“I do,” Mason said.
“Well, I don’t,” Hamilton Burger said. “I want to interpose an objection on that ground. It’s not proper cross-examination.”
“Overruled,” Judge Osborn said.
“You told her a falsehood?” Mason asked.
“Yes,” Barton shouted angrily.
“How long have you known Pitkin?”
“Well, I’d seen him but I didn’t know who he was. That is, I had no idea he had ever been married to Lucille. It came as a shock to me when I realized that.”
“But you had seen Pitkin?”
“I had known him as Mr. Argyle’s chauffeur. Mr. Argyle is a member of the club to which I belong. Many oil men join it.”
“And because you were interested in oil speculations, and Mr. Argyle, Mr. Ross P. Hollister, and Mr. Dudley Gates were all interested in similar transactions, and all members of the same club, you saw quite a bit of each other?”
“No, sir. Argyle, Hollister, and Gates had some sort of a partnership arrangement. They had pooled their interest in certain leases. While I was in the same general line of business, my own interests were adverse. I didn’t want them to find out what I was doing. They didn’t want me to find out what they were doing. We spoke when we met and occasionally would discuss general conditions, but we had very little in common.”
“Had you ever spoken to Pitkin?”
“I had, but it was purely a personal matter.”
“Trying to get Pitkin to tell you something about the business activities of the other three men?”
Burger shouted angrily, “Your Honor, that’s another insulting question. It’s utterly uncalled for.”
“Do you have any evidence indicating such is the case, Mr. Mason?” Judge Osborn asked.
“No, Your Honor,” Mason said, smoothly, “that question is merely part of a fishing expedition.”
“The objection is sustained,” Judge Osborn said. “You can, however, ask him what he discussed with Pitkin.”
“What did you discuss with Pitkin? What was your reason for talking to him?”
Barton, thoroughly angry, said, “I wanted to hire a chauffeur by the day. I understood there was an association, sort of an employment agency, which specialized in that sort of stuff. I asked Pitkin about it because I knew he was Argyle’s chauffeur. I happened to see him waiting out in front of the building. I asked him if he knew of such an association.”
“Did he?”
“He did. He told me where it was. It was the Chauffeurs’ Exchange. I believe it’s listed in the telephone book. It’s composed of chauffeurs who are willing to work on their days off. It’s some sort of a mutual co-operative affair. They rotate jobs, and a person can nearly always get a chauffeur by the hour, or by the day, by calling up.”
“Did Mr. Pitkin belong to that association?”
“He said he did. I don’t know. He told me Thursday was his regular day off, that he was off duty at six o’clock Wednesday evening, and didn’t have to come back until Friday morning. He said he’d be glad to take care of my needs himself on his days off, or I could get a chauffeur through the association on other days.”
Mason said, “You have no affection left for your ex-wife, the defendant in this case?”
“I am very fond of Lucille in a way.”
“And, trying to be clever, you advised her to plant a gun by the body of this man so it would look like suicide and say nothing to anyone, didn’t you?”
“I did not. You have no proof of that. The defendant might make such a claim, but it’s preposterous. Your accusation, sir, is entirely false, and is resented as such.”
“Didn’t you offer her any suggestion by which she might get out of the scrape in which she found herself?”
“Certainly not.”
“Yet you say you are fond of her?”
“Yes.”
“But you regarded that alimony settlement as a purely coldblooded business transaction?”
“No, sir. I take an interest in Lucille. I wanted to be certain that she wasn’t trying to raise money just to throw it away.”
Mason said suavely, “Yet the affection which you bore for your ex-wife, the friendship, the regard, and the desire to see that she wasn’t fleeced by some designing person, didn’t prevent you from attempting to fleece her by deceiving her so that you could get a five-thousand-dollar advantage?”
“I don’t think I had any idea of deceiving her.”
“Then why did you try to conceal your eagerness to make a cash settlement such as she proposed?”
Barton thought that over, then said, “Well, just as a matter of habit I guess. Just as a matter of business policy.”
“Come, come,” Mason said. “You knew what you were doing. You deliberately concealed your eagerness to make the settlement.”
“That’s been gone over a dozen different times,” Hamilton Burger said.
Judge Osborn said, “Well, I think counsel is entitled to make his point. It indicates the motivation of the witness and enables the Court to make an appraisal of the witness’s character.”
“All right,” Barton suddenly shouted, “I lied to her! I saw a chance to make a good business deal. I tried to put it across. Now what’s wrong with that?”
“Not a thing,” Mason said, “and thank you very much for your commendable frankness, Mr. Barton. Now there’s one other matter. As I understand your testimony, you say the defendant finally admitted the body was that of her first husband?”
“I don’t think I said that.”
Mason said, “I’ll ask the court reporter to consult his notes and see what was said.”
There followed a period of restless silence while the court reporter thumbed through the pages of his notes. Willard Barton changed his position on the witness stand.
“Here it is,” the court reporter said. “ ‘Question: Did she tell you why she wanted to leave the country? Answer: Yes, sir. Question: Why? Answer: She said a man had been found dead in her garage. She finally admitted to me the body was that of her first husband and said the exposure of that fact would ruin her.’ ”
Mason said, “Thank you, Mr. Court Reporter. I’ll now ask you, Mr. Barton, what you meant when you said she ‘finally admitted’ the body was that of her first husband?”
“Well, she finally admitted it, that’s all.”
“Not at first?”
“No.”
“After searching questions on your part?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“So you discussed the matter and you felt she was trying to hold something back and kept questioning her?”
“I presume so.”
“And in order to get her to ‘finally admit’ what she did, you had to use some pressure?”
“Well, in a way.”
“And you told her you couldn’t help her unless she told you the truth, or words to that effect?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“So she told you the truth — finally?”
“Yes.”
“So then you set about helping her?”
“I did not!”
“But you’ve already said you told her you couldn’t help her unless she told the truth, and that because of your promise she ‘finally admitted’ the truth. Now am I to understand you then failed to fulfill your part of the bargain?”
Barton hesitated, crossed his legs, glanced pleadingly at Burger.
“Well?” Mason demanded.
“I didn’t help her,” Barton blurted.
“That’s what I thought,” Mason said scornfully. “That’s all, Mr. Barton.”
Barton came down off the witness stand, swung over toward Mason’s table, caught the cold, stony glint of the lawyer’s eyes, thought better of what he had in mind, and veered away.