Erle Gardner - The Case of the Runaway

Mabel Norge’s attorney arose and said, “There again I am forced to advise my client not to answer the question. I will say to the Court and counsel that Mr. Mason’s surmise may well represent a true statement of fact, but I refuse to permit my client to place herself in the position of admitting certain acts or conceding certain facts.”

“That’s all.” Mason said, smiling.

Vandling looked nuzzled

Mason shook his head and said, “I would like to have Dr. Renault recalled for further cross-examination.”

“Take the stand, Dr. Renault.” Judge Siler said.

Mason slowly got up from behind the counsel table, walked over to the witness chair and stood looking down at Dr. Renault.

“Doctor,” he said, “you saw Edward Davenport as a patient on the morning of Monday, the twelfth?”

“I have already stated that several times.”

“And treated him as a patient?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he recited symptoms of arsenic poisoning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You didn’t personally see those symptoms?”

“I saw secondary symptoms which could have been identified with the prior initial symptoms which he described. I didn’t see the primary symptoms which he had described which had taken place in my absence.”

“Very neatly answered, Doctor,” Mason said. “Now let me ask you a question which may cause you a little trouble. Did you also see Edward Davenport on the day preceding—on Sunday, the eleventh?”

Dr. Renault said, “That is beside the question. That doesn’t have any bearing on my professional treatment.”

“Oh yes it does,” Mason said. “You saw Edward Davenport when he was registered at the Welchburg Motel here in Fresno under the name of Frank L. Stanton, didn’t you, Doctor?”

“I—do I have to answer that, Your Honor?” Dr. Renault asked.

Vandling, suddenly on his feet, said, “You certainly do.”

“I’m asking the Court,” Dr. Renault said.

“It is a pertinent question. Answer it,” Judge Siler said.

“I—yes, I saw him.”

“And discussed certain matters with him?”

“I talked with him.”

“And you discussed with him certain treatment that you were to give him the next day, Monday, the twelfth, did you not?”

“I refuse to recount any conversation which took place between my patient and me.”

“Why?”

“It’s a privileged communication.”

“Only to the extent that you had to find out necessary symptoms for the purpose of administering treatment”

“My conversation with Mr. Davenport had to do with certain symptoms.”

“Mr. Davenport told you that he wanted to die, didn’t he?”

“I am not going to mention the conversation I had with Mr. Davenport.”

“Mr. Davenport paid you money in order to set the stage so that apparently he could pass away. It was agreed that he was to call you for treatment the next morning and relate symptoms of arsenic poisoning, that you were to help him simulate a state of collapse following arsenic poisoning so that he could apparently pass away while his wife was present. Isn’t that true?”

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

“You have to answer it,” Mason said. “It doesn’t relate to any confidential communication.”

Vandling, on his feet, said, “If that question is answered in the affirmative it indicates a conspiracy, a crime. It is not a privileged communication, Your Honor.”

“It certainly does not call for a privileged communication,” Judge Siler said.

“Then I don’t have to answer,” Dr. Renault said, “because it would incriminate me.”

“Do you refuse to answer on that ground?” Judge Siler asked.

“I do.”

“This is a most unusual situation,” said the judge.

Mason said, “In accordance with this plan which had been worked out and which you and Davenport had carefully rehearsed, you reported that the man was dead. You reported that you would have to call the authorities. You locked up the cabin but didn’t call the authorities immediately, giving Ed Davenport an opportunity to get out of the window and jump in a car which had been conveniently parked immediately adjacent to the window of the cabin in which he was supposed to have died, and drive to a predetermined rendezvous. There was a house trailer parked at this place. Ed Davenport had the key to that house trailer. It was equipped with new clothing so that he could get rid of his pajamas and dress himself, wasn’t it?”

“I refuse to answer.”

“And,” Mason went on, “he told you that he had been embezzling money from his wife’s separate property, didn’t he? And he said his wife had an officious relative who was constantly insisting that Mrs. Davenport demand an accounting and that the game was about up, that he had juggled many thousands of dollars so that he had them in the form of cash, that if he didn’t disappear he would be detected and prosecuted. Didn’t he tell you that and ask you to help him?”

“I refuse to answer on my constitutional rights.”

“And didn’t he tell you that he had poisoned Hortense Paxton, that the authorities now suspected that her death had been murder and that he felt they would exhume the body, that he wanted to have them think he was dead when that happened and that you were to be paid generously to help him?”

“I refuse to answer.”

“And,” Mason went on, “after Davenport went to that house trailer you gave him some whisky containing cyanide of potassium. You knew that he had suitcases containing a large amount of money which he had been accumulating by a process of juggling the assets of his wife. You gave him that whisky and—”

“I did not. I absolutely did not.” Dr. Renault shouted. “I had no idea what the suitcases contained. And if you’re so smart you had better get the other party to the conspiracy, the one who was going to drive the house trailer over to Nevada for him.”

“You are referring now, I take it, to Jason L. Beckemeyer, a private detective at Bakersfield?”

“I am,” Dr. Renault snapped.

Mason turned to Vandling and said, “And now, Mr. District Attorney, I suggest by mutual consent we continue this case, that Dr. Renault be taken into custody and that a warrant be issued for the arrest of Jason L. Beckemeyer. I think that by the time we get done taking a statement from Dr. Renault we’ll find out what actually happened.”

Vandling was on his feet. “The prosecution wishes to announce its indebtedness to Mr. Perry Mason for his excellent co-operation, and at this time, if the Court please, I move to dismiss the case against the defendant, Myrna Davenport.”

Chapter 15

Mason, Della Street, Paul Drake and Talbert Vandling, seated around a table in the living room of Mason’s suite at the Californian Hotel, touched glasses.

“Here’s to crime,” Vandling said.

They drank.

“What gets me,” Vandling went on, “is the manner in which the Los Angeles district attorney warned me that you had cloven feet, horns on your head, a tail, and a smell of sulphurous brimstone about you. Thanks to your co-operation with me, people are talking up and down the street about my detective ability.”

“That’s fine,” Mason said. “If a few more of them would cooperate with me we might get along a lot better. Tell us about Dr. Renault.”

“Dr. Renault made a complete statement,” Vandling said. “He was given no promises of immunity or otherwise. After thinking things over he decided he had better clear his conscience as best he could.

“There seems to be no doubt about what happened. You called the turn. Davenport had poisoned Hortense Paxton so his wife would get the Delano money. Then he started turning everything he could get hold of into cash, juggling funds and leaving accounts in a mess. Also he started laying the foundations for his wife’s conviction of Hortense Paxton’s death if there should be any investigation.”