Erle Gardner - Case of the Silent Partner

“I do not,” Mason interrupted. “I have more important things to do right now, and I want to get you under cover.”

“I... my husband...”

“Forget him,” Mason said, “and get started for the Clearmount Hotel. You know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“Well, get going. Lieutenant Tragg isn’t a fool. He’s all excited now about finding a gun in Mildreth’s possession, but it won’t be long before he realizes that I made an awful lot of noise backing my car and turning around.”

Without another word, Carlotta Lawley slipped her car into gear and shot ahead.

Left alone with Mildreth Faulkner, Tragg waited until the sound of Mason’s car had died away in the distance, watched her eyes fight back the expression of panic and become defiant. There was nothing of the quitter about her. She stood, with her chin up, fighting for control. Excitement brought added sparkle to her eyes, color to her cheeks. She was, Tragg admitted, a beautiful woman, quite evidently accustomed to masculine deference — and she was trapped. It remained only for him to close the jaws of that trap.

Because he had her so thoroughly in his power, and because she was so naïvely unaware of the danger of dealing with an experienced police detective, he hesitated for a moment, then, putting admiration of her courage aside, he said abruptly, “Miss Faulkner, I’m going to ask you two questions. The answers to those two questions will determine our whole future relationship. If you tell me the truth, I may be able to help you.”

“What are they?” she asked, in a voice which was as harsh and strained as the crackle of static on a radio.

“First, did you send Esther Dilmeyer the poisoned candy?”

“No.”

“Second, did you kill Harvey Lynk?”

“No.”

Tragg helped himself to a chair, made himself at ease. “Very well, I’m taking you at your word. If you had killed Lynk or sent Esther Dilmeyer the poisoned candy, I would have been the first to advise you to stand on your constitutional rights and not answer my questions.”

A note of contempt crept into her voice. “In other words, if you’d asked me if I sent Esther Dilmeyer the poisoned candy, and I’d said, ‘Yes,’ you’d have been very magnanimous, and said, ‘Now, Miss Faulkner, since you’ve told me the truth, I advise you not to answer any questions because you might incriminate yourself.’ ”

He grinned. “Hardly. I didn’t expect you would admit it if you had been guilty. Not in so many words. But I could have told from your manner.”

“Do you mean to say that you can ask a person a question like that, and tell from the manner in which the reply is given whether the answer is true?”

“Not all the time, but I can get a pretty good idea.”

“Then,” she said, still with that note of contempt in her voice, “having ascertained that I didn’t commit either crime, you have done your duty, and there’s no need to waste any more of your valuable time here.”

“Not so fast. In the first place, I didn’t say that I had decided you weren’t guilty. In the second place, if you aren’t guilty, you may have some information which will be of value.”

“Oh, so you haven’t cleared me yet?”

“No.”

“I thought you said you had.”

“No. I said that if you had been guilty, I would have been the first to advise you not to answer questions. Now I’m going to explain that a little, Miss Faulkner. If you are guilty, don’t answer my questions because, if you are guilty, I’m going to trap you! ”

“Well, I’m not guilty. And even if I were, I don’t think you could trap me into admitting it.”

“I think I could,” he said. “Say, nine times out of ten.”

Her silence was significant.

“Now remember, Miss Faulkner, if you are guilty, please don’t answer these questions. Simply say that you won’t answer them.”

“I’m not guilty.”

“All right, with that understanding, you can answer questions, but remember, I’ve warned you.”

She said hotly, “Since seven o’clock tonight I’ve been faced with a very difficult and trying business situation. I’m endeavoring to extricate myself from a difficulty — and I’m not going to tell you what that difficulty is or what I did with my time. I don’t have to. I don’t...”

“All right, all right,” he interrupted. “Let it go at that. Can you tell me anything at all of the nature of your business difficulty?”

“No.”

“Was it perhaps because your brother-in-law had turned over stock in your company to Coll as security for a gambling debt, and Coll, in turn, had turned it over to Lynk, and Harry Peavis, your competitor...”

He stopped at the expression on her face.

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“As it happens, I learned it from Mr. Magard, Mr. Lynk’s partner.”

“Then he was in on it?”

“No. He told me that he learned of it only this afternoon. He and Lynk had words about it. Magard told Lynk he’d buy him out, or Lynk could be the one to do the buying, but the partnership was finished.”

“How did Magard find out about it?”

“He began putting two and two together, and finally called for a showdown with Lynk and forced Lynk to tell him.”

“I see no reason for me to say anything.”

“Why?”

“How do I know you aren’t trying to trap me? You’ve been good enough to warn me that you intended to.”

“The point is well taken,” he said. “Now, I’m going to ask you to help me uncover some of the facts.”

“What?”

“Did you know Sindler Coll?”

“No.”

“You’ve heard your brother-in-law speak of him?”

“Yes.”

“What did Lawley say about him?”

“He said that he wanted to bring Coll up to the house some night when my sister got better.”

“Your sister is an invalid?”

“That’s right — temporarily.”

“Did Mr. Lawley mention anything about betting or horse racing in connection with Mr. Coll?”

“No. He just said that he thought we’d like Coll.”

“What did you say?”

“I said nothing.”

“Do I understand that you and your brother-in-law don’t get along very well?”

“Oh, he’s all right, but — well, you’re asking me what I said, and that’s what I said — nothing.”

“And your sister?”

“I’ve forgotten. I think Carla said it would be very nice.”

“Now,” Tragg said, “I’m going to give you a few words, Miss Faulkner, and I want you to be thoroughly relaxed and at ease and tell me what each word calls to your mind.”

“Another trap?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “My dear young woman, I told you that if you were guilty, I was going to trap you. The way you keep harping on the subject leads me to believe that you are — oh, well, skip it.”

She said, “Just because you’re a police officer who comes barging in here at two-thirty in the morning, I suppose that if I’m not guilty, I’m to sit up all night and play charades with you.”

“Hardly that. I’ll take only a few minutes more of your time. Please remember, Miss Faulkner, that what I’m trying to do is to uncover the facts. If you’re afraid to have me learn the truth, don’t co-operate. If there’s no reason why you wish to keep me from learning the truth, your co-operation will be appreciated.”

“You’ve said all that before.”

“So I have.”

“Go ahead. What are the words? I suppose this is one of those association tests.”

“Not exactly,” Tragg said. “The association test calls for a lot of psychological stuff, holding a stop watch on a person to see how long it takes to answer. I’ll be frank with you, Miss Faulkner. It’s a trick which is sometimes used by psychologists. A lot of innocent words are given until the average reaction time of the witness is noted. Then words are given which might bring up a guilty train of thought. The person naturally wants to guard against betraying himself, and therefore his reaction time is a little longer on all of these words.”