Erle Gardner - The Case of the Shoplifter's Shoe

A nurse changed Mrs. Breel’s position in the wheel chair so that she would not become cramped. Mrs. Breel smiled at Mason and said, “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

“It’s going to get worse,” Mason warned.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Well,” Mason said, “it’s always darkest just before dawn.”

Virginia Trent came forward, standing tall, thin and austere, her face with its look of grim tension in contrast with Mrs. Breel’s carefree smile. “It’s a crime,” she said, “for them to drag Aunt Sarah into court while she’s still suffering from that broken leg.”

Mason said, “The district attorney’s office wanted to rush her to trial while she was still suffering from a loss of memory.”

“Couldn’t you have presented a physician’s certificate and secured a continuance?” Virginia Trent asked accusingly.

“I could,” Mason admitted, “but I had a better idea.”

“What?” Virginia Trent asked.

“To go on with the trial before your aunt had recovered her memory.”

Mrs. Breel flashed him a swift glance. Virginia Trent said indignantly, “What do you mean by that, Mr. Mason?”

“I just meant that I wanted to try the case while I stood the most chance of getting an acquittal.”

“Do you feel certain?” Virginia Trent asked him, her voice harsh with nervousness.

“Well,” Mason hedged, “let me put it just the way I explained it to you a few days ago... I’m as certain of getting an acquittal now as I’ll ever be. On the other hand, a lapse of time may strengthen the Prosecution’s case.”

“You’ve said that two or three times,” Mrs. Breel said. “Can you tell us just what you have in mind?”

Mason, shoving papers into his brief case, said, “Suppose you leave the worrying to me.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Mrs. Breel nodded to Virginia Trent.

“Well, I don’t,” Virginia Trent said. “I think we’re both adult, and I think we’re entitled to share in the responsibilities.”

“Go ahead and worry, then,” Mason told her gravely.

Sarah Breel sighed resignedly and said, “Very well, Ginny, since you feel that way about it, I agree with Mr. Mason. We’ll let you worry.”

Virginia’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “You two act as though you were laughing at me all the time,” she said. “This isn’t any laughing matter. In case you want to know it, Mr. Perry Mason, the general comment around the courtroom has been that you’re laying down on the job.”

There was something of a twinkle in Mason’s eyes. “Don’t let that worry you,” he said. “You see, I’m mentally lazy. I save all of my energy for fighting where it will do the most good. These lawyers who doggedly contest a case every step of the way use up too much energy. They bum themselves out.”

Virginia Trent and the nurse turned Mrs. Breel’s wheel chair around, and Virginia Trent snapped over her shoulder, “Well, you haven’t burnt yourself out. If you ask me, you aren’t even lukewarm.”

Sarah Breel couldn’t turn in the wheel chair so she could see Mason’s face, but she raised her right hand to wave reassuringly. “Don’t mind Ginny,” she called. “I always thought she took life too seriously. After all, I’m the defendant in this case. Come on, Ginny.”

Paul Drake moved forward and whispered to Perry Mason, “Sergeant Holcomb’s detectives have found Mrs. Peabody.”

“You mean Lone Bedford?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“What are they doing about it?” Mason asked.

“Nothing,” Drake said. “They’re keeping her under surveillance, that’s all. My men have her sewed up. When these other shadows moved in, they got wise and tipped me off. One of my boys recognized them. They’re from Homicide.”

“And there’s been no sign of Pete Chennery?”

“None. She’s sitting tight... And don’t think Holcomb is going to do anything to play into your hands, Perry, because he isn’t. He has shadows on the job, but that’s as far as he’ll go.”

Mason grinned. “Thanks, Paul. I think this leaves us sitting pretty.”

As court reconvened at two o’clock, Mason took up his cross-examination of Diggers. “You say you were going about twenty-five miles an hour, Mr. Diggers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And this defendant stepped out from the curb, directly in front of your headlights?”

“Yes, sir.”

“About how long was it after she stepped out from the curb in front of your headlights before you struck her?”

“Not more than one or two seconds, at the most.”

“And the defendant threw up her hands just before you struck her?”

“Yes.”

“Show the jury just how she did it.” Mason said.

The witness held up his hands, palms outward.

“As though trying to push the automobile back?” Mason asked sympathetically.

“That’s it exactly.”

“You saw both of her hands?”

“Yes.”

“Was she wearing gloves?”

“Yes, black gloves.”

“You’re certain you could see both of her hands plainly?”

“Yes, sir. That is etched on my memory, so I’ll never forget it.”

“You could see the palms of both of her hands?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And she was wearing gloves?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which one of her hands could you see the most clearly?”

The witness, feeling that Mason was trying to trap him, grew indignant. “I could see both of them equally well,” he said. “She was standing facing me. She had her hands up like this, as though trying to push the automobile away.”

Mason appeared to have been defeated. He abandoned that line of cross-examination with the bad grace of one who is retreating hastily in order to save himself from rout. “Now then, after you struck this woman, you stopped your car?”

“Yes, sir... Understand, I’d started to stop the car before I hit her.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “Where was she lying when you stopped the car?”

“I stopped the car almost at the moment of impact. She was lying right by the right rear wheel.”

“You got out of the car on the right side?” Mason asked.

“No, sir,” Diggers corrected him, “on the left side. I opened the door nearest the steering wheel.”

“Then you walked around the car to where the defendant was lying?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Around the front, or around the back?”

“Around the back.”

“What did you do?”

“I picked her up and felt for a pulse, then tried to carry her over nearer to the sidewalk. I was just picking her up when some other people came to help me.”

“Do you know who these other people were?”

“No,” Diggers said, “although I have the names of some of the witnesses who helped me inventory the contents of the bag.”

“Oh, yes,” Mason said casually. “Now, let’s see. You were pretty much excited at the time, weren’t you?”

“Well, I was startled, but I didn’t lose my head at all.”

“And you remember everything which occurred very vividly?”

“Yes, sir, the entire occurrence is etched vividly in my mind.”

Mason inquired casually, “Then after you had carried the defendant over to the curb, you first saw this bag lying on the road, is that right?”

Diggers said, “No, sir, that isn’t when I first saw it. I first saw it when the defendant left the curb.”

Mason was on his feet, pointing his finger. “I thought” he thundered, “that the defendant raised up her gloved hands in this manner, as though to push back the automobile that you saw; one hand just as clearly as you saw the other. Now, kindly tell the jury how that could have been possible if the defendant had been holding a bag such as this bag which you have identified, at the time?”