“That was unfortunate.”
“Why?” Witherspoon asked. “It would indicate insanity.”
“It antagonized the jury,” Mason said. “Lots of kids pull the wings off flies. Nearly all children go through a stage when they’re instinctively cruel. No one knows why. Psychologists give different reasons. But when a man is on trial for his life, you don’t stand much chance with a jury by dragging in a lot of early cruelties, magnifying them, distorting them, and trying to show insanity. Moreover, the fact that Adams’ lawyer relied on an insanity defense, under the circumstances of the case, indicated that he himself didn’t believe Adams’ story about what Latwell had told him.
“Circumstantial evidence can be the most vicious perjurer in the world. The circumstances don’t lie, but men’s interpretation of circumstances is frequently false. Apparently no one connected with the case had the faintest knowledge of how to go about analyzing a case which depended simply on circumstances.
“The district attorney was a shrewd, clever prosecutor who had political ambitions. Later on, he became governor of the state. The attorney for the defense was one of those bookish individuals who are steeped in the abstract lore of academic legal learning — and who knew nothing whatever about human nature. He knew his law. Every page of the record shows that. He didn’t know his jurors. Almost every page of the record indicates that. Adams was convicted of first-degree murder.
“The case was appealed. The Supreme Court decided that it was a case of circumstantial evidence, that, thanks to the care with which Adams’ lawyer had presented his points and bolstered his arguments with decisions, there were no errors of procedure. The jurors had heard the witnesses, had seen their demeanor on the stand, and, therefore, were the best judges of the facts. The conviction was affirmed. Adams was executed.”
There was a certain touch of bitterness in Witherspoon’s voice. He said, “You’re an attorney who has specialized in defending persons accused of crime. I understand you have never had a defendant found guilty in a murder case. Yet, despite your viewpoint, which is naturally biased in favor of the defendant, you aren’t able to tell me that this man was innocent. To my mind, that is conclusive of his guilt.”
“I can’t say that he was innocent,” Mason said, “and I won’t say that he was guilty. The circumstances in connection with the case have never been thoroughly investigated. I want to investigate them.”
Witherspoon said, “The mere fact that you, biased as you are, can’t find anything extenuating...”
“Now, wait a minute,” Mason interrupted. “In the first place, it wasn’t a case which would have appealed to me. It lacked all the elements of the spectacular. It was a sordid, routine, everyday sort of murder case. I probably wouldn’t have taken Adams’ case if it had been offered to me. I like something which has a element of mystery, something which has an element of the bizarre. Therefore, I’m not biased. I’m fair and impartial — and I’m not satisfied the man was guilty. The thing of which I am satisfied is that this man was convicted more because of the way his lawyer handled the case than for any other reason.”
Witherspoon said, almost as though talking to himself, “If he was guilty, it’s almost certain that the boy will have inherited that innate streak of cruelty, that desire to torture animals.”
“Lots of children have that,” Mason pointed out.
“And outgrow it,” Witherspoon commented.
Mason nodded his agreement.
“Marvin Adams is old enough to have outgrown it,” Witherspoon went on. “I think first I’ll find out something of his attitude toward animals.”
Mason said, “You’re following the same erroneous course of reasoning which the jury followed back in 1924.”
“What’s that?”
“That because a man is cruel to animals, you think he’s a potential murderer.”
Witherspoon got up from his chair, walked restlessly over to the edge of the veranda, stood looking out at the desert for a moment, then came back to face Mason. He seemed, somehow, to have aged, but there was clear-cut decision stamped on his face. “How long would it take you to investigate the circumstances of the case so that you could pass on the circumstantial evidence?” he asked Mason.
Mason said, “I don’t know. Eighteen years ago, it wouldn’t have taken very long. Today, the significant things have been obscured. Events which went unnoticed at the time, but which might have had an important bearing on the case, have been snowed under by the march of time, by the sheer weight of other events which have been piled on top of them. It would take time, and it would take money.”
Witherspoon said, “I have all the money we need. We have very little time. Will you make the investigation?”
Mason didn’t even look at him. He said, “I don’t think any power on earth could keep me from making the investigation. I can’t get this case out of my mind. You furnish the expenses, and if I can’t come to a satisfactory conclusion, I won’t charge you any fee.”
Witherspoon said, “I’d like to have you do this work where you can exclude everything else — every possible interruption. We have only a few days — and then I’m going to act...”
Mason said in a low voice, “I don’t need to tell you, Witherspoon, that that’s a dangerous way to feel.”
“Dangerous to whom?”
“To your daughter — to Marvin Adams — and to yourself.”
Witherspoon raised his voice. A flush darkened his skin. “I don’t care anything about Marvin Adams,” he said. “I care a lot about my daughter’s happiness. As far as I’m concerned, I’d be willing to sacrifice anything to keep her from being unhappy.”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” Mason asked, “that if young Adams knew exactly what you were doing and the reason back of it, he might do something desperate?”
“I don’t give a damn what he does,” Witherspoon said, emphasizing his words by gently striking the top of the table with blows of his fist at measured intervals. “I tell you, Mason, if Marvin Adams is the son of a murderer, he is never going to marry my daughter. I’d stop at nothing to prevent that marriage, absolutely nothing. Do you understand?”
“I’m not certain that I do. Just what do you mean by that?”
“I mean that where my daughter’s happiness is concerned, I’d stop at nothing, Mason. I’d see that any man who threatened her happiness ceased to be a threat to that happiness.”
Mason said in a low voice, “Don’t talk so loud. You’re making threats. Men have been hanged for but little more than that. You certainly don’t mean...”
“No, no, of course not,” Witherspoon said in a lower tone, glancing quickly over his shoulder to see if his remark had been overheard. “I didn’t mean that I would kill him, but I would have no compunctions whatever about putting him in such a position that the inherited weakness of character would become manifest... Oh, well, I’m probably working myself up needlessly. I can count on Lois to look at the situation sensibly. I’d like to have you come down to my house, Mason — you and your secretary. You could be undisturbed and...”
Mason interrupted to say, “I don’t want to be undisturbed.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you. When a person is concentrating...”
“I told you,” Mason went on, “that from the data available and evidence in the record itself, Horace Legg Adams might well have been guilty. I want to uncover evidence which wasn’t in the record. That’s going to take more than undisturbed solitude. It’s going to take action.”
“Well,” Witherspoon said, “Id like to have you near me. Couldn’t you at least come down now, and...”