Erle Gardner - The Case of the Runaway

“I believe so. You told me you put it in the safe.”

“And then this morning we got together again?”

“That’s right.”

“And decided we’d better see what was in the letter?”

“That’s right.”

“And we cut it open?”

“Yes.”

“And there was nothing in it except several sheets of blank paper?”

“That’s right.”

“So then we started examining the envelope and decided it looked as though it might have been tampered with?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So we called in a man who is an expert in such matters and he told us that the gum arabic, or whatever it was that had originally been placed on the flap of the envelope with which to seal it, had been pretty well removed by being moistened and that the envelope had been steamed open and then sealed with mucilage and that this had probably been done within the last twenty-four hours?”

“That’s right.”

“All right,” Halder said, turning to Mason, “what have you to say about that?”

“I’d say that you asked the questions very rapidly,” Mason said, “and that Boom answered them without the least hesitancy.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. I mean what have you to say about the accuracy of his statements?”

“Oh, good heavens,” Mason said. “You’ve taken me entirely by surprise. You specifically told me that I wasn’t to say anything when his statements were inaccurate.”

“I meant I didn’t want you to interrupt.”

“That wasn’t the way you expressed it, I’m sure. You told me particularly to keep quiet.”

“Well, I’m asking you to talk now.”

“In what way?”

“I’m asking you to comment on Boom’s statements.”

“I’m quite certain they’re not correct,” Mason said. “Now wait a minute, Mr. Boom, don’t get angry. I think that you feel they’re correct, but I don’t think that they are correct.”

“In what respect are they wrong?” Halder asked.

“Oh, in many respects. For instance, I believe you said Davenport had written on the envelope in his handwriting that in the event of his death it was to be turned over to the officers.”

“That’s right.”

Mason turned to Boom. “You’d seen Davenport in his lifetime?”

“That’s right.”

“You didn’t know he was dead?”

“I don’t know he’s dead even now. I’ve been told he’s dead.”

“Now,” Mason said, smiling, “you’re answering the questions the way I think you should, Mr. Boom. You’re confining your statements to your own knowledge. Now you stated that that was Mr. Davenport’s handwriting on the envelope. You don’t know whether that was Davenport’s handwriting, do you?”

“Mabel Norge told me it was.”

“I know, I know,” Mason said. “That’s hearsay. You don’t know that it was in Davenport’s handwriting.”

“Certainly not.”

“Now just a moment,” Halder said. “I didn’t bring Boom in here to be cross-examined.”

Mason became angry for the first time. “What are you trying to do to me?” he asked “Are you trying to jockey me into a position where I can be misquoted?”

Halder jumped up from the chair. “What are you insinuating?” he demanded.

Mason said, “I’m not insinuating. I’m asking. First you tell me not to say anything if Boom’s statements are incorrect. Then you challenge me to point out where they’re incorrect. I start asking Boom questions in order to show by Boom’s own statements where his answers are incorrect and you jump up and charge that I have no right to cross-examine Boom.”

“Well, you haven’t.”

“I’m not cross-examining him.”

“Well, it sounded like it to me.”

“I’m simply trying to do what you told me to, to point out where his statements are incorrect.”

“Well, that’s what I call cross-examining. Point out someplace where he’s made a wrong statement. I defy you to show anyplace where he has stated anything that isn’t true.”

“Why, there were lots of places,” Mason said.

“Name one,” Halder challenged.

“For instance,” Mason said, “you have said a couple of times that the envelope contained the endorsement in Davenport’s handwriting that in the event of his death it was to be turned over to the officers.”

“Well, I’ve explained now that I only know it was his handwriting because of what Mabel Norge told me,” Boom said.

“So you don’t know it’s his handwriting?”

“I don’t know it, no,” Boom shouted.

“Well then,” Mason said, “how do you know that the envelope contained the endorsement that it was to be turned over to the officers in the event of his death?”

“I saw it,” Boom yelled. “I saw that with my own eyes.”

“Now just a minute,” Mason said, “don’t let your anger run away with you, Boom. You’re a nice, observing officer. You don’t mean that.”

“I mean every word of it.”

“That wasn’t what was on the envelope,” Mason said.

“Well, that’s the effect of it. And I remember that’s what Mabel Norge told me was on the envelope.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “Now if the district attorney will kindly show you the envelope, Mr. Boom, you’ll find that that isn’t what was on the envelope at all. The only words on the envelope are ‘To be opened in the event of my death and the contents delivered to the authorities’ and that is followed by what purports to be the signature of Ed Davenport.”

“Well, isn’t that the same thing?” Halder asked.

“Certainly not,” Mason retorted. “In the one instance the instructions would have been that the envelope had been left in a sort of escrow to be delivered to the authorities unopened. But under the instructions actually written on the back of the envelope Mr. Davenport instructed his legal representatives—provided, of course, the words were in his handwriting—first to open the envelope and then, and only then, to deliver the contents to the authorities.”

There was a complete, sickening silence in the office.

“So you see,” Mason said, beaming at Boom, “Mabel Norge described a different envelope. So it wasn’t the pages inside of the envelope that had been substituted but it must have been the whole envelope. The envelope containing the message that Mabel Norge described to you couldn’t be found. The envelope which she produced was an entirely different envelope from what she said it was because it had a different message.”

“Now wait a minute,” Halder said. “That’s the sheerest nonsense. You’re trying to confuse the issues.”

Mason said, “Sir, I consider that as an insult. I am simply trying to clarify the issues. I defy you to analyze any one of my statements here and find anything in it which tends to confuse any issue. I came up here in a spirit of co-operation. I could have told you to go to the devil. I could have told you to get a subpoena or issue a warrant, or try to make me appear before a grand jury—and if I had appeared before the grand jury I could have insisted upon your questions being technically accurate.

“As it is, I have chartered an airplane at great expense to myself. I have closed up my office for a day at a time when the most urgent demands were being made for my services. I have explained my position to you. I have asked you to put yourself in my position and to advise me if I should do anything different.

“You yourself, as an attorney, don’t dare to advise me to do anything different, and now you’re accusing me of confusing the issues. I don’t like it. I—dammit, sir, you may consider my cooperation withdrawn. I have nothing further to state.”

“You’re going to have a lot more to state,” Halder said. “You’re in my county now. You aren’t going to leave it without my permission.”