Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Stepdaughter’s Secret

“Aboard my yacht, the Jinesa , on the tenth.”

“You had been aboard the yacht previously with someone else?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“With Irwin Victor Fordyce.”

“You had taken him down to the yacht?”

“Yes.”

“And he was the young man that Drew Kirby had seen with you that night?”

“Oh now, just a minute, just a minute,” Robley Hastings interposed. “I’m here representing the press but I don’t like to have you lead the witness into all these statements. You couldn’t do it in court and I don’t think you should do it here.

“I now see why you have staged this elaborate press interview. It’s so you can put words in the witness’ mouth.”

Mason said, “You’re here as a representative of the press, not as the district attorney. I’m conducting this interview in my own way. Now sit down and shut up.”

“As a representative of the press I don’t have to either sit down or shut up,” Hastings said.

“All right,” Mason said, “I’m running the show. I’m giving the conditions under which Mrs Bancroft will tell her story. How about it, gentlemen, do you want her to go ahead and tell it my way, or do you want to have the interview called off because the district attorney, who is here masquerading as a representative of the press, thinks that my questions are irregular?”

A chorus of voices said, “No! No! Handle it your way. We want the story. We’d like to question her afterwards.”

“You can question her all you want afterwards,” Mason said, “but she’s going to tell her story under conditions which are fair to her. And she isn’t going to be browbeaten by the district attorney, nor am I going to be browbeaten by him.”

“Let her go ahead,” one of the reporters said.

“I still protest,” Hastings said. “I—”

“Shut up, Hastings!” one of the newspaper reporters interrupted. “You keep on talking and you’re going to kill a hell of a good story. Now shut up!”

“How dare you talk to me that way?” Hastings asked.

“I dare to talk to you that way because I’m a working newspaperman. I’m a representative of an out-of-town newspaper but still in the county. My rag fought against you when you were running for office and we’re going to fight against you when you run for office again. In the meantime you’re not going to kill a good story with a lot of courtroom technicalities.”

Hastings started to say something, then subsided into silence.

“Now then, go on, tell us what happened,” Mason said to Mrs Bancroft. “What were you trying to do with Fordyce? Why did you take him down to the yacht club?”

“Because I wanted him to take our yacht and go to Catalina in it.”

“Why?”

“I wanted him where Gilly couldn’t find him.”

“And why did you want him where Gilly couldn’t find him?”

“Because I thought Gilly had... well, I thought Gilly wasn’t to be trusted. I thought Gilly would try to find him and get information from him and use that information against me and against people I care for.”

“All right, what happened?” Mason said.

“I wanted to get some money for him. I didn’t have very much money in my purse, so I went to some friends who I knew kept cash on hand. I’m not going to mention their names but they cashed a three-thousand-dollar cheque for me. They don’t want to be brought into this and it’s very understandable why they don’t.”

“Why don’t they?” Mason asked.

“Because they keep several thousand dollars in cash in the house all the time and if that word got around it would simply make them a target for holdups.”

“That’s very understandable,” Mason said. “Now, what happened? You got the money and rowed back to the boat. What happened when you got aboard?”

“The motor was running, idling. I tied up the dinghy and boarded the boat and went down to the cabin. Then I saw this figure up in the bow, pulling in the anchor chain. I thought that it was Fordyce. I switched on a light in the cabin. The man at the bow of the boat saw the light, made a half-hitch of the anchor chain around the bitt in the bow of the boat, turned and came back to the cabin.

“Before he entered the cabin he had engaged the clutch and the boat was running forward at slow speed, dragging an undetermined amount of anchor chain.”

“Go ahead,” Mason said.

“It was then I realized that this man was not Fordyce, but was Gilly. I asked him where Fordyce was, I asked him what he had done with Fordyce, and he made no answer.”

“What was the weather?” Mason asked.

“There was a heavy fog.”

“And the boat was running in this fog?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently on any course, or just aimlessly?”

“Apparently on some course which this man had set.”

“What happened?”

“I became frightened. I started backing up and he moved slowly toward me. I asked him again where Fordyce was and he started for me with his hands outstretched as though he intended to choke me.”

“Now, that’s a conclusion,” Hastings said. “You don’t know that he intended to choke you.”

“Shut up!” the out-of-town reporter said. “ We’ll question her after she gives her story.”

Mrs Bancroft said, “Well, he certainly looked as though he intended to choke me. He had his hands outstretched and his attitude was menacing in the extreme.”

“What did you do?” Mason asked.

She said, “I was frightened stiff. Then I remembered that I had a gun in my purse.”

“What gun?”

“My husband’s gun.”

“Where did you get that?”

“From a dresser by the side of the bed. The gun was always kept in a drawer in that dresser.”

“And what did you do with it?”

“I pulled it out and pointed it at him and said he was to stop.”

“Was the gun cocked?”

“It was a six-shooter and I cocked it; I knew enough to do that.”

“How did you know enough to do that?”

“Because my husband wanted me to know how to shoot in case of necessity. When we were up at the mountain cabin he always had me shoot several shots at a target there.”

“With this gun?”

“With this same gun.”

“All right,” Mason said, “what happened?”

“The man hesitated a moment, then he started for me again and I was paralysed with fright.

“At that particular moment the dragging anchor struck on the bottom and brought the boat to an abrupt halt; that is, it gave the boat a momentary jar and... I have no conscious recollection of pulling the trigger, but the jar caused me to lose my balance and I did pull the trigger.”

“And what happened?”

“I shot him.”

“Where?”

“Right in the chest.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s where the gun was pointed when it went off and he fell forward.”

“What did you do?”

“Even while he was falling I was running. I dashed to the side of the boat and jumped overboard.”

“Why did you jump overboard?”

“Because I was frightened.”

“What were you frightened of?”

“Of Willmer Gilly.”

“But if you had just shot him and he was dead, why were you frightened of him?”

“I... I don’t know. I guess I... I guess at the time I wasn’t certain I had killed him. I just wanted to get off the boat.”

“What happened to the gun?”

“I’m not certain. I was fumbling, trying to get it back in the purse when I jumped. I think I heard it hit the deck and then splash into the water.”

“And where was the purse?”

“On my arm. That is, I had the strap around my wrist.”

“You don’t know that you took the gun overboard with you?”