“Shut up,” Mason said. “Don’t talk to me and I don’t want to talk with you.”
Mason got to his feet and motioned to the policewoman.
Mason said as a parting shot to his client, “Don’t discuss this case with anybody. I don’t want you to answer any questions. I want you to sit absolutely tight. Say nothing, not a word.”
Chapter Thirteen
Back in his office Mason paced the floor while Della Street watched him with anxious eyes.
“Can you tell me what’s worrying you, Chief?” she asked.
Mason said, “It’s a tricky situation, Della. I’ve got to handle it in just the right way. If I do exactly the right thing and say exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, that’s one thing. If I misplay my cards, it’s another.”
Abruptly Mason stopped in his pacing. “Della,” he said, “get Paul Drake on the line, tell him I want to know every circumstance connected with the holdup of the bank at Santa Maria.”
“Is that pertinent?” Della Street asked.
“That’s pertinent,” Mason said. “Tell Paul I want a complete report listing every circumstance, every bit of evidence. Nothing is too minute, nothing is to be discarded.
“Have him charter a plane, fly an operative up there. Get busy. Work with witnesses.”
“You want the report by morning?” Della Street asked.
“I want the operative who makes the investigation to be back here by morning,” Mason said. “I want him in the courtroom where I can talk with him. Tell Paul to spare no expense, to charter a plane.
“Also tell Paul I want a complete report of all unsolved stick-ups between San Francisco and Los Angeles on the fifth, sixth and seventh of September. He can start collecting those by long distance telephone.
“Have him call police chiefs at the various cities. I want everything I can get.”
“But, look here,” Della Street said, “you can’t get around Jasper’s testimony about the gun, the conversations and the place where the body was found unless you—”
“All that testimony isn’t going to hurt the defendant,” Mason said.
“What!” she exclaimed.
“The murder of Dorrie Ambler doesn’t mean anything in this case,” Mason said, “unless the jury believes Minerva told them to murder her. If I can open up a doubt on that one point, then I can blast Jasper’s testimony. The death of Dorrie Ambler doesn’t mean a thing unless Minerva Minden told them to kill her.
“Even if Minerva Minden had an argument with Dorrie Ambler and killed her in the heat of passion, it wouldn’t have anything to do with this case unless it corroborated Jasper’s testimony, and if he is lying about being told to murder Dorrie Ambler, then he could be lying about the murder of Billings.”
Della Street shook her head. “You could never get a jury to believe that. They’d convict Minerva anyway.”
“If I play this right,” Mason said, “the judge is going to have to instruct the jury to return a verdict of not guilty.”
“He’d never dare to do that on a technicality,” Della Street said.
“Want to bet?” Mason asked.
Chapter Fourteen
Hamilton Burger was on his feet as soon as court had convened the next morning and Judge Flint had taken the bench.
“If the Court please,” he said, “in the case of the People of the State of California versus Minerva Minden I have one more piece of evidence to put in. I have here a certified copy of the firearms register showing the purchase by Minerva Minden of a thirty-eight-calibre Smith and Wesson revolver, Number C-48809.
“This is a sales record kept in accordance with law and is, I believe, prima-facie evidence of the matters therein contained. I offer this in evidence.”
“We have no objection,” Mason said. “The matter may go in.”
Paul Drake, accompanied by Jerry Nelson, hurriedly entered the courtroom, caught Mason’s eye.
The lawyer said, “May I have the indulgence of the Court for a moment, please?” and as Judge Flint nodded, Mason moved over to join the detectives.
Drake said in a low voice, “Nelson has all that’s known on that Santa Maria bank job, Perry. There were three persons on it, two in the bank, one driving the getaway car. Witnesses got a partial licence number and description. It’s the same car as the hit-and-run car and—”
“The driver,” Mason interrupted. “Was it a woman?”
Drake’s face showed surprise. “How did you know? Yes, it was a woman.”
“Any other jobs?” Mason asked.
“Yes, a liquor store stick-up in Bakersfield. It’s probably the same gang again — a light-colored Cadillac and a woman getaway driver.”
“Thanks,” Mason said. “That’s all I need.”
He turned to face Judge Flint. “If the Court please, before the prosecutor calls his next witness I have a question or two in regard to fingerprints which I would like to ask of Lieutenant Tragg on cross-examination. I notice that he is here in court and I ask the Court to be permitted to resume my cross-examination of this witness.”
“Is there any objection?” Judge Flint asked.
“There is, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said. “I think defence counsel should cross-examine his witnesses and complete his cross-examination. It is a habit of counsel to conduct piecemeal cross-examinations and—”
“The sequence of proof and all matters of procedure in connection with the examination of a witness are in the exclusive control of the Court,” Judge Flint said. “The Court in this case is particularly anxious to see that the defendant is not foreclosed in any manner from presenting her defence.
“The Court has decided to permit the motion. Lieutenant Tragg will return to the stand for further cross-examination.”
As Tragg stepped forward Mason nodded to Della Street, who opened a leather case, took out a folding tripod, placed it in front of the witness, put a small projector on the tripod, ran an electrical connection to a socket and put up a screen.
“This is to be a demonstration?” Judge Flint asked.
“I simply want to project a fingerprint so that I can get it to an exact size,” Mason said, “and question Lieutenant Tragg concerning points of similarity.”
“Very well, proceed.”
Mason turned on the projector, experimented for a moment with a spot of light on the screen, then said, “Now, Lieutenant, I am going to take a print of the thumb of the defendant on this specially prepared glass slide.”
Mason went over, extended his hand and Minerva Minden put out her thumb. Mason pressed the thumb against the slide for a moment, then said apologetically to the Court, “I may have to repeat this experiment, if the Court please, because I am not an expert in taking fingerprints.”
He went to the projector, put in the slide, focused it for a moment, said, “I am afraid I have smudged this one.”
He took another slide from his pocket, again went to the defendant, again received a thumbprint, then returned to the projector and focused the lens on the screen.
“Ah, yes,” Mason said, “we’re getting it now. I think this thumbprint is clear enough. You can see that, can you, Lieutenant?”
“Very well,” Lt. Tragg said.
“All right, I’ll arrange it so the three prints are as nearly the same size as possible; that is, the print on the left, which is the thumbprint of Dorrie Ambler; the print on the right of that which is the print of the thumb of the dead woman; and over on the right of that again, this print which I am projecting.”