Erle Gardner - The Case of the Baited Hook

Loftus half rose from his chair. His face assumed a slightly purplish tinge. “I’m going to warn you, young man,” he said, “that you’re due for the surprise of your life. Your rather spectacular courtroom victories have been made possible because you were pitted against underpaid public servants and political appointees. You’re going up against the best and highest-priced brains in the legal business now.”

“That’s nice,” Mason said. “I always like to…”

The door was pushed open. A tall, broad-shouldered man with high cheekbones came bursting into the office. He was carrying a brief case in his hand. “I told you not to see him until I got here,” he said to Loftus.

Mason smiled affably. “I wouldn’t wait,” he said. “I take it you’re the legal department.”

The man eyed him without cordiality. “I’m Ganten,” he said, “senior partner of Ganten, Kline & Shaw. You’re Mason. I’ve seen you in court. What do you want?”

“I asked Mr. Loftus over the telephone,” Mason said, “to tell me what he knew of a transaction involving the sale of fifty thousand shares of stock in the Western Prospecting Company to Albert Tidings as trustee. He refused.”

“He did quite right to refuse,” Ganten said coldly, seating himself and carefully placing his brief case on the floor by the side of his chair.

Mason smiled. “Personally, I think it was poor judgment.”

“I don’t care to have you question my judgment,” Loftus said angrily.

Mason said, “Perhaps I’d better explain my position, and call your attention to certain facts. I’m representing Byrl Gailord, the beneficiary under the trust… That is, I’ve been consulted in her behalf.”

“Go ahead and represent her,” Loftus said. “We have nothing to do with what happens between her and the trustee.”

“For your information,” Mason said, “Albert Tidings was killed.”

Loftus and Ganten exchanged glances. Ganten said, “If you don’t mind, Mr. Loftus, I’ll handle the interview.”

“I’m not going to be browbeaten,” Loftus said. “I read about Tidings’ death in the paper. It doesn’t mean a damn thing — not so far as…”

“Please, Mr. Loftus,” Ganten interrupted. “Let me do the talking. This lawyer is trying to trap you into making some admission.”

Mason laughed. “I was the one who suggested to Mr. Loftus that he have his attorney present at this interview.”

Ganten said coldly, “Well, I’m here. Go ahead with the interview.”

Mason seemed to be enjoying himself. He inhaled deeply, and then watched the cigarette smoke as he exhaled it through half-parted lips. “Unfortunately,” he said, “there seems to be some difference of opinion as to when Tidings met his death.”

“What has that to do with the stock sale?” Loftus asked. “We had no infor—”

“Please, Mr. Loftus,” Ganten interposed hastily.

Mason said, “It may have a good deal to do with that stock sale. The transaction, as I understand it, was concluded by Mr. Tidings’ secretary. Tidings had left his office before the matter was concluded. Tidings was acting in the capacity of trustee.”

“What does all that have to do with us?” Ganten asked.

Mason said, “Simply this. The medical examiner claims that Tidings couldn’t possibly have been alive after ten o’clock Tuesday morning.”

“That’s poppycock,” Loftus said. “His secretary saw him after that. His secretary talked with him over the telephone after the deal had been concluded.”

“His secretary might have been mistaken,” Mason said.

“Bosh,” Loftus remarked explosively.

Ganten said, “Apparently it hasn’t occurred to you, Mr. Mason, that the medical examiner might be mistaken.”

“It has,” Mason admitted. “I’m willing to grant you the possibility that the medical examiner was mistaken. You’re not willing to grant me the possibility that it was Tidings’ secretary who made the mistake.”

Ganten half turned in his chair so that he was facing Mason. “Is it your position,” he inquired coldly, “that if it should appear that Mr. Tidings was dead at the time the secretary concluded the transaction, there is any liability on the part of my clients?”

“Fifty thousand dollars’ worth of it,” Mason announced cheerfully.

Ganten assumed the manner of one talking to a child. “I am afraid, Mr. Mason, that your legal experience has been confined too much to courtroom technicalities, under the distorted rules of criminal procedure.”

“Suppose you leave my legal experience out of it,” Mason suggested, “and get down to brass tacks.”

“Very well,” Ganten announced, and then turned to Loftus. “There’s absolutely nothing to this, Mr. Loftus,” he said. “He hasn’t a leg to stand on. Even conceding for the sake of the argument that Tidings was dead at the time of the transaction, there can be no liability on your part. He can’t even question the authority of the trustee.

“Under the law, the death of a trustee creates a vacancy which is filled by the appointment of another trustee in a court of competent jurisdiction. Until that appointment is made, the administrator of the decedent trustee assumes charge of the property… There is no question but what Mr. Mattern was acting in accordance with specific instructions given by Mr. Tidings. There’s absolutely nothing to this claim.”

Loftus said, with a smile which was almost a sneer, “You see, Mr. Mason, Mr. Ganten is an expert in matters of this sort. He’s a specialist on contracts.”

“And contractual relationships,” Ganten supplemented.

“That’s nice,” Mason said. “How is he on the law of agency?”

“I have also specialized on that,” Ganten said.

“Then,” Mason observed, “perhaps you have given some thought to the law of agency as it applies to this case.”

“It doesn’t apply to this case at all,” Ganten observed patronizingly. “My clients are acting as brokers. That’s a definite subdivision of the agency relationship. They act as intermediaries…”

“Forget it,” Mason said. “I’m talking about Mattern.”

“About Mattern!” Ganten said in surprise. “What in the world does he have to do with it?”

Mason said with a smile, “You closed the deal with Mattern. You treated Mattern as the agent of Tidings. He was the agent of Tidings. But the very minute Tidings died, that relationship was automatically terminated by law. The authority of an agent — unless it is coupled with an interest — expires immediately upon the death of the principal.”

Loftus said, “Bosh,” again, but a quick glance at Ganten’s face caused him to show sudden signs of concern. “What is it, Ganten?” he asked.

Ganten said, “That’s not going to get you anywhere, Mr. Mason. A complete agreement had been reached between the parties. Mattern was merely the instrumentality by which that agreement was consummated, and Tidings had given Mattern specific, definite instructions prior to his appearance at our office… As you study the law of agency, Mr. Mason, you will find that there are various fine distinctions limiting the application of the general code sections on which you seem to be relying.”

“Well,” Mason said, “you might examine Restatement of the Law. Take for instance pages 309–310 of the volume on Agency and notice the illustrations therein cited as representing judicial applications of the doctrine that death of the principal terminates the authority of the agent. I call your attention particularly to the following:

“ ‘P purchases an option on Blackaire and authorizes A to sell it. Two hours before the expiration of the option and while A is in the process of executing a sale of it to T, P dies. A’s authority is terminated.