s credit that he showed not the faintest sign of consternation. He merely smiled and said, “No, Major, I wouldn’t wish to make any such stipulation because I am quite certain that it is entirely contrary to the facts of the case. But in view of the fact that your statement has been made in front of the jury; in view of the fact that you have boasted of your ability to produce this evidence, I am now willing to stipulate that the Court may grant a continuance until this witness of yours, Hattie M. Irwin, is able to attend court. And, then we will see if her testimony will be as you have stated it would be and if it will stand up under cross-examination.”

And Carr’s smile was a smile of conscious power, betraying no hint of inner consternation.

“I think,” Selby said to Judge Fairbanks, “that the recess must necessarily be for more than one day.”

Judge Fairbanks frowned. “I dislike to grant such a recess,” he said, “after a jury has been impaneled, but, as I understand counsel’s position at the present time, it is that the contestant now expects to prove that Martha Otley, the beneficiary under the will, died prior to the time Eleanor Preston met her death, and that under the law a bequest in a will to a beneficiary who is already dead is of no effect. Is that your understanding of the law, Major Selby?”

“That is my understanding of the law of this state,” Selby said, “and I am prepared to introduce authorities to support my contention. The fact that Eleanor Preston died leaving a will, naming as her sole beneficiary, a person who was already deceased, was exactly the same, legally, as though Eleanor Preston died without leaving any will. In which event, the property must be distributed to her natural heirs — Barbara Honcutt and Hervey Preston.”

“Under the circumstances,” Judge Fairbanks said, “the Court will take an adjournment for two days. During that time the jurors will carefully refrain from discussing this case among themselves or permitting it to be discussed in their presence, and will not form or express any opinion as to the issues involved.

“Court is adjourned.”

Doug Selby and Rex Brandon sat anxiously in Inez Stapleton’s office, Inez biting at her lip in nervousness, Selby drumming incessantly on the desk. The muscles of his jaw showed how tightly he was gripping his pipe. Only Rex Brandon gave no outward sign of emotional tension.

For the fourth time in five minutes Selby looked at his watch. “Doug,” Inez said, “I don’t see how you could have known. How you dared to take such a chance.”

“It had to be right,” Selby said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, and we were licked the other way. It only needed one look at your faces as I entered the courtroom to know that.”

She said, “I’ll agree with you on that. The witness that was to show undue influence completely blew up under Carr’s cross-examination. She just went all to pieces — couldn’t be sure of anything, not even her own name.”

Selby glanced at his wrist watch again, said, “That’s the only trump card that Fred Albion Roff could possibly have had up his sleeve. It’s the only thing that would have enabled him to guarantee absolutely that he could have won your case.”

“But he didn’t have anything to lose if he didn’t win it. He wasn’t gambling anything, Doug.”

“He was gambling his time. He was gambling his expenses. He was gambling...”

The ringing of the telephone made Inez Stapleton jump as though electric wires had been affixed to the seat of her chair. She snatched up the receiver, said, “Yes, hello. This is Inez Stapleton speaking.”

There was a moment of silence, then her face relaxed into lines of relief. She looked at Doug Selby, nodded almost imperceptibly, said, “I understand perfectly.”

There was another period of silence, then she said, “I’ll take the matter up with my associates... Well, that’s rather short notice, you know... Well, I’ll do the best I can... All right. I’ll call you back...”

Inez Stapleton dropped the receiver into place. In a bound, she was out of the chair and rushing toward Doug Selby. Her arms circled him and she danced excitedly about his chair. “Oh, Doug!” she exclaimed, “you’ve done it!”

Rex Brandon puffed contentedly at his cigarette. “You didn’t have any doubts but what he would, did you?”

“Well, come on,” Selby said looking at his watch. “I’ve got to catch a train in exactly thirty-five minutes. You’re going to have to talk fast.”

“It was old A.B.C,” she said. “He, of course, worked in a lot of camouflage about how his client was exceedingly nervous and wasn’t standing up well under the strain of trial, and he suggests that we split the estate three ways; that Anita Eldon take a third, Barbara Honcutt take a third and Hervey Preston take a third.”

“All right,” Selby said, “ring him up and tell him to go to hell.”

“I can’t do it, Doug. I’ve got to take it up with W. Barclay Stanton. And I hope that old stuffed-shirt isn’t so anxious to grab at the bird in the hand, that he lets Carr get away with...”

“With a third of the bird in the bush,” Selby laughed. “Don’t worry. Carr would never have made that offer of compromise unless he’d taken Helen Elizabeth Corning into the privacy of his home and sweated the truth out of her. He couldn’t afford to have her caught flat-footed in perjury. Now that we know the facts we can get more witnesses. If you stick it out, Carr will simply cave in and withdraw from the case. You’ll never see Helen Elizabeth Corning again. Not unless Carl Gifford wants to bring her back to face a charge of perjury.”

