Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Careless Kitten

He opened quietly. “The prosecution can’t shift the burden of proof to the defendant until it has first proven the defendant guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.

“I submit to you, ladies and gentlemen, that Franklin Shore was not present at Lunk’s residence when Della Street arrived there. The reason I have introduced no testimony is that the evidence of the prosecution proves my point conclusively.

“I will not comment on the evidence of the flour. I will comment only on the actions of the kitten. Someone opened the flour can. Some object was placed in that can, perhaps the gun, perhaps the currency, perhaps both. The kitten, a playful, careless, fearless animal, attracted by the motion of the hands over the can of flour, jumped into the flour can and was promptly tossed out. The kitten thereupon ran through the partially opened door, into the back bedroom and jumped upon the bed.

“It must be perfectly obvious that the bed was then vacant, equally obvious that the kitten forthwith jumped down on the other side of the bed and went directly through the bathroom to jump on the bed in the front bedroom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I will ask the prosecution, since this is a case of circumstantial evidence, to explain one thing to you — and preparatory to that, let me remind you that inasmuch as this is a case of circumstantial evidence, the law is that you must acquit the defendant unless the evidence not only indicates beyond all reasonable doubt the guilt of the defendant, but cannot be explained upon any reasonable hypothesis other than that of her guilt. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, why did the kitten, after getting in the flour and after jumping on the bed of Franklin B. Shore, leave that bed to go into the front bedroom and curl upon the bed in there?

“Having relied upon circumstantial evidence, it is up to the district attorney to explain every bit of it. Therefore, in the morning, let the district attorney answer that interesting question as to the conduct of the kitten. And some of you, who are quite probably familiar with cats, their psychology, their habits, will doubtless have an answer of your own.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes my argument.”

Several of the jurors looked puzzled, but two of the feminine members were nodding and smiling as though they had already grasped the point which was causing Hamilton Burger to scowl blackly.

Judge Lankershim himself seemed also to have some knowledge of kittens, for there was a smile playing about the corners of his lips, and a twinkle in his eyes as he admonished the jurors not to form any opinion as to the merits of the case, not to discuss it among themselves, or permit it to be discussed in their presence, and adjourned court until the next day at ten o’clock, remarking that the defendant was on bail and would be released upon that same bail until the next morning at ten o’clock.

As soon as court had adjourned and the Judge had left the bench, Hamilton Burger came pushing his way across to Mason.

“Mason, what the devil does this mean?”

Mason smiled affably. “I’m sure I couldn’t say, Burger. All I’m doing is defending Miss Street against a criminal charge. I don’t think the jury will convict her, do you?”

Burger said, “To hell with that. We all have a duty to perform — apprehending a murderer. Did Franklin Shore do it?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.”

Lunk came through the rail which separated the counsel tables from the spectators. “I want to talk with the district attorney.”

“What is it?” Burger asked, turning to him.

Lunk said, “Franklin Shore may have put that gun in the flour, but I don’t think he did. And I know darn well he didn’t put the money in there.”

“How do you know that?” Mason asked.

“Because Shore was trying to get me to give him some money,” Lunk said.

“You didn’t do it?”

“No.”

“Why?” Mason asked.

“Because I wanted him to stay where he was until I’d had a chance to talk with Mrs. Shore.”

“And why was he so anxious to get money and get away?” Mason asked. “Come on, Lunk. You told me that you might let me know what it was Shore really told you. Now, you’ve done a lot of covering up. Suppose you come clean now.”

“I reckon I better,” Lunk said. “Shore came to the house. He was nervous. He said that he’d had some trouble with a man and had shot him. He said he had to get away quick, that he’d had to shoot to keep the other guy from shooting him, but he was afraid the police might think it was murder. He said Matilda wouldn’t like anything better than to get him in a spot. I told him I thought he’d better talk with her anyway before he left, and he didn’t want to, so I told him that he could hide at my place, but that as soon as I could get in touch with Mrs. Shore the next morning, I’d try and get an advance on my salary and give him a stake so he could get out. After I told him that, he went to bed and to sleep. That’s when I went out to see Mrs. Shore. I wanted to tell her I’d seen her husband. I wanted to see whether she wanted to stake him or whether she didn’t.”

“If she hadn’t,” Mason asked, “would you have surrendered Shore to the police?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Mason. Shore had used me pretty square. Understand, I didn’t intend to tell Mrs. Shore that he was staying at my house. I was going to tell her that I’d seen him. I was trying to give them both a square deal.”

Mason said, “Go ahead, Lunk, tell the district attorney the whole truth. You’ve got to do it now. Tell him what Shore told you about where he’d been.”

“He didn’t... we didn’t talk much.”

“At least as long as it took him to smoke a cigar,” Mason said. “Tell Mr. Burger what he said.”

Lunk hesitated, then blurted, “Well, he ran away with that woman.”

“Where and why?” Mason asked.

“It was like I told you,” Lunk said. “When Franklin Shore was down in Florida people began to mistake him for another man. Shore looked this man up. They might have been twins. So they had a joke and had their pictures taken, and Shore started joshing his wife that he was going to tell this man all about the people he knew and have the guy be at the bridge parties as his stooge.

“Then Shore fell in love with this younger woman, so he got the idea that he maybe could disappear, take this dame with him, and go to Florida, and start training this other guy to be his double, telling him all about his business affairs and the people he was dealing with.

“Then after six months, when this man had everything all down pat, he would show up and claim he was Shore. He’d say his mind had suddenly gone blank, and even after his memory got back he was still shaky.

“Well, Shore did it. Things went fine. Inside of six months his double was all ready, so Shore sent a postal card to his niece from Miami. He figured police would come and find this double, apparently still in sort of a daze, but claiming to be Shore. And his memory would come back a little at a time. Of course, he’d be too sick to be very active in business, but he’d draw plenty of dough from his investments and he’d send the real Shore a cut out of it, and Franklin Shore would take the other guy’s name, and marry this dame and it would be okay. Then the night Franklin Shore sent the postal, this guy was killed in an auto accident. Well, there was Shore with his bridges all burned up, holding the sack.”

“How about Leech?” Mason asked.

“Leech had got the boss sold on his mine. So the boss had given Leech some dough in cash to put in the mine, saying it wasn’t from him, but from a guy in Florida — and Leech, thinking the Florida guy was a sucker, froze him out when he struck it rich... Of course, the boss was the real Florida guy. He’d just given Leech a phony name.