“I’m going to tell them about the duck. You know what that will mean.”
“What will it mean?”
She said, “I’m sorry I did it. I’m sorry for my sake. I’m sorry for Dad’s sake. And I’m sorry for yours.”
“Why for mine?”
“They won’t let you get away with anything like that down here, Mr. Mason.”
“Why not?”
“It was planting evidence. I don’t know much law, but it certainly seems to me that it’s a violation of law. If it isn’t, it’s a violation of legal ethics — or so I should think.”
Mason lit a cigarette. “Know anything about surgery?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
Mason said, “There are times when you have to cut, and cut deep in order to save the patient’s life. This was what you might call legal surgery.”
“Isn’t it illegal?”
“Perhaps.”
“Is it going to make trouble for you if I tell?”
“Definitely.”
Her eyes softened somewhat. She said, “Mr. Mason, you’ve been very, very nice. I don’t know why you made me do that — yes, I do, too. You sympathized very much with Marvin, and I think you’re holding something back from me.”
Mason said, “That’s what I want to talk with you about. Sit down. Let’s have a cocktail and a cigarette and talk.”
“We’ll dispense with the cocktail,” she said. “Let’s make it a cigarette, and I’d like to have you hand it to me straight from the shoulder.”
” Can you take it?”
“Yes.”
Mason said, “I’ve already told you the truth about Marvin’s background and why your father employed me. And I told you that I hadn’t found anything in the record of that murder case, but that I was working on another angle. Well, I now have the proof I need. I can clear Marvin of the stigma of his father’s tragedy — but I can’t do it unless I can do it my way. Once you say anything about the duck, I’m mixed up in the case — up to my neck. Once I’m mixed in it, I can’t be free to do the things I want to clear up that old case. Once Marvin hears of that old case, he’ll run out on you. You should know that.
“The district attorney would love to get me hooked with that duck business. He also wants to put on evidence about that old murder case. You’re going to play right into his hands. If the district attorney tries to put on evidence concerning that old case as additional motivation for Burr’s murder, the witnesses will commit perjury. I want the thing handled my way.”
“How is that?” she asked, apparently hesitating about forming her decision.
“I want you to get one message to your father.”
“What?”
“Tell him to make his damn fool lawyer sit down and shut up,” Mason said, with so much feeling that his hearers were startled.
“Why? Why, what do you mean? He hasn’t said very much. He’s cross-examined the witnesses and only made one or two objections.”
“He’s objecting to that question about what the officer found when he went up to Milter’s apartment,” Mason said.
“Well, good heavens, isn’t that the whole thing? Doesn’t the whole case hinge on that? As I told you, I don’t know much law, but it seems to me that if they can drag that other murder into it, and smear Dad with a lot of suspicion in the one case and a lot of suspicion in the other, then people will think he’s guilty and...”
“Of course they will,” Mason said, “and so will the judge. But the newspapers have already commented on that stuff. Every man, woman, and child in the courtroom who’s old enough to read or think knows the evidence that the district attorney is trying to bring out. If your dad manages to suppress it by a legal technicality, it will still be lurking in the back of the judge’s mind. What does your father’s lawyer intend to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Mason said, “I heard that he thinks the case is so black that the judge won’t dismiss it, that therefore he’s not going to try to put on any evidence at this time, but let your father be bound over for trial, and put on his evidence at the time of the trial.”
“Well, isn’t that good legal policy?”
Mason looked at her and said, “No.”
“Why?”
“Because your father is a proud man. This thing is eating into his spirit. A little of it will do him good. Too much of it will ruin him. What’s more, it will ruin him in the community. This is a small place. Your father is prominent. He’s got to smash this thing right in its tracks or it will smash him. If his lawyer starts taking advantage of technicalities, and people feel that your father was acquitted on a technicality... oh, well, what’s the use?”
She said, “Do you want me to talk with Dad?”
“No,” Mason said morosely.
“Why not?”
Mason said, “Because it’s not my case. It’s even unethical for me to say a word about what the other attorney is doing.”
She said, “But what are we going to do about the duck?”
“Go tell your story if you want,” Mason said. “It won’t help your father any at this time. It’ll drag Marvin into it, bring out all of that scandal, probably cause the boy either to commit suicide, or, in any event, will send him rushing away to join the Army without finishing his education — and you know what’ll happen. He’ll try his darndest not to come back. If he does, he’ll never see you.”
She was white-faced, but steady-eyed. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked.
“Let your conscience be your guide,” Mason said.
She said, “Very well, I’m going out and announce my engagement to Marvin. I’m going to get him to go over to Yuma and we’ll be married tonight. Then I’m going in and tell the judge about the duck.”
Mason said moodily, “About what I expected you’d do.”
She looked at Della Street, saw the sympathy in Della’s eyes, and said savagely, “Don’t sympathize with me. I suppose I could go feminine with very little urging and start bawling, but this is something that takes action, not tears.”
“Suppose he won’t marry you?” Mason asked.
She said, with tight-lipped determination, “I can fix things so he will.”
“And then you’re going to tell about the duck?”
“Yes. I hope it won’t hurt you, or spoil your plans, but I’m going to tell them, anyway. I’m tired of having a lie bottled up inside me.”
“And then what?”
“Then,” she said, “if we can’t prove Marvin’s father was innocent, what’s the difference? Marvin will already be my husband. He can’t run away then.”
“There’ll be a lot of smear stuff in the newspapers,” Mason said.
“Let them smear. What bothers me most is what it’s going to do to you — but I can’t jeopardize my father’s position by keeping silent any longer.”
Mason said, “I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and tell ’em about the duck.”
She suddenly gave him her hand. The cold fingers squeezed his palm. “I guess you’ve done some wonderful things in your life, Mr. Mason, but I think this is about the most wonderful — being such a good sport — and what you did for Marvin, and being willing to have your professional career put in danger — well, thanks.”
Mason patted her on the shoulder. “Go to it,” he said. “You’re a fighter. You can get what you want out of life — if you fight hard enough for it.”
She said, “Well, don’t think I’m not going to fight hard enough,” and started for the door.
They watched in silence while she turned the knob. It was no time for conventional good-bys or the inane formulae of politeness. They simply stood, watching her.
The bell of the telephone exploded the silence. Della Street jumped as though a gun had gone off behind her. Lois Witherspoon paused, waiting.