Erle Gardner: Case of the Beautiful Beggar

“That’s the spirit,” Mason said.

She smiled at him and said, “And I’m not going to be a beggar.”

Mason said, “You endorsed that check for a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars when you tried to cash it at the bank?”

She nodded.

“That,” Mason said, “leaves you with a hundred and twenty five thousand dollar check, endorsed in blank, which may not be too good and that letter which your uncle sent is evidence that—”

“Mr. Mason,” she interrupted, “I just can’t believe that he isn’t my uncle. Oh, this is terrible, some sort of a nightmare that I’ll awaken from.”

“It may be at that,” Mason said, smiling reassuringly. “My experience has always been that these things look much worse than they actually are. In fact, I tell my clients that nine times out of ten they can say to themselves, ‘Things are never as bad as they seem.’ ”

“Thank you for trying to reassure me but I just don’t know what to do next. How am I going to live until I can get a job? How can I go and get a room and —

“No, no,” she interposed hastily, as Mason started to speak, “don’t tell me that you’ll finance me. I can’t just live on your charity.”

“It isn’t charity,” Mason said. “It’s a business investment. Give me that check and the letter. I’m going to keep them in my office safe.”

She said, “That letter, I’m afraid, shows that Uncle Horace — or should I say Mr. Shelby — never made a will in my favor and suddenly realized that he hadn’t made a will.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Mason said. “Many times a person makes a will entirely in his own handwriting — which is perfectly legal and valid — but then wants to have it supplemented by another will executed in the presence of witnesses.”

“A will in handwriting is good without witnesses?” she asked.

“In this state, yes,” Mason said. “The holographic will, entirely written, dated and signed by the testator, is valid.

“There are, of course, several catches or legal pitfalls. There can’t be anything on the sheet of paper except the handwriting of the testator. In other words, if part of the date is printed and the testator only has to fill in the day and month, then the will is considered as not being entirely of the handwriting of the testator. The testator should start with an absolutely blank piece of paper on which there is no writing or printing of any sort. He should set forth that he is making a will. He should be sure to state the date. He should make a clear disposition of his property and sign it. Now, I have a feeling that your Uncle Horace, being a pretty shrewd businessman, did make such a will.”

“But if they are in charge of his papers, they can find it and destroy it,” she said. “Probably they have already done that.”

Mason shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t answer that as yet. It is always a possibility. However, remember that we have seriously impeached Borden Finchley by this letter having sworn that he had no thought about the possibility of his half brother executing a will which would disinherit him and then having admitted he had seen this letter, he put himself in a very questionable position.

“You could see Judge Ballinger turn against him the minute he made that statement.

“Well, Daphne, I admit things look black, but we’re going to keep fighting and don’t you get discouraged.... You have enough money for your present needs?”

She nodded. “Thanks to your generosity,” she said.

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I repeat, I’m just putting up a little money as an investment. After I collect some money for you, you can repay me and pay me a fee as well.”

Her smile was wan. “I am afraid that your chances of getting a good fee are just about as slim as your chances of ever getting repaid. I suppose after I get a job I can pay you ten or fifteen dollars a month — something like that.”

Mason patted her shoulder. “Let me give you some good advice, Daphne. Quit worrying about the future.”

Mason left her and went to his office, fitted his latchkey to the door of his private office, and shook his head at Della Street.

“The poor kid,” he said. “I felt so sorry for her — her whole world crashing about her ears.”

“What chances does she have?” Della Street asked.

“I don’t know,” Mason said. “If we can get the order appointing a conservator set aside and if Horace Shelby is the type of man I think he is, we can do some good. But remember that Horace Shelby has been through a whole series of devastating experiences and these have probably been complicated by some medication which is contra-indicated in his condition. There may be some permanent damage there.

“You can see their strategy,” Mason went on. “They got rid of Daphne for the longest possible period of time. While she was gone, they did everything they could to undermine the mental health of Horace Shelby. Then when they didn’t dare to wait any longer, they went to court. Of course, the fact that he was trying to give his niece — who it now seems is actually a stranger to the blood — one hundred and twenty five thousand dollars, which virtually wiped out his checking account, was a big factor in the mind of the Court.

“You put yourself in the position of a judge and find a set of circumstances like that and you’re pretty certain to feel that the man needs protection.”

Della Street nodded, said, “Mr. Stanley Paxton is waiting in the office for you.”

Mason nodded. “Let’s have him in,” he said. “In the meantime, Della, remember that I have this check for one hundred and twenty five thousand dollars made to Daphne Shelby and endorsed by her, and also the letter that Horace Shelby sent her. I want to put them in our safe and I’d like to have a photographer make photographic copies of them.”

Della Street reached out her hand.

“I’ll keep them for the moment,” Mason said. “Let’s not delay seeing Mr. Paxton. His time is valuable.”

Della Street went to the outer office, returned with Stanley Paxton.

“Mr. Mason,” the banker said, “I find myself in a peculiar situation.”

Mason raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry as he gestured to a chair.

Paxton seated himself, ran his hand over his high forehead, looked shrewdly at Mason and said, “We have had a little experience in these matters from time to time and we can size people up. Our primary interest as a bank is in protecting our clients.”

Mason nodded.

“Horace Shelby is our client,” Paxton went on. “As far as we are concerned, the conservator is a stranger — an intruder, an interloper.”

“Under an order of Court,” Mason pointed out.

“Under an order of Court, to be sure,” Paxton conceded. “That’s what I want to talk with you about.”

Mason nodded. “Go right ahead.”

“Of course, it’s unusual because you are attorney — not for Horace Shelby but for his niece.”

Mason was silent, waiting for the other to continue.

Paxton put the tips of his fingers together, looked steadily at a spot on the floor about five feet in front of him. He spoke in the tone of voice used by a man who is accustomed to dealing in precise figures and wants to express himself in such a way that he conveys exactly the thought he wants to convey.

“In dealing with the conservator,” Paxton said, “the general custom is for the conservator to file with us a certified copy of the order of Court and have us transfer the account to the conservator.”

“That custom wasn’t followed in the present case?” Mason asked.

“In the present case,” Paxton said, “I remember the wording of the Court order very clearly because I have had occasion to look it up. It said that Borden Finchley, as conservator, was to take possession of all funds on deposit in the Investors National Bank in the name of Horace Shelby, and safeguard those funds as conservator. An order was made to the bank ordering the bank to turn over every credit existing in the bank as of the date of that order to the conservator.