Erle Gardner - The Case of the Drowning Duck

She said, “But what are we going to do about the duck?”

“Go tell your story if you want,” Mason said. “It won’t help your father any at this time. It’ll drag Marvin into it, bring out all of that scandal, probably cause the boy either to commit suicide, or, in any event, will send him rushing away to join the Army without finishing his education — and you know what’ll happen. He’ll try his darndest not to come back. If he does, he’ll never see you.”

She was white-faced, but steady-eyed. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

“Let your conscience be your guide,” Mason said.

She said, “Very well, I’m going out and announce my engagement to Marvin. I’m going to get him to go over to Yuma and we’ll be married tonight. Then I’m going in and tell the judge about the duck.”

Mason said moodily, “About what I expected you’d do.”

She looked at Della Street, saw the sympathy in Della’s eyes, and said savagely, “Don’t sympathize with me. I suppose I could go feminine with very little urging and start bawling, but this is something that takes action, not tears.”

“Suppose he won’t marry you?” Mason asked.

She said, with tight-lipped determination, “I can fix things so he will.”

“And then you’re going to tell about the duck?”

“Yes. I hope it won’t hurt you, or spoil your plans, but I’m going to tell them, anyway. I’m tired of having a lie bottled up inside me.”

“And then what?”

“Then,” she said, “if we can’t prove Marvin’s father was innocent, what’s the difference? Marvin will already be my husband. He can’t run away then.”

“There’ll be a lot of smear stuff in the newspapers,” Mason said.

“Let them smear. What bothers me most is what it’s going to do to you — but I can’t jeopardize my father’s position by keeping silent any longer.”

Mason said, “I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and tell ’em about the duck.”

She suddenly gave him her hand. The cold fingers squeezed his palm. “I guess you’ve done some wonderful things in your life, Mr. Mason, but I think this is about the most wonderful — being such a good sport — and what you did for Marvin, and being willing to have your professional career put in danger — well, thanks.”

Mason patted her on the shoulder. “Go to it,” he said. “You’re a fighter. You can get what you want out of life — if you fight hard enough for it.”

She said, “Well, don’t think I’m not going to fight hard enough,” and started for the door.

They watched in silence while she turned the knob. It was no time for conventional good-bys or the inane formulae of politeness. They simply stood, watching her.

The bell of the telephone exploded the silence. Della Street jumped as though a gun had gone off behind her. Lois Witherspoon paused, waiting.

Mason, being nearest the telephone, scooped it up, placed the receiver to his ear, and said, “Hello... Yes, this is Mason... When?... Very well, I’ll be there right away.”

He dropped the receiver into place, said to Lois Witherspoon, “Go get your boy friend, drive over to Yuma, and get married.”

“I’m going to.”

“And keep quiet about that duck,” Mason said.

She shook her head.

Mason grinned. “You’re not going to have to say anything about it.”

“Why?”

He said, “Your dad’s sent for me. He wants me to come in and act as his lawyer tomorrow.”

She said coldly, “You can’t act as his lawyer, Mr. Mason.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve contributed to building up some of the evidence against him.”

“Ethically, you’re probably right,” Mason said, “but it’s an academic question which you won’t need to worry about — because tomorrow I’m going to walk into court and blow that case against your father into a million pieces of legal wreckage.”

She stood for a moment looking at the determination of his face, the gleam in his eyes. Abruptly, she came toward him. “Would you like to kiss the bride?” she asked.

The courtroom buzzed with excitement as Perry Mason strode past the barrier which separated the counsel table from the spectators and took his seat beside Lawrence Dormer and the defendant.

Judge Meehan called Court to order.

Lawrence Dormer got to his feet. “If the Court please,” he said, “I would like to move that Mr. Perry Mason be associated in the defense of this case.”

“It is so ordered,” Judge Meehan said.

Mason slowly arose. “Now then, Your Honor,” he observed, “upon behalf of the defendant, John L. Witherspoon, we withdraw the objection the defendant made yesterday to the question which the district attorney asked Officer Haggerty. Let the officer go ahead and answer it.”

District Attorney Copeland was more than surprised. It was a moment before he could master his astonishment. Sensing a trap, he got to his feet, and said, “Of course, the Court will understand that the question is asked only for the purpose of showing that the defendant would have had access to similar poisons, a knowledge of their use and application, and a knowledge of the fatal nature of this gas.”

“That is my understanding,” Judge Meehan said.

“I trust that counsel understands it,” Copeland announced, looking across at Perry Mason.

Mason sat down and crossed his knees. “Counsel understands the law — or thinks he does,” he said with a smile.

For a long thirty seconds, District Attorney Copeland hesitated; then he had the question read to the witness and received his answer.

Feeling his way cautiously, Copeland showed the discovery of the body of Leslie Milter, that the poison, its disposition and use were exactly the same as that which had caused the death of Roland Burr.

Copeland also showed that Witherspoon had appeared at the apartment some thirty or forty minutes after the discovery of Milter’s body, that he had then stated to the witness, Haggerty, that he was in search of Perry Mason, who, Haggerty informed him, had just left. Witherspoon had then stated he “had been looking everywhere for Mr. Mason, and had come to Milter’s apartment as a last resort.” The witness stated Witherspoon not only had made no reference to an earlier visit to Milter’s apartment, but had given his hearers to understand that this was the first time he had ever been there.

All of these questions went into the record and were answered without objection. From the extreme care with which Copeland phrased his questions, it was apparent that he was becoming more and more worried.

At the close of Haggerty’s examination, he got to his feet, and said, “If the Court please, this evidence will be connected up by my next witness, by whom we will prove that this defendant was seen leaving Milter’s apartment at just about the time the murder must have been committed. The Court will understand that this course of procedure may be somewhat unusual, that all of this line of evidence is being offered for a very limited purpose, and,” he added triumphantly, “it has been received without objection on the part of the defendant.”

“Any further questions?” Mason asked.

“No. You may cross-examine.”

Mason said, “Mr. Haggerty, when you first entered that apartment, you noticed a goldfish bowl with a small duck in it?”

“Objected to as not proper cross-examination,” Copeland said promptly. “The evidence concerning the murder of Milter was introduced for a very limited purpose. I have no desire to try the murder case at this time.”

“It doesn’t make any difference what you desire,” Mason said. “You opened the door on direct examination far enough to serve your purpose. Under the laws of cross-examination, I have the right to throw it all the way open. And that’s just what I’m going to do, Mr. District Attorney, throw it wide open !”