Erle Gardner - The Case of the Drowning Duck

Mason shook his head sadly. “Too bad you’ve turned the officers loose on Adams. They’re going to arrest him for murder on no evidence other than that of the duck. The officer has said that the duck was drowning. Poor little chap. He had doubtless become very much attached to Marvin Adams, and when Adams went away and left him in the fish bowl up there at Milter’s place, the duck decided to commit suicide by drowning. I suppose all the excitement incident to the discovery of Milter’s body made him change his mind. He decided that life was, after all, worth living. He...”

“Stop it!” Witherspoon yelled. “I don’t give a damn what my arrangement is with you. I’m not going to have you sit there and treat me as though I were — as though I were—”

Mason took a deep drag at his cigarette and announced, “That is a mere foretaste of what you’ve let yourself in for. A good attorney for the defense will rip you wide open in front of a jury. If there was something in the water to have made the duck drown, he’d have gone ahead and drowned. Evidently the duck changed its mind. The lawyer who tries this case is going to get you in rather a hot spot.”

“We don’t have lawyers like that down here,”Witherspoon said, with an ugly look, “and I have some position in the community. When I say that’s my duck, my word will be taken for it. There won’t be all of this cross-examination.”

“And when the officer says the duck was drowning, the lawyers down here won’t question that statement?”

“Well,” Witherspoon said, and hesitated, then added, “Well, the officer said the duck looked as though it were drowning.”

“But no local attorney will give you a cross-examination such as I have just outlined?”

“Definitely not.”

“Why?”

“In the first place, an attorney wouldn’t think of it, and in the second place, I wouldn’t stand for it.”

“But if young Adams is charged with crime,” Mason said, “he might not be defended by a local lawyer. He might be defended by a Los Angeles lawyer.”

“What Los Angeles lawyer would take the case of a young kid of that sort who has no money, no friends, no...”

Mason took the cigarette from his mouth, locked his eyes with those of Witherspoon, and said, “ I would.”

It took three or four seconds for the full effect of Mason’s remark to soak into Witherspoon’s consciousness. “You would! But you are employed by me!”

“To solve the mystery of that old murder case. Nothing was said about any other case. Could I quote you, to your daughter, for instance, as saying you have any objections?”

Witherspoon smoked nervously. “I guess I have no objection, but... well, of course, you’ll understand that I can’t be placed in an undignified position. All this business about the identification of a duck.”

Mason got to this feet. “There’s just one way to avoid that.”

“How?”

“By not identifying the duck.”

“But I already have.”

Mason said, “Call up the police and tell them, now that you’ve thought it over, you realize one duck looks very much like another, that all you can say is this duck is similar in size, color, and appearance to one which you were advised Marvin Adams took with him when he left your ranch this evening.”

Witherspoon rubbed his fingers along the angle of his jaw while he considered that suggestion. “Hang it, Mason, it’s the same duck. You can quibble as much as you want to, but you know as well as I do it’s the same duck.”

Mason smiled down at his host. “Do you want to go over all that again?” he asked.

“Good Lord, no! We don’t get anywhere with that.”

“You’d better get in touch with the police, then, and change your mind about the identification on that duck.”

Witherspoon shook his head obstinately.

Mason regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “They told me you left here shortly after I did.”

“Yes. I chased you all the way into town, but couldn’t catch you.”

“You probably passed me on the road,” Mason said. “I had a flat tire.”

Witherspoon frowned as though trying to recall some event, then said, “I don’t remember having seen any car by the side of the road. I was going pretty fast.”

“A car went past me,” Mason said, “doing about eighty.”

“That must have been where I missed you.”

“Where did you go?” Mason asked.

“To town.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s how you happened to go to Milter’s place?”

“Yes.”

“The only reason?”

“Yes.”

“You must have been in town about thirty minutes before you went there.”

“I doubt if it was that long.”

“You didn’t go there first?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Witherspoon hesitated perceptibly, then said, “I did drive past that address as soon as I got to town. I didn’t see your car parked there, so I cruised around town for a while looking for you. I thought I saw... someone I knew. I tried to find her... I doubt if it was as much as thirty minutes.”

“Wait a minute. Let’s get this straight. You thought you saw someone you knew — a woman, but you couldn’t find her?”

“It was a case of mistaken identity. I was driving down the main street cruising around, looking for you, when I caught a glimpse of this woman, just as she was turning a corner. I’d already gone past the intersection, so I turned the corner at the next block and tried to find her by running around the block.”

“Who was this woman?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said she was a friend.”

“No. I only thought she was a friend.”

“Who?”

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Mrs. Burr.”

“It wasn’t she?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked the night nurse if Mrs. Burr was out. She said Mrs. Burr had gone to bed early.”

“She and her husband have separate rooms?”.

“They do now — after the accident. Before that, they occupied the same room.”

“A nurse is with Burr all the time?”

“Yes, for the present — until after he gets back to a normal state of mind.”

“What’s the matter with his mind?”

“Oh, the usual irresponsibility which follows the use of morphia in some cases. The doctor says it isn’t unusual. He got pretty flighty for a while. His leg’s tied up to a weight though a pulley in the ceiling. They caught him trying to untie the rope. He said he had to get out of there because someone was trying to kill him. The doctor says it’s a post-narcotic reaction, and that it’s all right, but he has to be watched. If he’d managed to get out of bed, he’d have got that fracture out of position and it would have had to be set all over again.”

Mason looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve got work to do.”

“Aren’t you going to stay here tonight?”

Mason shook his head, started for the door, then paused to say, “I’m telling you for the last time — ring up the police and change your identification of that duck.”

Driving toward town, Della Street said, “You whisked me out of there so fast I didn’t have an opportunity to get it all straight. What happened?”

“Milter was murdered.”

“By whom?”

“The police are going to nominate Marvin Adams within about twelve hours unless we do some fast work.”

“Is that why Lois went running out?”

Mason grinned. “ I wouldn’t know.”

“Why didn’t you let me do it, Chief?”

“Do what?”

“Whatever had to be done.”

“I wanted to keep it all in the family.”