Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Stepdaughter’s Secret

“We’ll wait until after the evidence has been evaluated,” Mason said. “This comes as a distinct shock to us.”

“Well,” the deputy said, “you seem to have been pretty well prepared for the shock.”

It was six o’clock before the sheriff’s office released Bancroft and Mason. Della Street had been released within a few minutes after the boats had docked.

Driving back in Bancroft’s car, the millionaire gave voice to his doubts.

“Do you suppose they’ve questioned my wife already?” he asked.

Mason said, “Why do you suppose they kept us in custody all this time? Of course they’ve questioned your wife, and your stepdaughter and any of the servants they could get hold of.”

“I told my wife to say absolutely nothing, to say that she would make no statement unless I was present.”

“And when you’re present, what are you going to do?”

“Tell her to say nothing until you instruct her to,” Bancroft said.

Mason said, “You should have called me last night, but you’ve taken the responsibility of advising her and all I can do is to take the situation as I find it and try to make the best I can out of it.

“Right now I’m not satisfied as to what did happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Mason said, “I don’t think you’ve told me all the story.”

Bancroft sat quiet for a few minutes, then said, “All right, Mason, you’ll just have to play it blind. It’s up to the prosecution to prove their case against any defendant. They can’t prove a case against my wife, and I don’t think they can prove a case against me. I want you to act on the assumption that we can’t either one of us afford to make a statement as to what happened last night and that it’s up to the police to make a case.”

“Sometimes,” Mason said, “the police are pretty damned skilful.”

“I know, but they can’t actually prove anything — not with the evidence they have at hand, and of course as soon as they get Gilly’s fingerprints they’ll find out that he’s an ex-convict and presumably a blackmailer.”

“And then they’ll tie his death up with the blackmail note that was found in the coffee can,” Mason said, “and then what?”

“Then,” Bancroft said, “they have a dead blackmailer and a woman who was presumably the victim of the blackmailer, but they can’t prove my wife ever had any personal contact with Gilly and they can’t prove I ever had any personal contact with Gilly.”

“Let’s hope so,” Mason said.

“Usually,” Bancroft said, “when a person is innocent he tells his story fairly and frankly to the police. Sometimes they believe him and sometimes they don’t. If he’s guilty he sits tight and doesn’t say anything and leaves it up to the police to produce every bit of evidence they need to obtain a conviction.”

“And so?” Mason asked.

“So,” Bancroft said, “there’s no reason why an innocent person can’t take advantage of some of the loopholes that are open to a guilty person. In this case we’re going to sit tight and let the police move forward step by step, counting on the fact that they’ll stumble before they reach their goal.”

Mason said, “You have left me no alternative. If you had called me last night when your wife returned to the apartment we could have told a story of self-defence that would have been convincing. It’s too late to tell it now unless we first adopt the position that your wife’s lips are sealed because she’s trying to protect others. That’s the attitude we’re going to have to adopt.”

“Go ahead and adopt it,” Bancroft said.

Mason suddenly said, “All right, I’ll adopt it on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That you tell me what really happened last night.”

“I’ve told you.”

“No, you haven’t,” Mason said. “You’re passing up something. You’re concealing something. I want the truth.”

“You might not represent us if you knew the truth.”

“A person is always entitled to a defence in court,” Mason said, “no matter what the circumstances. I want to know the real facts.”

“All right,” Bancroft said, “I guess you suspect them anyway. My wife came home. She was soaking wet. She had plunged overboard with her clothes on. She told me the story.

“She had decided to let Irwin Fordyce have our yacht. She felt no one would look for him there. She felt that would get him out of circulation until after the wedding, and perhaps until after things blew over.

“Fordyce had had some yachting experience. She picked him up at his apartment, drove him down to the boat, put him aboard the boat, went to get some money for him, and returned to the boat.

“Now, there were lots of provisions on the boat. We always keep it well stocked with canned goods. He could have gone over to Catalina or down to Ensenada and lived the life of a yachtsman almost indefinitely.”

“Go ahead,” Mason said. “Tell me what happened.”

“After my wife got the money and went back to the boat, there was no sign of Fordyce. Gilly was there. Gilly quite evidently intended to kill her. She pulled the gun on him, thinking that he would put up his hands and leave her in control of the situation.

“Instead of that he lunged toward her and at that instant the boat ran aground. My wife involuntarily pulled the trigger. Gilly fell dead at her feet. My wife jumped overboard, waded ashore, got the car and came to our apartment.

“She told me what had happened.

“Now, there’s where I made my mistake. She was almost hysterical. I had a powerful narcotic that had been left with me in case of pain in connection with some gall bladder trouble I had been having. I gave her enough of that narcotic to put her into a deep sleep. I told her we’d tell her story to the police the next day when she felt more like it.”

“And what did you do?” Mason asked.

Bancroft said, “All right, Mason, I’ll tell you the truth. I drove down to the harbour.”

“And got aboard the boat?”

“Mason, so help me, the boat wasn’t in the position where it had been when she left it.”

“What did you intend to do?”

“I intended to get the body of Gilly off the boat, take it out into the ocean, weight it with an anchor and drop it overboard. Then I intended to say nothing about it. No one could connect my wife with Gilly. No one could connect Gilly with my wife. No one could connect Gilly with me.”

“And you couldn’t find the boat?” Mason asked.

“The boat was gone. Remember, the tide was coming in. It was just about low tide when the boat ran aground. The tide had come in and floated the boat and the current had taken it up the bay, but I couldn’t find it because a thick fog had settled in and I was absolutely helpless. I prowled around the waterfront for two or three hours and then finally came home, completely licked.”

“All right,” Mason said, “I’m glad you’ve told me the truth finally. By your actions you burned your bridges. Your wife could have told a story of self-defence that would have been convincing if she had gone at once to the police.”

“Can’t she still tell it? She didn’t know what I had in mind.”

“The hell she didn’t,” Mason said grimly. “Don’t try to tell me that.”

“All right,” Bancroft said, “I did tell her what I had in mind, and I told her to keep her mouth shut — no matter what happened to say nothing to anyone.”

“Let’s hope she follows that advice,” Mason said. “There is a time and a place where she can tell her story, but in the meantime we’ve got to play this blackmail angle for all it’s worth and let it appear that your wife is sacrificing herself and her own best interests for the purpose of protecting someone else.