Inez said, “I don’t know about W. Barclay Stanton. He’s money hungry and he may want to make some sort of a compromise. He would have sold out so cheap a couple of hours ago that almost anything will look like a godsend to him now.”

Rex Brandon said, “If you’re leaving in thirty-five minutes, Doug, let’s have a little talk about that murder before you leave.”

Selby said, “I have some ideas about that too, Rex.”

“Shoot.”

Selby said, “Now that we know the motive for the murder, we can tell a lot more about the murder itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Put yourself in Roff’s position. He went to Los Angeles. He had information which was a two-edged sword. He could either sell it to the contestant, or he could sell it to the other side. In the one case, he caused all of the money in the estate to go in equal shares to Barbara Honcutt and Hervey Preston. In the other case, he kept quiet and it all went to Anita Eldon. He would have preferred to close with Anita Eldon because there he would be dealing with only one person. A person who was accustomed to hearing the sort of language that Fred Albion Roff wanted to use. But it was a question of who would pay the most.”

Brandon merely nodded.

Inez Stapleton, her eyes sparkling with excited animation, pushed books aside and perched on the edge of the big, flat-topped legal desk.

Almost unconsciously Selby went about the business of refilling his pipe. He pushed fresh tobacco down into the crusted bowl and lit a match before he went on.

“Now then,” he said, between the first puffs of getting the pipe going, “you can see what happened. Roff took the matter up with Inez Stapleton, but decided not to go any farther with her because she was proving a little difficult. He turned to someone who he knew was easier.”

“Anita Eldon?”

Selby nodded.

“And Anita Eldon poisoned him?”

Selby said, “Anita Eldon wasn’t here where she could have administered the poison. And, in a case of that kind, you’d hardly put yourself in the power of someone else, by hiring a murderer to do the job for you.”

“A. B. Carr?” Brandon asked.

“Carr is hardly a murderer. Even though you don’t agree with me about him. I somewhat doubt whether Carr knew too much about what had happened. I don’t believe Carr’s story about those witnesses. I do believe Carr knew two important witnesses were coming on the train; that they were to identify themselves by means of a white gardenia, and that they were to meet someone who had a white gardenia and I think Carr arranged all of the mechanics of spiriting them away. But when it came to the murder — no, Rex, there are two or three things we have to take into consideration.”

“The waiter, Henry Farley? Do you think he’s the guilty one?”

“I don’t think he could be.”

“Why not?”

“Because we must take into consideration that one of the most significant clues is that Fred Albion Roff ordered a complete breakfast just after he’d already had a breakfast.”

“Well, what does that mean?”

Selby said, “It means that he came on to Madison City. It means that he was conducting negotiations with someone. It means that someone was in his room in the hotel and complained that he was hungry and that he hadn’t had breakfast. And it means that he trapped Roff into ordering a complete breakfast sent up to his room. The minute that person heard the knock on the door which signified the waiter was bringing breakfast, that person, man or woman, stepped into the bathroom, and closed the door. Now do you get it?”

“I’m beginning to,” Brandon replied, “but go on from there.”

“We have a murderer in the bathroom,” Selby said. “At the very moment the waiter is putting out the breakfast things in the room, the murderer, while he is in the bathroom, is surreptitiously filling a medicine dropper with what is probably the most deadly poison commercially obtainable. The murderer waits until the waiter has left the room — then the murderer steps out of the bathroom, puts a few drops of hydrocyanic acid on each of the sugar cubes, and he’s ready to proceed with the grim business in hand.”

“But the coffee was part of the breakfast,” Brandon pointed out.

Selby nodded. “The murderer must have said, ‘I don’t drink coffee,’ and suggested to Roff that perhaps another cup of coffee would be acceptable to him even if he had had breakfast. It would keep the coffee from going to waste.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “You’re giving a pretty good theory there, Doug.”

“And,” Selby said, “the murderer simply stalled around until Roff fell for the bait of a cup of steaming hot coffee. Remember Roff was trying to put across a delicate business deal — one which involved blackmail, the suppression of evidence and the subornation of perjury. That’s why Roff would have been better off to have sold out to the contestants. If he’d done that, he could then have kept himself in a purely ethical position of merely producing a witness to testify to one bomb-shell fact that would blast Anita Eldon’s case completely out of court. When he started dealing with Anita Eldon, he had to adopt the position of suppressing evidence and tacitly consenting to the commission of perjury. Roff was a lawyer and he didn’t want to do that, but he was greedy and when it came to a showdown he did it. But he was nervous. That extra cup of coffee tempted him. And killed him.”

“And the murderer?” Brandon asked.

Selby said, “The murderer then proceeded to clean out all the papers from Roff’s brief case.”

“Why didn’t he take the brief case?”

