“There’s no explanation,” Mason said, “logical or otherwise. We are standing on our rights to remain silent.
“I want five minutes to confer with my client, Lieutenant. Would you mind waiting in the outer office? Then I’ll surrender her and you can take her to Headquarters.”
“After they’re once arrested you’re supposed to have your conferences with them in a conference room at the detention ward,” Tragg said.
“That’s after they’re booked,” Mason told him. “Of course, if you want to adopt the position that you’re refusing to let me confer with my client, then I...”
“No, no, not at all,” Tragg said; “we’re not walking into any trap today — not if we can help it. You want five minutes?”
“Five minutes.”
“I’ll give you five minutes,” Tragg said, and, bowing sardonically, stepped out into the other office.
Mason turned to Ellen Adair. “Is Agnes Burlington’s diary in that envelope?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Out of the top bureau drawer.”
“All right,” Mason said; “now, you went there earlier. You found her dead. You made a search. You picked up the diary.”
“Yes.”
“Was there a gun anywhere there?”
“No.”
“Do you own a gun?”
“Why, yes.”
“What kind of gun?”
“A thirty-eight-caliber Colt.”
“Where is it now?”
“Heavens, I don’t know. Somewhere in my apartment I guess. I... no, I remember now. I loaned it to Wight. He wanted to do some target practicing. He was taking a girl out on a picnic and — well, he’s an awfully good shot and I guess he wanted to show off a little bit.”
“What did he do with the gun? Did he give it back?”
“No, he still has it, unless... oh, my God!”
“What now?” Mason asked.
“I remember now. He told me that he was going to put it in the glove compartment of my car when he got done with it.”
“Do you know if he did it?”
“No, but I presume he did.”
“Then when the police impounded your car they could have found a thirty-eight-caliber revolver in it?”
“I guess they could have.”
Mason said, “If it should turn out that that revolver is the fatal weapon, there’s nothing anybody can do that will save you. A jury is going to bring in a verdict of first-degree murder.”
“I... I guess you think I’ve been rather stupid, don’t you, Mr. Mason?”
“That,” Mason said, “is a very good appraisal of the situation. You’ve tried to be smart, and all you’ve done is outsmarted yourself.”
The lawyer stepped to the door of the outer office.
“Only three and a half minutes,” Tragg said cheerfully.
“That’s good,” Mason told him grimly. “Keep the change. You can have what’s left.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mason sat in his office, shirt open at the neck, the remnants of a cup of coffee in front of him.
Paul Drake sat in the client’s overstuffed chair, making notes. Della Street opened a sealed package, put a new charge of coffee in the percolator.
Mason, dog-tired, said, “I’m stuck with this woman, Paul. I walked into the case blind and I can’t get out.
“Now, then, I can’t tell you all that the police have on her because probably I don’t know, but the big thing I have to find out is whether the police have located the fatal weapon.”
“Your client have a gun?” Drake asked.
“That,” Mason said, “is only part of the question. She has a thirty-eight-caliber Colt revolver which was bought in an open market at a reputable gun store, and the store’s firearm record will show she has that gun.”
“Where is it?” Drake asked.
“Probably in the hands of the police,” Mason said. “Now, then, Paul, the thing I absolutely have to find out is whether that gun fired the fatal bullet.”
“And if it did?” Drake asked.
“If it did,” Mason said, “the only thing I can do is to try to cop a plea. There isn’t one chance in ten thousand that a jury would acquit Ellen Adair.”
“And if it isn’t the fatal gun?”
“If it isn’t the fatal gun,” Mason said, “we’ve got to be able to prove that it isn’t the fatal gun.
“The fact that she had a gun and the fact that the gun is presumably the same type of gun which was used in the murder — by that I mean it wasn’t an automatic and didn’t eject a cartridge — and all of the other things combined are going to make quite a case of circumstantial evidence.”
“But it’ll still be circumstantial evidence,” Drake said.
“Circumstantial evidence,” Mason told him, “is, as a matter of fact, about the strongest evidence we have. The big trouble with circumstantial evidence lies in its interpretation.”
Drake said, “I understand from a confidential source that the police are going to be able to show that Ellen Adair’s automobile was parked in Agnes Burlington’s driveway and that Ellen Adair was inside the house long before the police were notified.
“The assumption of the prosecution is going to be that there was some evidence she wanted suppressed or changed in some way and that Ellen Adair came and got you and you went with her to the scene of the crime, fixed things the way you wanted them to be found by the police, and then notified the police.”
“They’ll adopt that attitude,” Mason said. “It’s an unjust attitude and an uncharitable attitude as far as an attorney-at-law is concerned, but, nevertheless, there’s enough evidence to support it, so they’ll adopt it.”
“Can they prove that her car was there and that she was in the place?” Drake asked. “If they can, it looks pretty tough, unless you can do some mighty fast talking by way of explanation.”
Mason said, “It’s just another piece of circumstantial evidence, and there are lots of bits of evidence. For instance, Paul, I think the circumstantial evidence will show that Agnes Burlington met her death within about two hours after she had eaten a meal. I want to know what that meal consisted of and what time it was eaten.”
“How are you going to prove that?”
“There’s a supermarket nearby. I think probably she ran in there from time to time for provisions. See what you can find out there.”
“Think they’ll remember her at the supermarket?” Drake asked.
“It’s a chance worth taking,” Mason said. “I have an idea that we’re dealing with a woman living alone who would go into the supermarket, pick up a few odds and ends, perhaps one of these complete frozen dinners, take it home, put it in the oven until it was ready to serve, then eat — that is, when she was eating by herself.
“Now, then, the police have been a little bit reluctant to give out information about the contents of the stomach. I think perhaps there’s a clue in their reluctance.
“If she had eaten a steak dinner with French fried potatoes, a salad and perhaps a dish of vegetables, it would indicate that she had been out with some man, in which event the man would have escorted her back to her duplex house.”
“But you don’t know whether it was a dinner she ate as her last meal or a lunch or a breakfast.”
“I know that the lights had been left on,” Mason said, “and that leads me to believe that the crime took place sometime in the evening; and if that was within two hours of the time the meal was ingested, it probably was the sort of meal she’d get when she didn’t want to be bothered with a lot of cooking and a lot of dishes.
“If, on the other hand, the meal was one that would have cost from three to six dollars in a restaurant, I have an idea she was out with a man.”