Erle Stanley Gardner
The Case of the Queenly Contestant
Foreword
Professor Leon Derobert is internationally known and respected for his work in the field of legal medicine.
I have, from time to time, commented in my books about the importance of legal medicine and its function in the detection of crime.
We hear so much about the efficiency of science in detecting crimes that too few people realize what a sad state of affairs results when science is absent in this field. And, yet, science almost always is absent unless there is some regularly qualified expert in forensic medicine to take charge of the investigation.
Many times wounds of entrance in the case of a gunshot are considered wounds of exit. Many times death by poisoning is mistaken for a natural death.
I have tried in these Perry Mason books to impress upon my readers who are interested in crime (and many of whom are first-class amateur detectives) the importance of supporting a program of legal medicine.
And so it gives me great pleasure to dedicate this book to my friend, PROFESSOR LEON DEROBERT.
— ERLE STANLEY GARDNER
Chapter One
Della Street, Perry Mason’s confidential secretary, answered the telephone, talked briefly with the receptionist, then turned to Perry Mason.
“There is a woman in the outer office who gives her name simply as Ellen Adair. She says she knows it is an imposition to try to see you without an appointment, but she is prepared to pay you anything within reason. She has to see you right away on a matter of the greatest urgency, and she’s very agitated.”
Mason glanced at his wristwatch and at the papers on which he was working.
Della Street, looking at the appointment book, said hopefully, “You have twenty-eight minutes until your next appointment.”
“I wanted to have this legal point digested before that time,” Mason said, then shrugged. “Oh, well, I guess we have to take care of the urgent matters. Go take a look, Della, and size her up. Find out what she wants to see me about.”
Della nodded, said into the telephone, “Tell her that I’ll be right out, Gertie.”
Della Street left the office to return within a couple of minutes.
“Well,” Mason asked.
“She gets me,” Della Street said. “She’s a tall woman in her late thirties or perhaps early forties. Her clothes are quiet, modest, and expensive. Her bearing is regal — that of someone who is accustomed to giving orders. She’s two or three inches taller than I am and well formed.”
“And what does she want to see me about?” Mason asked.
“She wants to ask you some questions about law,” Della said. “She says the questions will be purely academic and impersonal.”
Mason sighed. “Another one of these cases where a client tries to hide behind a shield of anonymity. She’ll come in and say, ‘Suppose A marries B and B inherits property from his mother in New Mexico. Suppose A and B are having a divorce. Can A claim one-half of the property?’ Oh, I know the whole rigmarole, Della.”
Della extended a fifty-dollar bill. “She has given me fifty dollars as a retainer.”
Mason hesitated a moment, then said, “Give it back to her. Tell her that I’ll talk with her briefly: that if I decide to answer her questions, I’ll make a reasonable charge; that if I can’t satisfy myself she is putting her cards face up on the table, she had better get another attorney.”
“She says there is no time to get another attorney, that she simply has to see you, and that action has to be taken immediately.”
“I see,” Mason said. “She wants to ask me a lot of academic law questions and then take action. Oh, well, Della, she’s a human being, she’s in trouble of some sort, so let’s find out what it’s all about. Bring her in.”
Della Street nodded, left the office, and returned within a matter of seconds with a woman who stood very erect and held her head back and her chin up in an imperious manner. She bowed to Mason, said, “Mr. Mason, thank you for seeing me,” walked over to the client’s chair, calmly seated herself, and said, “Please pay very careful attention to what I am about to say, Mr. Mason, because we are fighting against time and I have to know where I stand.”
“And what’s the trouble?” Mason asked.
She shook her head. “Let me ask the questions, please. Mr. Mason, I have heard something about the right of privacy. Can you tell me what it is?”
“The right of privacy,” Mason said, “has been defined as the right of a person to be left alone.”
“That means he is immune from publicity?”
“No,” Mason said, “like every other doctrine of law, it is subject to exceptions. Perhaps if you’d tell me just what is bothering you, I could save a lot of time. A dissertation on the law of privacy would consume a lot of time, and some of the information I would be giving you would be irrelevant.”
“Such as what?” she asked. “Please tell me quickly what are the exceptions.”
Mason said, “If you are walking along the street in a public place and a photographer takes your picture to illustrate a street scene, he can use that picture as a magazine illustration.
“If the photographer singles you out to take your particular picture, he may or may not still be within his rights. If he uses that picture for any commercial enterprise, he has violated your privacy.
“If, on the other hand, you become newsworthy because you are the victim of a holdup, or if you decide to run for public office, or if you do anything of your own volition which makes you newsworthy...”
“I see. I see,” she said, looking at her watch impatiently. “You’re right. I’m going at it in the wrong way. A person who runs for public office waives the right of privacy?”
“Within reasonable limitations, yes.”
“How about a person who runs for — well, a beauty contest?”
“Declaring herself as a candidate?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“The same situation would apply.”
“And how long would that situation last?”
“At least as long as the contest and the enjoyment of the rewards of the contest, if any.
“Understand, Miss Adair — or is it Mrs. Adair?”
“It’s Miss Adair,” the woman said sharply. “Ellen Adair.”
“All right. Understand, Miss Adair, this is a relatively new branch of the law. From its very nature it is not capable of exact, precise delineation. Each case depends largely on the facts in that particular case.
“Now let me suggest that, if you’re involved in anything where you wish to assert your right to privacy, you start in, in an orderly way, by telling me the facts of the case and quit beating around the bush.
“After I have the facts I can apply my knowledge of the law to the facts and give you an intelligent answer.
“If you try to get the law from me and then apply the law to the facts, you may make a very costly mistake. You might know the legal principle, but the application to a particular set of facts would be all wrong.”
She hesitated, bit her lip, frowned, averted her eyes, then reaching a sudden decision, turned to Mason and said, “Very well; twenty years ago in a Midwestern city I was a contestant in one of those bathing-beauty contests. I won first prize. I was eighteen at the time. Winning the contest went to my head. I thought I was a motion-picture star, because winning the contest gave me a free trip to Hollywood and a screen test by one of the major studios.”
“You came to Hollywood and took the test?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“And have been here ever since?”
Ellen Adair shook her head, “No,” she said, “I disappeared.”