The district attorney said, “You can’t make anything like that stick, Mason. I’ve talked with Emery Bolus, the president of the Western Prospecting Company. It’s true that the sale was of private stock. I believe it was the stock held by Bolus, who wished to unload, but Bolus knows nothing whatever of any ten-thousand-dollar payment and had no inkling that Tidings was dead at the time the transaction was completed. You can’t escape the consequences of your act by trying to drag others into it.”
“And,” Mason went on calmly, “Bolus has consulted an attorney. Bolus learned that under the law of agency the sale would have been invalid in the event it appeared Tidings had died — unless it should appear that I had consented to the sale as attorney for Byrl Gailord, which would have made Mattern an agent for the beneficiary instead of the trustee. Under those circumstances, Bolus could insist that the sale was valid. This story has been concocted in order to bolster up that sale. The stock is probably valueless. Bolus has agreed to give Mattern another five or ten thousand to tell this story. It gives Mattern an out, accounts for his actions, and will leave Bolus still holding the money.”
“That,” Berger said coldly, “is an ingenious attempt to distort the facts, but unfortunately for you, the evidence doesn’t corroborate it.”
Mason said, “All right. I’ll go at it from another angle. How about you, Mrs. Tump? You are the one who employed me to represent the interests of Byrl Gailord. You know when you came to me. When was it?”
“I called on you,” she said, “on Tuesday morning. I guess it was around ten o’clock. But you knew that I was going to call on you and that you were going to represent Byrl.”
“How in Heaven’s name did I know that?” Mason asked. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“You knew it through Robert Peltham,” she said. “You’ve been in touch with Robert Peltham ever since this case started. Do you deny that Robert Peltham called on you and employed you to represent his interests Monday night?”
“What makes you think that happened?” Mason asked.
“He told me…”
“Don’t answer that question,” Berger interrupted. “We’re not here to give Mr. Mason an unlimited opportunity to fish for information and then work out a story which will hold water.”
“What is the purpose of this interview?” Mason asked.
“Simply to give you an outline of the circumstances which make me feel that it’s my duty to have a warrant issued for your arrest on a charge of criminal conspiracy and on a charge of being an accessory after the fact.”
“Accessory to what?” Mason asked.
“To the murder of Albert Tidings.”
“I see,” Mason commented calmly, “and whom am I supposed to be aiding and abetting?”
“Robert Peltham.”
“Oh,” Mason said, “so he’s the murderer now, is he?”
“You know he is.”
“And how do I know it?”
“He told you so shortly after midnight on Monday night — or to be exact, the time was Tuesday morning. You met him at your office, and he retained you. You arranged for an alibi for Peltham and his mistress. In order to make that alibi good, you wanted it to appear that Tidings was still alive on Tuesday morning, that he met his death sometime after noon on Tuesday. Everything that you have done, Mason, supports that conclusion. The circumstantial evidence is strongly against you, and in view of the statement of Mattern, who is a direct witness, I feel it my duty to institute criminal proceedings against you unless you can convince me that you are innocent.”
“And how can I convince you?” Mason asked. “I can’t ask questions of the witnesses. I can’t even find out what evidence you hold. My hands are tied.”
“Not if you’re innocent,” Berger said. “You don’t need to cross-examine witnesses in order to find out what cards I hold in my hand. You can make a simple, direct statement of your connection with the case.”
“I can’t do that,” Mason said.
“Why not?”
“Because it would betray the confidences of a client.”
“Do you deny that Robert Peltham called on you sometime between midnight and one o’clock on Tuesday morning?”
Mason said, “I’m not going to give you any information whatever concerning the activities of any client.”
“Under the circumstances,” Berger said, “I consider the interview closed. I have evidence which proves conclusively that Peltham was in love with Tidings’ wife, that Tidings refused to grant a divorce, and that while the affair had been kept successfully from his knowledge for some little time, he had finally learned about it and sought to trap the participants. It was while he was so engaged that he met his death.”
“When?”
“At eleven-fifteen Monday night.”
Mason spent several seconds staring at the smoke which eddied upward from the tip of his half-smoked cigarette. “At eleven-fifteen,” he said musingly.
“That’s right.”
“Someone hear the shot?” Mason asked.
For a moment it seemed as though Berger was about to reply to the question, then he picked up the telephone on his desk and inquired, “Is Miss Adelle Hastings in the office?… Very well. I want to see her next… And Paul Drake… Very well, have him wait. I’ll see Miss Hastings next.”
Mason said musingly, “Eleven-fifteen… That isn’t the way I understand it. That time of death doesn’t coincide with the facts as I’ve worked them out.”
“What time,” Berger asked, “do you consider that death took place?”
“About nine-thirty,” Mason said without hesitation.
“On Monday night?”
“That’s right.”
Berger said, “I am not committing myself finally on that point as yet, Mr. Mason. There’s one more witness whom I must interview personally before I make a definite commitment.”
“That witness heard the shot?” Mason asked.
“That witness,” Berger said with cold finality, “saw the deed committed. He recognized Robert Peltham as the murderer. He actually saw the murder. I’ve talked with him over the telephone. I haven’t his signed statement as yet.”
Mason stretched forth his long legs, crossed the ankles, and stared down at the toes of his shoes. “Well,” he said, “there’s nothing I can add.”
“You might tell me how you fix the time of death as being around nine-thirty.”
Mason shook his head.
“Very well,” Berger announced in the voice of one terminating an interview, “I shall instruct my men to issue a complaint on which a warrant for arrest will be issued, Mason. I’m sorry, but I’ve repeatedly warned you that your methods were going to get you into trouble.”
“I’ll be eligible for bail?” Mason asked.
“I shall charge you with being an accessory after the fact on first-degree murder.”
Mason said, “You haven’t that complaint ready now?”
“It will be ready within the next hour.”
“Until that time I’m not under arrest?”
Berger said, “I don’t intend to arrest you without a warrant.”
Mason arose from the chair, tossed his cigarette into the ash tray, and said, “Thank you very much for your consideration in giving me an opportunity to present my side of the case.”
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t make a more satisfactory explanation.”
“So am I,” Mason said.
Mrs. Tump said bitterly, “Well, I don’t know where that leaves us. You certainly can’t hold Byrl to any such bargain as that. She doesn’t want that stock.”
“I’m afraid that will have to be thrashed out in a civil court, Mrs. Tump,” Berger said.
Mrs. Tump glared at Mason. “To think that I accepted you as an honest lawyer,” she said scornfully.