“What name did you give?”
“The name of William Camas.”
“And you were given a key to the apartment on that basis?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then what did you do?”
“Well, it was all fixed up with the defendant that right after the court hearing on her case, which was coming up the next day, she’d rush out to the apartment house and we’d put our plan in operation and get rid of Dorrie Ambler.”
“Now you say, ‘get rid of her.’ Do you mean— Well, what do you mean?”
“Well, it eventually turned out we were supposed to get rid of her, but at first the talk was only about kidnapping.”
“All right, what happened?”
“Well, you see the defendant was going to come down to join us immediately after her court hearing was finished.”
“Did she say why she’d picked that particular time?”
“Yes, she said that would be the time when she would be free of shadows and reporters and all that stuff. She said that her attorney would get her out of the court and down in his car and drive her for half a dozen blocks to a place where she had her car parked, that the attorney would give instructions to her to go into hiding and stay in hiding, probably to go home; that she’d come and join us. She said that in case anything should go wrong with our scheme that she could go to the door and impersonate Dorrie Ambler and explain any noise or commotion or anything of that sort. In that way we wouldn’t stand any risk.”
“All right, what happened?”
“Well, we had a chance to nab Dorrie Ambler while she was in the kitchen. We knocked on the back door and said we had a delivery, and she opened the door and we grabbed her right then.”
“What did you do?”
“We put a gag in her mouth, put a gun in her back and hustled her down the back stairs and into Apartment 805. Then we doped her with a shot of morphine and put her out.”
“Then what?”
“Shortly after that the defendant showed up. She wanted us to get out fast. She said Dorrie Ambler had been consulting Perry Mason and we didn’t have much time, that Mason wasn’t the sort to let grass grow under his feet. But we reminded her about the ten grand. We really took that apartment to pieces, looking for it.”
“Did you find it?”
“No... That is, I don’t think we did.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, my partner, Barlowe Dalton, acted just a little bit strange. I got to thinking afterwards perhaps he might have found it and just stuck it in his pocket and pretended that he hadn’t found it. In that way he’d have had the whole thing for himself instead of making a split.”
“You don’t know that he found it?”
“No, sir. All I know is that I didn’t find it.’
“Very well. Then what happened?”
“Then I told the defendant we’d better arrange for a getaway in case something went wrong.”
“What did you do?”
“I started barricading the kitchen door; that is, the door between the kitchen and the living-room so we could open it ourselves but hold off anyone that came in the front door — and that was when the doorbell rang and this man was there.”
“What man?”
“This detective, this man that was killed, Marvin Billings.”
“All right, go on. Tell us what happened.”
“Well, I’m getting just a little ahead of my story. The defendant also frisked the apartment looking for something. She didn’t tell me what, but she had found a twenty-two-calibre revolver.”
“The defendant had this?”
“That’s right. She said she was going to show Dorrie Ambler a thing or two about the difference between lead bullets and blank cartridges.”
“And then?”
“Well, then is when we come to this thing that I was telling you about. The doorbell rang, and this Marvin Billings was there, and the defendant went to the door and tried to shoo him away.”
“What happened?”
“He just pushed his way right into the place and of course right away he saw that it was a wreck, that we’d been searching it, and he wanted to know what was going on. And the defendant, pretending to be Dorrie Ambler, said that somebody had evidently been in looking for something and that was when Billings tried to put the bite on her.”
“Now, what do you mean by that?”
“Well, he wanted to shake her down.”
“Where were you?”
“I was in the bedroom.”
“Did he see you?”
“No, he couldn’t see me. I was behind the door.”
“What happened?”
“He told the defendant that he knew what she’d been up to. He thought he was talking to Dorrie—”
“Never mind telling us what you think he thought,” Hamilton Burger interrupted with ponderous dignity, creating the impression that he wanted to be thoroughly fair and impartial. “All you can testify is what you saw and heard in the presence of the defendant.”
“Well, he told her he knew what she’d been up to, that she was an impostor and that she needed a better manager than she had; that he was declaring himself in and that he wanted part of the gravy, and he said something about not being born yesterday, and— Well, that’s when she said—”
“Now, when you say ‘she,’ to whom do you refer?”
“Minerva Minden, the defendant.”
“All right, what did she say?”
“She said, ‘You may not have been born yesterday but you’re not going to live until tomorrow,’ and I heard the sound of a shot and then the sound of a body crashing to the floor.”
“What did you do?”
“I ran out and said, ‘You’ve shot him!’ And she said, ‘Of course I’ve shot him. The blackmailing bastard would have had us all tied up in knots if I hadn’t shot him. But they’ll never pin it on me. It’s in Dorrie Ambler’s apartment and she’ll get the blame for it.’ ”
“And then what?”
“Well, then I bent over him and said the guy wasn’t even dead, and she said, ‘Well, we’ll soon fix that,’ and raised the gun and then lowered it and a smile came over her face. She said, ‘No, better yet, let him recover consciousness long enough to tell his story. He thinks Dorrie Ambler shot him. That will account for Dorrie’s disappearance. Everyone will think she shot this guy and then took it on the lam.’ ”
“The defendant said that?”
“That’s right. And from that time on she was just tickled to death with herself. She was feeling as though she’d really done a job.”
“And what happened?”
“Well, almost immediately after that the chimes rang, and I grabbed the other mattress and rushed it into the kitchen and we arranged a table against the door and the mattresses so that it barricaded the kitchen door. Then we waited a minute to see what would happen. That’s when the defendant got in a panic and wanted to run down the stairs. I slapped her and she started to scream. I had to grab her and put a hand over her mouth.”
“Why?” Hamilton Burger asked.
“Because with someone at the door we couldn’t get to the elevator. Our escape was cut off that way. We’d have to go down the stairs. I didn’t want them to come around to the back door and catch us there, so I wanted to be sure they were all the way in the apartment before we sneaked out the back door. That tension of waiting was too much for the defendant’s nerves.”
“What did you do?”
“I left the back door open.”
“Where was your partner, Barlowe Dalton, at that time?”
“He was down in 805 riding herd on Dorrie Ambler.”