Magard moved a step closer. His appraisal of the lawyer was coldly hostile. In such a manner might an expert hangman survey a condemned prisoner, studying his build, his weight, the muscles of his neck.
“Well?” Mason asked.
Magard said, “I don’t like it,” turned abruptly on his heel, and walked away.
Mildreth Faulkner walked over to put her hand on Mason’s arm. “I probably don’t appreciate the fine legal points, but it seems to me you have them guessing.”
Mason said, “I think I’m on the track of something. Did you see Carlotta?”
The animation left her face. She nodded, and tears glistened in her eyes.
“How is she?”
“Pretty bad. After they got her to the receiving hospital, the doctor took charge. He said that for at least forty-eight hours she was to have no visitors. He made an exception in my case because she kept asking for me, and he thought it would make her feel better. He warned me I mustn’t talk about the case.”
“Did you?”
“Not exactly. But she had some things to tell me. I tried to stop her at first, but then decided it was better for her to talk and get it off her chest. It seemed to be worrying her.”
“What in particular?” Mason asked.
“They trapped her into admitting that she’d given you the stock certificate. They told her that you’d put yourself in the clear by turning it over to the police. Mr. Mason, how can police be so absolutely brutal, so utterly unscrupulous?”
“They figure they’re dealing with criminals and the ends justify the means.”
“Well, that’s no way to cope with crime. They lie and resort to brutality. They can’t ever get people’s respect doing that. They’re almost as bad as the criminals.”
Mason said, “You’re bitter now because it’s been brought so close to home — and after all, it’s an exceptional case.”
She said, “It’s going to be touch and go with Carla now. I don’t know whether she’ll pull through. She looks infinitely worse than I’ve ever seen her — and she was getting along so well.”
“I know,” Mason said sympathetically. “This is the very situation I was trying to avoid.”
“Well, it isn’t your fault. If she’d followed your instructions, she’d have been all right. She realizes that now.”
“And she hasn’t told them anything else — only about the stock?”
“That’s all, but with the evidence they have against her, that’s enough. Mr. Mason, she just can’t go ahead with this... And if they should convict her... Perhaps it might be better... better if...”
“She didn’t pull through?” Mason asked.
She tried in vain to blink back the tears, but nodded.
Mason said, “Something one of the witnesses said this afternoon gave me a new idea.”
“You mean there’s hope?”
“Lots of it.”
“If Bob would only be a man,” she said, “and tell the truth, he could save her. If he’d just admit that he was out there, and that she followed him... But Bob killed him, so naturally he won’t say anything that would risk his precious neck.”
“Bob probably doesn’t know that she followed him,” Mason said.
“He most certainly does,” Mildreth said indignantly. “Remember that Bob came to the Clearmount Hotel and got Carla. He drove her away, and they talked a lot. And do you know, Bob lied to her? He absolutely wouldn’t admit that he’d ever surrendered the stock or that he went out there to see Lynk? Can you imagine that — after she followed him herself, saw him with her own eyes going up to Lilac Canyon?”
“How does he account for that?”
“Well, you know Bob. He always has the most wonderful explanations. He says that before he’d gone ten blocks from the house, he picked up a friend of his. He won’t tell the friend’s name. He says that he drove the friend uptown, that the friend wanted to borrow the car for about an hour, and Bob stepped out and let him take the car.”
“Your sister believes that?”
“Of course she believes it! She’d believe anything he told her. She makes me sick.”
“Could that have happened?”
“I don’t see how. Carla was following him all the time. Of course, there were a few times when she got behind in traffic. Bob was shrewd enough to ask her first about the times she’d temporarily lost sight of the car. Then he had this changing of drivers occur at one of those times — the big four flusher.”
“Did you point out to Carla that...”
“Oh, I tried to, but what’s the use. I could see that she was very weak. She wanted to tell me these things because she wanted you to know them. That Lieutenant Tragg! If I ever get a chance to give him a piece of my mind, I...”
“You will,” Mason said. “Here he comes now.”
She whirled to face the door of the courtroom where Tragg, having just entered, smiled at the deputy, then pushed his way through a little knot of people gathered in the aisle, and came walking rapidly toward them. His smile was cordial. “Good afternoon,” he said.
Mildreth Faulkner tilted her chin and turned so that the point of her shoulder was toward him.
Tragg said, “Come, come, Miss Faulkner. Don’t take it that way.”
She said icily, “I don’t like lies, and I hate liars.”
He flushed.
Mason put his hand on her arm. “Take it easy,” he cautioned.
Tragg shifted his eyes to Mason. “No hard feelings, Mason?” he asked.
“No hard feelings,” Mason said. “I can dish it out, and I can take it. But I can’t help feeling concerned about my client.”
Tragg said, “I want to talk with you about that.”
“Go ahead.”
“First, however, I have a disagreeable duty to perform.”
“Yes,” Mildreth Faulkner said icily, “you want to carry water on both shoulders. You want to be friendly with people, but you betray their confidences and...”
“Easy,” Mason interrupted. “Let’s see what the lieutenant has to say.”
Tragg’s face was a shade darker than usual. He addressed his remarks entirely to Mason, carefully leaving Mildreth Faulkner out of the conversation. “I’m sorry, Mason, but you made an admission in open court that you had this stock certificate. I have no alternative but to demand that you turn it over to me, and am also notifying you that you’re going to be called in front of the grand jury.”
“Why?”
Tragg said, “You know Churchill, don’t you?”
“You mean Loring Churchill, the deputy district attorney?”
“That’s the one.”
“What about him?”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“That’s nothing,” Mason said promptly. “I don’t like him. He’s an egotistical, academic nonentity. He has the brains of an encyclopedia, and the personality of a last year’s almanac.”
Tragg laughed. “Well, anyway, he sent me up here to get that stock.”
“How did he know I had it?”
“As soon as you made the statement in open court, we were advised. Churchill was waiting for that.”
Mason said, “Well, you don’t get the stock.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been served with a subpoena ordering me to bring that stock into court.”
Tragg said, “Don’t adopt that attitude, Mason. It won’t get you anywhere.”
“Why not?”
“You’re in a jam.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve suppressed evidence.”
“What’s the evidence?”
“That stock certificate.”
Mason said, “I stood up in open court and admitted that I had it. That doesn’t sound like concealing it.”
“You wouldn’t have made that admission unless you’d been served with a subpoena, and, even then, you wouldn’t have admitted it unless I’d trapped Mrs. Lawley into admitting she gave it to you.”