Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Lonely Heiress

Mason said, “Try and fold that pile of garments so the edges are in the form of an exact rectangle without having some box or a suitcase to act as a pattern.”

Tragg said wearily, “All right, you win. She was unpacking. That is, she’d taken some garments out of the suitcase and put them on top of the bureau.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “So you were mistaken when you said she was packing at the time she was killed. What you meant was that she was unpacking. Is that right?”

“I still don’t think she was unpacking,” Tragg said.

“But you can’t explain the evidence any other way?”

“All right. I withdraw what I said about her packing at the time of her death.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Mason said. “So it now appears that the defendant’s story is not so inherently improbable. Miss Keeling could have suggested that they play tennis.”

“Well, she wouldn’t have taken a bath just before going to play tennis.”

“But in the bathroom, in the soiled clothes hamper, you found a playsuit that was torn and on which there were spots of ink, did you not?”

“That’s right.”

“And if some person had entered the flat after Miss Keeling had dressed herself in a playsuit for the purpose of going to the tennis court, had thrown ink on her, and had also torn that suit, and Miss Keeling had located herself in the bathroom and waited there until her assailant had departed, it then would have been only reasonable to expect that she would have divested herself of the torn playsuit and taken a bath to wash off any stains of ink that were on her skin. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, sure,” Tragg said sarcastically, “go ahead. You can make an explanation that will fit anything, provided, of course, you concede those impossibilities. Go ahead and prove that some person called on her and threw ink on her.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “I think I will, Lieutenant. That, I believe, is all.”

“That’s all, Lieutenant,” Hanover said.

Judge Osborn said, “At this time, in view of the fact that Mr. Endicott wishes to have his check back, I think that it will be in order for the Court to take a twenty-minute recess while the clerk makes a photostat of that check. The photostat can then be received in evidence as an exemplar of the handwriting of the decedent.”

Judge Osborn retired to his chambers. The newspaper reporters, gleefully sensing a dramatic picture which would attract the interest of their readers, thronged around the embarrassed Lieutenant Tragg, snapping a series of flashlight photographs showing the police officer pulling feminine lingerie from the shopping bag and trying to assemble it on the table in the form of a rectangle.

Mason caught the eye of Paul Drake as the tall detective arose from the spectator’s seat where he had been taking in the proceedings.

Drake came forward, grinning. “You’ve sure got the boys on the run, Perry,” he said.

Mason’s features showed the extreme nervous tension under which he was laboring.

“Quick, Paul,” he said in a low voice, “I want you to pull a job for me."

“What is it?”

Mason said, “We’ve got to consider the plain simple facts in this case. Rose Keeling had packed up to go somewhere. She suddenly started to unpack for no apparent reason. She gave Ralph Endicott a check for a thousand dollars. After having written Marilyn Marlow that Marilyn’s mother was a crook and that the will was invalid, she suddenly became friendly and wanted to play tennis with Marilyn. Does that give you any ideas?”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked.

“There’s only one logical explanation. Paul, there’s no question but what Ralph Endicott has an iron-clad alibi?”

“No question. I’ve checked it and double-checked it.”

“All right,” Mason said, “then there’s only one other explanation. I want you to go and stand at the door of the courtroom and continue to stand there.”

“Why?” Drake asked.

“Just stand there,” Mason said, “that’s all. You don’t need to do it until court reconvenes, but the minute Judge Osborn gets on the bench, I want you to go and take up a position just outside the door of this courtroom, where you can hear what’s going on. And I want you to stand there.”

“That’s all?”

“No. One more thing. You’ve got some men here to help you?”

“A couple of my best boys.”

“All right. I want you to give one of them this subpoena. It calls for the attendance of the cashier of the bank where Rose Keeling had her account and on which this check is drawn. The cashier is the one who certified that check and accepted Rose Keeling’s signature on it. I want that man brought here and I want the records of Rose Keeling’s account for the last sixty days brought along with him. Get one of your men in a cab, rush him to the bank, grab the cashier and bring him up here pronto. Tell him it’s a forthwith subpoena and he has to appear at once.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“That,” Mason said, “is all. But be sure that when court reconvenes you’re standing in the door of the courtroom.”

Before the clerk returned with the photostat of the certified check, some thirty minutes had elapsed. Judge Osborn, apprised of the delay, waited in chambers, automatically extending the recess.

At the end of the thirty minutes, Judge Osborn, reconvening court, said, “The clerk was unfortunately detained. However, we now have a photostatic copy of the certified check which, I believe, you want to offer in evidence, Mr. Mason?”

“That is right, Your Honor.”

“Very well. That photostat will be received in evidence as Defendant’s Exhibit One. It will be stipulated, gentlemen, that so far as this entire case is concerned, the photostat may be considered as the original and the original check may now be returned to Mr. Ralph Endicott?”

“So stipulated,” Hanover said.

“That is my understanding, Your Honor,” Mason agreed.

“The clerk will deliver the original certified check to Mr. Ralph Endicott,” Judge Osborn said. “Come forward, Mr. Endicott, and receive the check.”

At that moment, Mason, who had been watching the door of the courtroom, saw Drake’s operative come in with the cashier of the Central Security Bank.

While the clerk was delivering the certified check to Endicott, Mason walked out through the gate of the railed-off enclosure to greet the cashier.

“Mr. Stewart Alvin?” he asked in a whisper.

“That’s right.”

Mason said, “I want to put you on the stand. You have the bank’s records with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just a moment,” Mason said. “Wait right there, please.”

He walked back to the railed-off enclosure, bent over Marilyn Marlow and said, “Marilyn, I’m going to take a gamble. I think I know what happened. I haven’t any time to try and verify it.” Then he straightened, said to Judge Osborn, “Your Honor, I have a witness whom I would like to put on out of order. I feel that the Deputy District Attorney will have no objection because I think he will also wish to use this same witness.”

“Who is it?” Hanover asked, instantly suspicious.

“Mr. Stewart Alvin, Cashier of the Central Security Bank. It is his signature which appears on that certification of the check drawn by Rose Keeling. I wish to ask him about the certification and assume that the Deputy District Attorney will welcome an opportunity to have him identify the signature of Rose Keeling.”

“Very well,” Hanover said, “go ahead and put him on.” and then added with something of a smirk, “If you don’t, I will.”

Mason said, “Take the stand, Mr. Alvin.”