Erle Gardner - The Case of the Half-Wakened Wife

“And just to make a good job of it,” Mason went on, smiling at the embarrassed attorney, “you’ll find that in the very recent book entitled Homicide Investigation by LeMoine Snyder, the statement is made that anyone considering the examination of bullets must take into consideration the fact that there are adapters used for firing rifle bullets from a shotgun. And I think that will conclude my deposition, unless the witness cares to make some statement.”

Attica said to his client, “This has been a great strain, my dear. Mr. Mason’s examination has been most ruthless. But, if you have any explanation, you had better make it now.”

She shook her head.

“It’s quite apparent,” Attica said, “that this witness is a sick woman.”

“It’s equally apparent,” Mason snapped, “what made her sick.”

“I am not going to let her continue with this deposition,” Attica said. “That’s all, my dear.”

One of the newspaper reporters tipped over a chair as he jumped to his feet. Both of them made for the door in a run.

“Who are those people?” Attica asked, frowning at the two men.

“A couple of newspaper reporters I invited to be present,” Mason said.

“Oh my God!” Attica exclaimed and slumped back into his chair.

The sun on the river was warm and balmy. Deck awnings were spread out over the reclining chairs on Benton’s yacht, but Della Street would have none of the shade. Attired in a playsuit, she had moved her chair out to the sunlight and was leaning back with her ankles crossed on the teakwood rail, soaking up the sunlight.

Mason, more comfortably settled in the shade was at ease in one of those reclining deck chairs which furnish support for the legs and are conducive to long hours of lazy tranquillity in the open air.

So completely relaxed was he that he didn’t even bother to go to the rail when he heard the sound of a launch approaching the yacht. Not until Parker Benton came strolling along the deck with the Sunday newspapers under his arm, did Mason show any interest.

Benton said, “I had the launch go over to that little town for the newspapers, Mason. Thought you’d like to see them.”

“Go ahead,” Mason said. “I’ll wait until you’ve finished with them. I don’t want to deprive you of...”

“It’s all right,” Benton interrupted, “I bought half a dozen copies of each of the papers. You see, I’m going to keep a scrap-book.”

Mason smiled, reached for the newspapers, said, “What have you found out about Shelby? He must have been aboard the yacht before.”

Benton shook his head, said, “I’d been intending to tell you about that. But, you looked so comfortable that I thought I’d wait until I brought you the papers. When you told me last night that Shelby must have been aboard the yacht before, I felt absolutely confident you were mistaken; that the night of the twelfth was the first time he’d ever been aboard.”

“The plans Shelby made showed more than a superficial familiarity with the yacht,” Mason said positively. “Somewhere, somehow, he must have been aboard. The knowledge that there were two telephone systems and that he could trap his wife by telephoning from a cabin, the...”

Benton smilingly interrupted. “I’m afraid, for once, Mr. Mason, you overlooked something.”

“What?”

“I don’t think Shelby had ever been aboard the yacht but Lacey had. Remember that Lacey was working hand in glove with Shelby. Remember also, that Lacey was a professional cook. I find, on looking back over my records, that Arthur Lacey worked aboard as cook for a period of two weeks a year ago, filling in when my regular cook took his two weeks’ vacation. Hang it, when I saw the pictures in the paper last night, I thought the man’s face was familiar and yet I couldn’t place it.”

“Oh, oh,” Mason said, “that accounts for it.”

Benton went on, “One of the crew recognized him from his pictures and told me about it just a few minutes ago. Well, here are the papers. Are you comfortable? Like to have something to drink?”

Mason shook his head, said, “Thanks, Benton. All I need is a chance to soak up some of this fresh air and sunshine. The knowledge that there isn’t any telephone within four miles and that I won’t be interrupted by someone ringing me up to get me involved in another murder case makes for perfect repose.”

Benton said, “To my mind, Mason, that’s the charm of yachting — and the real lure of this island. Once I get aboard my yacht, I can completely isolate the outside world. Well, go ahead and relax. You certainly have earned it. If there’s anything you want, just press the button for the steward.”

Parker Benton, showing an understanding for the lawyer’s mood, moved away.

“Want to look at the paper?” Mason asked Della Street.

She smiled languidly, shook her head.

Mason bestirred himself, stretched, yawned, unrolled the Sunday newspapers, said, “I always like to see what they say about a case.”

“Anything interesting?” Della Street asked after a few moments.

“I’m just starting in on this story by Drake’s friend.”

Della Street straightened, “I’d forgotten about that angle. Drake’s friend being present at the deposition. What does he say, Chief? Want me to read it out loud?”

“You’ll ruin your eyes,” Mason told her. “You can’t read in the bright sunlight. Stay where you are, Della. I’ll read it to you.”

Mason straightened out the paper, said, “There are a couple of preliminary paragraphs and then this:

“ ‘Never has Perry Mason, the master cross-examiner, put on a better exhibition of his skill than at the deposition of Ellen Cushing Lacey. Never has a witness been more confounded, nor her attorney more nonplused.

“ ‘There was every element of exciting drama in what had happened before, but what happened at that deposition made everything else seem dry as dust. And while one is handing out kudos, one must not overlook Ellen Lacey. Caught finally in a trap which had been set for her by a past master of courtroom strategy, she seemed very bewildered and helpless. But one must not forget that it was this same Ellen Lacey who whisked a murderer right out from under the veteran nose of Lieutenant Tragg with all the deft skill of a conjurer making a rabbit disappear.

“ ‘Realizing that the man whom she loved had quite apparently made an arrangement with Scott Shelby to aid in his disappearance, she invented a story out of whole cloth which completely fooled the officers. And she pulled this story right out of the thin air. Arthur Lacey, in place of being a jealous suitor, was in fact, a casual trifler with her affections. In place of being almost a stranger to Scott Shelby, he had actually been acquainted with the murdered man for months. It was to Arthur Lacey that Shelby turned when he wished to engineer a scheme by which he would “disappear” leaving his wife faced with a murder charge. It was Arthur Lacey whom Shelby hired to meet him on the river and row him ashore. It was Arthur Lacey who had wrapped Shelby in a blanket. Arthur Lacey whom Shelby used as a dummy in liquidating his business affairs.

“ ‘The conspirators almost had their plans upset by the fog which had settled so thickly that Benton had not taken his yacht all the way to the island anchorage as had been intended, but had anchored a few hundred yards downstream. However, Lacey, an expert oarsman had located the yacht and signaled Shelby that all was ready.

“ ‘Shelby had already arranged to frame his wife by leaving her with a story to tell which would sound utterly impossible. He had already trapped her into such a position she was about to be accused of having tried to poison him. He had placed arsenic in his own food, even putting a small amount in her food, and then had called a doctor, taking great care to detail such typical symptoms that the doctor would not only give proper treatment, but would strongly urge a report to the police.