“You put it back in the envelope. Did you mail it?”
“No. We put the envelope back on Horace’s desk after he asked what had happened to it. He mailed it himself.”
“I haven’t time to go into this matter at this present hearing,” Judge Ballinger said, “because there is another matter heretofore set which comes on the calendar, but I am going to look into this with great care. This matter is continued until—” He turned to the clerk. “When is the first day that we have— Wait a minute. I understand this case of Johnson versus Peabody is going off calendar. That will give us a half a day tomorrow?”
The clerk nodded.
“I’m continuing this matter until tomorrow, at two o’clock,” Judge Ballinger said. “At that time I want to have Horace Shelby in court and, in the meantime, I am going to have him examined by a doctor of my own choosing. What is the private sanitarium where he is now located?”
Finchley hesitated.
“The Goodwill Sanitarium at El Mirar,” Darwin Melrose said.
“Very well,” Judge Ballinger said. “I’m going to continue the matter until tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock. I want it understood that a physician appointed by the Court will examine Mr. Shelby at the sanitarium. I want Mr. Shelby in court and I want it understood that the Court is not going to rule upon the objection disqualifying Perry Mason from appearing in the matter as attorney for Daphne Shelby — or Daphne Raymond, whatever her name may be — from appearing as an interested party until after I have given the matter further consideration.
“I may state that I will probably rule upon the objection at the conclusion of the hearing tomorrow afternoon, and that I will permit the examination of witnesses by Mr. Perry Mason until the Court has made its ruling.
“It is the offhand impression of the Court that the public is sufficiently a party to inquiries of this sort so that the Court can have the assistance of any interested party or any interested counsel, and in the event the Court decides that Mr. Mason is not entitled to appear and interrogate witnesses on behalf of his client, the Court will probably welcome the services of Mr. Perry Mason as amicus curiae.
“The matter is continued until tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”
Chapter 5
Daphne clung to Mason’s arm as a drowning person clutches a bit of floating wood.
Borden Finchley gave her a vague smile and stalked out of the courtroom.
Darwin Melrose, walking up to Mason, said, “I didn’t like to jerk the rug out from under you, Mason, but it was the only way I could play it.”
“You haven’t jerked any rug out from under anyone as yet,” Mason replied, smiling affably.
He put an arm around Daphne’s shoulders. “Come on, Daphne,” he said, and led the way into an adjoining witness room.
“You sit down here,” he said, “until the others have got out of the courtroom. And after that, you’re going to find reporters will be hunting you up — probably the sob-sister type of columnists who like to do the Poor-Little-Rich-Girl articles.”
“Mr. Mason, this is absolutely incredible,” she said. “My whole world has come crashing down around my ears. Good heavens, do you realize what I’ve been through the last—”
“I know,” Mason said. “I understand, but you’re a big girl now you’re out in the world. You’ll have to learn to take wallops and to come back fighting. Now, lets take stock of the situation and see where we can start fighting.”
“What can we do?” she asked.
“Well,” Mason said, “we can check for one thing. Although I feel pretty certain they’re sure of their facts or they wouldn’t have brought them out in this way. Otherwise, it would have been suicidal.”
“I still don’t understand it,” she said.
“The relatives thought they were going to be disinherited but felt that, if there was no wills they could control the estate.
“So they arranged for a visit, contrived in some way to get left alone with the aged testator, then manipulated things so they could claim his mind was failing, that he needed someone to protect him from shrewd and designing persons... And, of course, the shrewd and designing person they always pick is the person they think is going to be the beneficiary under the will.
“If they can get the Court to appoint a guardian or a conservator, they’re that much ahead. If they can’t, they have at least established a record so that they can claim undue influence and a lack of testamentary capacity when the will is finally brought up for probate.”
“I can’t imagine people being like that,” Daphne said.
Mason looked at her sharply. “Do you mean you’re as innocent as all that?”
“No,” she said, “I just can’t imagine people being that low — particularly where Uncle Horace was concerned. Uncle Horace is the best, the most big-hearted man in the world.”
“How did he feel toward Borden Finchley?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Mason. I do know that he thought they were staying in the house altogether too long but then when Uncle Borden suggested that I needed a good rest and a trip somewhere on an ocean steamer, Uncle Horace chimed right in with the idea.
“I know that it meant a lot to him. I know that he knew he would have to put up with a lot of inconveniences, but he wanted me to have the rest and relaxation and have a good time.
“I told you Aunt Elinor had been a nurse, and she told Uncle Horace that I was simply working myself to death and taking altogether too many responsibilities for a young girl — that I should be out having a good time.”
“All right,” Mason said, “I’m going to scout around and see that the coast is clear of reporters and get you out of here. Don’t tell anyone where you are staying and try not to talk with reporters. If you do, tell them that you have no comment to make unless I am present at the time of the interview that, under instructions from your attorney, you are making no statement.
“Can you do that?”
“Of course I can do that,” she said. “It will be easy for me. I just don’t want to talk about things, but — I just can’t understand how anything like this can take place.”
“Our system of justice isn’t absolutely perfect,” Mason said. “But the case isn’t finished yet. They may have letters from your Uncle Horace telling them about your parentage, but those letters are hearsay except for the purpose of impeachment. You just sit tight and keep a good grip on yourself.”
She shook her head. “I’m finished,” she said, the corners of her mouth drooping. “I’m illegitimate, I’m nobody. I’m going to be forced to go out in the world and try and make a living and I haven’t anything to offer. I have no skills. I’ve been too busy taking care of Uncle Horace to ever learn anything that will help me make a living.”
“You type, don’t you?” Mason asked.
“Sure,” she said, bitterly, “I type, but I don’t have any shorthand and I haven’t had any experience with taking dictation on any kind of a machine. I just compose the letters and bring them to Uncle Horace to sign. That is, I did compose. I guess those days are all over now.”
“You use the touch system?” Mason asked.
“Yes, thank heavens, I taught myself that. I was just using a hunt-and-peck system with two fingers on each hand, and I realized that if I didn’t break myself of that habit, I’d never be a really finished typist so I started practicing on the touch system and finally mastered it.”
“Well,” Mason said, “you’re doing all right. You can get a job that will keep you going if you have to and if worse comes to worst.”
She said, “The worst has already come. I’ve been batted around...” She suddenly squared her shoulders. “No, I haven’t either,” she said. “And I’m not going to be a beggar. I’m going to make my own way in the world — but I’m going to see what I can do for Uncle Horace. I’m not going to let those horrid people manipulate him just any old way they want to.”