“I don’t know what he did. I know I’m out here on my own on a vacation.”
“Then you are getting paid for your time out here?”
“All right, I’m entitled to it. If I want to spend my vacation out here, that’s my business.”
“Now, then,” Mason said, “did Mr. Lovett offer you some sort of a bonus in case he was successful in his contention and in case your testimony was instrumental in winning his case?”
“He did not!”
“Didn’t he tell you that if your evidence stood up in court his clients would be—”
“Well, that’s different,” she said. “That’s something else again. You asked me about Mr. Lovett.”
“But Mr. Lovett told you that his clients would be grateful?”
“Something like that.”
“Very grateful?”
“Well, they certainly should be. There’s a two-million-dollar estate involved, and they couldn’t ever have found out the truth if it hadn’t been for me and what Ellen told me.”
Mason said, “You say there’s a two-million-dollar estate involved?”
“That’s right. Ezekiel Haslett, Harmon Haslett’s father, died and left all of the stock in the Cloverville Spring and Suspension Company to Harmon. Then Harmon was on a yachting trip and the yacht was wrecked and there have been no survivors. There are two half brothers, Bruce and Norman Jasper, and I believe there’s some funny sort of a will in which Harmon Haslett stated that he had reason to believe he might be the father of an illegitimate child and if that was the case he left all of his estate to the illegitimate child.
“Now, that’s what you were going to try to drag out of me on cross-examination,” the witness said defiantly. “Now I’ve told you all I know, and I’ve told you the truth.”
The witness got up, preparing to leave the witness stand.
“Just a moment, just a moment,” Mason said. “I haven’t yet come to the point I wanted to bring out. Were you acquainted with Agnes Burlington in her lifetime?”
The witness dropped back into the witness stand, glared at Mason, averted her eyes, looked back at Mason, and said defiantly, “I had met her, yes.”
“When did you meet her?”
“I met her on the evening of the third.”
“Where?”
“At her duplex home.”
“And how did you happen to go there?”
“Now, just a minute, just a minute,” Dillon interrupted. “This is all news to the prosecution, and I object to it on the ground that it is not proper cross-examination. We did not bring out anything whatever about the relations of this witness with Agnes Burlington, and I think this part of the testimony is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”
“Well, I don’t,” Judge Elwell snapped. “If this witness, with her interest in the case, knew Agnes Burlington, I’d like to find out about it, and I’d like to find out what Agnes Burlington had to do with the case.”
“Answer the question,” Mason said.
“All right,” Maxine Edfield said defiantly. “Mr. Lovett had detectives who had told him about Agnes Burlington, who had been a nurse in a hospital in San Francisco and had been in attendance at a time when a baby boy, who is now named Wight Baird, was born.
“Well, I heard that Ellen was going to rely on this Agnes Burlington to establish her fraudulent claim against the estate of Harmon Haslett.
“Well, I went to see her because I knew that anything she would testify to would be completely false. I wanted to tell her unmistakably and plainly right from the start that I knew Ellen Calvert had been just using the old razzle-dazzle on Harmon Haslett in order to make him think he was going to be a father.”
“And you saw Agnes Burlington?”
“I saw her.”
“Did you get anywhere with her?”
“I told her frankly that if she testified to the fact that Ellen Calvert had had a child, I could prove she was a liar.”
“What else?”
“That was all. She virtually threw me out, told me to mind my own business. The whole interview didn’t take over ten minutes — but I warned her: I told her she could be convicted of perjury if she swore to those lies.”
“What did she say to that?”
“Just told me to get out.”
“I have no further question,” Mason said.
“That’s all,” Dillon said, “and that concludes the testimony of the prosecution, except that I want to formally introduce in evidence the thirty-eight-caliber revolver which the police found in the glove compartment of the defendant’s car.”
Judge Elwell said, “I think there is no question that the circumstantial evidence here is sufficient to bind the defendant over. However, if Mr. Mason has any testimony...”
Mason arose deferentially. “If the Court pleases,” he said, “I would like to call Mr. Paul Drake as my first witness.”
“Very well. Mr. Drake, come forward and be sworn.”
Mason examined Paul Drake. “Your name is Paul Drake. You are a duly licensed private detective and have, from time to time, been employed by me in connection with cases?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now I am going to ask you if, pursuant to my instructions, you found out where the decedent, Agnes Burlington, was accustomed to buying her groceries.”
“I did; yes, sir.”
“Directing your attention to the evening of the fourth of this month, do you know where Agnes Burlington purchased groceries?”
“On the late afternoon of the fourth,” Paul Drake said, “Agnes Burlington purchased a frozen dinner at the Sunrise Special Supermarket, which is approximately two blocks from where she lived.”
“Do you know what she purchased at that time?”
“I know only because of hearsay through talking with a Miss Donna Findley, who is one of the checkers at the market.”
“Very well,” Mason said; “I will ask you to step down and I will call Miss Donna Findley as my next witness.”
Donna Findley, an attractive young woman in her early twenties, took the witness stand, was sworn, and gave her name and occupation.
“Were you acquainted with Agnes Burlington in her lifetime?” Mason asked.
“I was. I was quite friendly with her — that is, in a business way.”
“What do you mean by in a business way?”
“I am a checker at the Sunrise Special Supermarket and Agnes Burlington bought groceries there quite frequently. She would usually check out at my counter, and we’d talk for a minute while I was adding up the total.”
“Do you remember an occasion on the evening of the fourth?”
“Very well,” she said.
“What happened?”
“Agnes bought a loaf of bread, a bar of butter, a carton of milk, and a frozen dinner, of the kind known as the TV Special.”
“Do you know what was in the TV Special Dinner?”
“It was a scallop dinner, containing scallops, green peas, mashed potatoes, and a special sauce for the scallops.”
“How do you happen to remember that?” Mason asked.
“We talked, and I asked her what she was eating that night, and she told me she was having one of the scallop dinners — that she had them from time to time and they were very nice.”
“Thank you,” Mason said. “You may inquire.”
“Just this one particular evening,” Dillon asked sarcastically, “you talked with Agnes Burlington about what she was going to eat?”
“No, I talked with her many times. Agnes lived by herself, and she used quite a bit of frozen food.”
“You remember this was the fourth?”
“Very clearly, because I remember that I didn’t see her on the fifth, and then on the sixth I heard about her death.”
“What time was this on the fourth?”
“About five-thirty in the evening, perhaps a quarter to six.”
“How do you fix the time?”