“Because then, when the body was identified, the missing brief case would have proven that Roff had been killed because someone was afraid of certain papers he had in his brief case, and that would have, in itself, been a clue. So the murderer left only the new pad of legal foolscap that Roff had purchased and which was already in the brief case.”

“Go ahead,” Brandon said. “He took the papers, then what?”

“Then,” Selby said, “he didn’t want to leave the room simply carrying a lot of loose papers. That in itself might attract suspicion. He couldn’t be absolutely certain that when he stepped out in the corridor he wouldn’t meet someone. Roff had already opened his bag and taken out the soiled shirts and underwear. The murderer rolled them into a bundle as though making up a bundle of laundry, and he put the papers on the inside of the bundle.”

“And then?” Brandon asked.

“Of course,” Selby said, “I’m just reasoning from step to step, Rex, putting myself in the position of the murderer and...”

“Go ahead, son,” Rex Brandon interrupted.

“Well,” Selby went on, “he went out into the corridor, and he took the bundle down to his own room and he disposed of the clothes. We don’t know yet just how he disposed of them, but he disposed of them quickly and very effectively. And then, he started checking over the papers, and he found that one page was missing from a brief. Had he dropped that page in the corridor, or had he left it in the brief case, or had it been dropped somewhere on the floor of the room?

“So the murderer walked back down the corridor and didn’t see the single sheet of paper that was missing. So he knew someone had found it. And he probably telephoned A. B. Carr a tip that two witnesses, who were vitally important in that will-contest case, were coming to Madison City and that Carr should pick them up. And he... wait a minute, Rex. He’d fixed that up before. The murder had been deliberately planned, and he’d arranged with Anita Eldon to wear a white gardenia so that Carr could identify her. That would give Carr an out in case...”

“You don’t think Anita Eldon arranged it all herself?” Brandon asked.

“She couldn’t,” Selby said, hurriedly looking at his watch. “She wasn’t there. It had to be someone who was in the hotel, someone who could move back and forth.”

“A woman,” Brandon said, “because of Coleman Dexter’s testimony.”

“Not a woman,” Selby said. “Remember that the murderer wanted to account for the presence of the paper in the corridor, and at the same time he wanted to blame the crime on someone else and divert suspicion from himself. Why not testify that he had seen a woman, whom he described somewhat vaguely, leaving the room with a bundle of laundry and dropping a paper. That would put him in the clear... Rex, I’ve got to sprint to get packed up and get to my train. I simply have to make that train. You check up on Coleman Dexter. Remember that Anita Eldon must have had some business manager with whom she suggested Fred Albion Roff communicate, someone who was empowered to act. Probably someone who lived at the Madison Hotel, since Roff hadn’t had any outside visitors to his room from the time he arrived until the time he was murdered. Get Dexter, Rex, and check up on him.”

Selby tapped the ashes out of his pipe, looked at it longingly for a moment, then suddenly thrust the warm bowl into Rex Brandon’s hand. “I won’t take this with me, Rex. Put it back in the office desk and leave it until I get back from wherever I’m going.”

Brandon thrust the pipe into his pocket, enveloped Doug Selby’s hand into his own. “It’s a good theory, Doug. At least it’s worth a try. You’ve got the mechanics of the murder worked out all right. I’m not so certain about Dexter.”

“Give him a once-over,” Selby said. “But that’s the way the thing must have happened, and he could have easily moved over to Hattie Irwin’s table and planted the arsenic.”

“And planted the bottle of hydrocyanic acid and the medicine dropper in Farley’s room?”

“Sure,” Selby said. “That was the obvious thing for him to do.”

“And old A. B. Carr?”

Selby shook his head and smiled. “You’ll never catch him. His trail is covered too well.”

“You mean he got this man, Floris, who was shepherding Mrs. Irwin around, to show up and...”

“No, no,” Selby said hurriedly. “Floris may have been working for the murderer. You might even tie him up to Carr — if you can ever find him, but I doubt it. Perhaps Anita Eldon engaged Floris. They had to work fast and they either didn’t have time to get him to the train or they deliberately used Carr to break the trail. Old A. B. Carr probably didn’t know there’d been a murder committed, but he did know that a plot was on foot to suppress some evidence. Carr was willing to take a certain part in it, but he wasn’t going to go far enough to get his fingers burned. While he was meeting the witnesses at the train, the man who was scheduled to get the woman out of the country... Rex, I really haven’t any more time. I’ve got to sprint.”

Inez Stapleton slid down off the desk.

“You have time for one more thing.”

“What?”

“My thanks,” she said, and her arms were suddenly around his neck, her warm lips on his.

Rex Brandon pulled the big silver turnip timepiece out of his pocket, looked at it, scratched his head, thrust it back. “You got three minutes, son,” he said, and walked out of the office, his eyes deliberately fixed straight ahead.