Erle Gardner - The Case of the Troubled Trustee

"It was a private detective and no one knew anything about the murder, as yet."

"All right," Dutton said. "You have me convicted in your own mind and-"

"I don't have you convicted in my mind," Mason said. "I simply suggested that you had better tell your lawyer the truth. How did you know it was your gun?"

"I looked at the gun on the ground."

"Then you must have had some light. What did you do, strike a match?"

"I had a small pocket flashlight in my coat. A very small, flat light which has a rechargeable battery. It gives a small field of illumination."

"Then you did have the means of looking around when you got out on the tee for the seventh hole?"

"Yes, I guess so, if I had used it."

"Why didn't you use it?"

"There wasn't any occasion to use it."

Mason said, "After you discovered the body, you did use it?"

"Yes."

"I was wondering," Mason said, "how you identified the body and how you identified the gun."

"Well, that was it. I had this flashlight with me."

"As soon as you recognized the gun as yours, you pocketed the gun and made a beeline for your car?"

"Yes."

Mason said, "I don't think you're that big a damn fool, Dutton. I think you're protecting someone."

"Protecting someone!" Dutton exclaimed.

"That's right."

"I'm trying to protect myself. I wish I could."

"Not with that story, you can't."

"Well, it's the only story I have."

Mason looked at his watch and said, "I have things to do. I'm going to tell you one thing. If you tell that story on the witness stand, you're going to be convicted."

"But why? The story is the truth."

"It may be the truth," Mason said, "but if that's so, it isn't all the truth. You're skipping over some incidents that might make your story convincing. You're trying to conceal things that you think might be against you. Hell, I don't know what you're doing, but every instinct I have as a lawyer tells me that once someone starts cross-examining you on that story, you're going to find yourself boxed in."

"No lawyer can cross-examine me and confuse me when I'm telling the truth," Dutton said.

"Exactly," Mason told him. "That's why I think you're going to be confused."

"Try it," Dutton invited. "Try cross-examining me."

"All right," Mason said, adopting a sneering, sarcastic attitude, "I'll pretend I'm the district attorney. Now, you answer questions. You're on the witness stand."

"Go right ahead," Dutton said.

"You had this flashlight in your pocket?" Mason said.

"Yes, sir."

"Why did you have it?"

"So I could- Well, I thought I might have to use it."

"For what purpose?"

"To identify the man I was to meet."

"You knew him?"

"I'd- Well, I talked with him over the telephone."

"Oh," Mason said, "you were going to use the flashlight then to identify his voice, is that right?"

"Well, I thought I'd take the flashlight along. It might come in handy."

"And it did come in very, very handy, didn't it?" Mason said sarcastically. "It enabled you to identify the body, to make sure he was very, very dead. It enabled you to search the body, to cut the labels off his clothes, to be certain you left nothing at all on the body so the corpse could readily be identified."

"I didn't say I had made sure he was dead."

"Well, then you didn't feel for a pulse?"

"No."

"In other words, the man might have been wounded and you simply took off for Ensenada on a vacation leaving a badly wounded man dying there on the golf course?"

"I could tell he was dead."

"How?"

"By- Well, he'd been shot."

"How did you know he'd been shot?"

"The gun was there."

"You found the gun with the aid of the flashlight?"

"Yes."

"And you knew it was your gun as soon as you saw it?"

"Yes."

"How? Did you check the numbers on the gun?"

"No, I… I recognized it."

"What was there about it that enabled you to recognize it?"

"The size, the shape."

"A thirty-eight-caliber Smith and Wesson short-barreled revolver?"

"Yes."

"Any distinguishing features about it?"

"Well… I just knew it was my gun, that's all."

"Certainly," Mason said, "you knew it was your gun because you had it in your pocket when you went out on the golf links. You knew it was your gun because you had loaded it and intended to murder the man who was trying to blackmail you. You knew it was your gun and you knew that you didn't dare to be caught with it in your possession. So you stopped your car in the middle of your flight and threw the gun under the culvert, hoping that it would remain there undiscovered."

Dutton cringed under Mason's sarcastic manner.

The lawyer got to his feet. "All right," he said. "That's a very weak sample of what you'll have to contend with. Hamilton Burger can be a demon when it comes to cross-examination.

"Think it over, Mr. Dutton.

"Whenever you're ready to change your story, send for me."

"What are you going to do?" Dutton asked. "Quit the case? Plead me guilty?"

"Are you guilty?" Mason asked.

"No."

"I never let a client plead guilty if he isn't guilty," Mason said. "I don't believe in it. I try to find the truth."

"You think I'm telling the truth?"

"No," Mason said, "but I still don't think you're a murderer. I think you're just a rotten liar. I hope you either improve by the time you get on the witness stand, or else have a different story to tell."

And with that, Mason signaled the officer who was waiting at the door of the conference room.

The lawyer walked out, and the barred door clanged shut.

Desere Ellis said, "Oh, Mr. Mason, I'm so glad to see you. Isn't this simply too terrible for anything?"

Mason said, "These things nearly always look blacker at the start; then after the facts begin to come to light the case looks better. Are you willing to talk with me?"

"Willing? Why, I'm anxious! I've been wondering how I could get in touch with you. Tell me, how is the case against Kerry? Does it look bad? All I know is that he's been arrested."

"That," Mason said, "is something I can't tell you. I'm Kerry's attorney. I want you to understand that. I'm here as Kerry Dutton's lawyer. I'm representing him and no one else.

"Now, Dutton may be representing you, in a way, but that doesn't mean that I'm representing you. My whole interest in this case is to protect Kerry Dutton against the charges that have been made against him and to get an acquittal, if possible. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"All right," Mason said, "let's talk."

"Won't you be seated?" she asked, indicating a comfortable chair.

Mason said, "Thank you," and dropped into the chair.

"May I get you a drink?"

"No," Mason said, smiling, "I'm on duty and when I'm on duty I prefer not to drink. Now then, tell me about Dutton's gun."

"About… Dutton's… gun!"

"That's right."

Her eyes were wide with panic. "What about it?"

"Did he loan it to you?"

"Why… why, yes."

"Where is it?" Mason asked.

"In the drawer, in my bedroom."

"Let's go get it," Mason said.

"All right. I'll bring it to you."

"If it's all the same with you, I'd like to go with you," Mason said.

"Why?"

"One might say, to see how good an actress you are."

"What do you mean?" she flared.

"If you're telling the truth," Mason said, "I think I can detect it. If you're not, I think I can also tell that. It may make a big difference."

"In what way?"

"Let's get the gun first and then I'll tell you."

"All right," she said, "come with me."

She led the way down a passageway, opened the door of a typically feminine room, walked over to a dresser by the bed, triumphantly opened the drawer and then recoiled with her hand on her breast.