Страница 38 из 43
Shoemaker, so indignant as to be speechless for the moment, stood groping for words with which to clothe an effective argument.
"I'm going to adjourn this case until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock," Judge Knox said. "At that time, Counsel can argue the question; but I am very much inclined to hold that at the present time the corpus delicti has not been shown, and while perhaps technically I should confine myself only to a question of whether a crime has been committed, I'm inclined to take a broader view of the situation, particularly because a dismissal of the case at this time would not be a bar to a subsequent prosecution."
"But," Shoemaker protested, "would your Honor claim that we haven't shown a sufficient case of assault with a deadly weapon?"
Judge Knox smiled and said, "And would the district attorney's office be willing to have the Court bind over the defendant only on a charge of assault with a deadly weapon with intent to commit murder and release her from a murder charge?"
"No!" Shoemaker shouted. "We're going to prosecute her for murder. That's what she's guilty of…" As he realized the full effect of his statement, he let his voice drop into a low tone, hesitated for a moment, then sat down uncertainly.
Judge Knox let his smile become a grin. "I think, Counselor," he said, "your own argument illustrates better than anything I could say the fallacy of your present contention. Court will take a recess until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. The defendant is, of course, remanded to the custody of the sheriff."
Perry Mason glanced over his shoulder at Paul Drake. The detective had produced a handkerchief from his pocket and was mopping his forehead. Mason himself heaved a sigh of relief as Judge Knox arose from the bench. Turning to Julia Bra
Her lips clamped in a thin line. She shook her head, arose from the chair and nodded to the deputy sheriff who was waiting to take her back to the jail.
Chapter 16
Della Street twisted her fingers around Perry Mason's right hand, where it rested on the steering wheel and said, "Chief, isn't there something I can do? Couldn't I go talk with the district attorney?"
He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Couldn't I take the rap? Couldn't I say that I took the stuff, that I took the key?"
"No," he said, "Burger's after me. He doesn't think he's holding any malice, but, for a long time now, he's been predicting that I'd come a cropper. Naturally, he's prejudiced in favor of making his predictions come true."
"Chief," she said, snuggling close to him, "you know I'd do anything, anything."
Mason kept his left hand on the steering wheel, slipped his right hand about her shoulders, squeezed her affectionately. "Good kid, Della," he said, "but there's nothing you can do. We've just got to take it."
"Listen, Chief," she said, "how was that crime committed? It doesn't sound reasonable that the district attorney's theory is right."
"Julia might have done the shooting in a wild blaze of temper," he admitted, "but in that case there'd have been some sort of an argument first. She didn't lure him down there to kill him, that's a cinch. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left so broad a back trail."
"Then why did she lure him down there?"
"That's something I can't tell you," he said, "but it has something to do with our stuttering bishop, our disappearing Janice Seaton, and perhaps a few others."
"And she didn't intend to kill him when she left the apartment?"
"Not one chance in a hundred," Mason said.
"But didn't you tell me that when you went there in the morning Stella Kenwood had been sitting up all night, that her attitude showed she knew Julia Bra
Mason suddenly slammed the brakes on the car, skidded into the curb, kicked out the gear lever and stared at Della Street with wide eyes. "Now," he said, "you're talking."
"What do you mean, Chief? You mean…?"
"Wait a minute," he said, "I want to think." He sat there in the car, the motor ru
She opened her purse and nodded her head.
Mason slammed home the gear shift lever, kicked in the clutch. "Come on," he said, "we'll go places." He swung the car out from the curb and made time to the frame apartment house on Beechwood, rang Stella Kenwood's bell, received an answering buzz which released the catch on the door. "Come on, Della," he said, "we'll go up. When we get in that room, pull out your notebook and take down everything that's said and don't lose your head, no matter what happens."
They climbed the stairs and walked down the corridor to Stella Kenwood's apartment. Mason knocked on the door. Stella Kenwood opened it, peered at him with a white, anxious face, blinked her faded, watery eyes, and said in a thin, expressionless voice, "Oh, it's you."
Mason nodded.
"Come in," she said.
"My secretary, Miss Street."
"Yes, I saw her in court today. What does it mean, Mr. Mason? Aren't they going to take any evidence against Julia?"
Mason said, "Sit down, Mrs. Kenwood. I want to ask you some questions."
"Yes," she said tonelessly, "what?"
Mason said, "Your daughter has been in an automobile accident. I want you to prepare yourself for a shock."
Her mouth sagged open. Her eyes grew wide.
"My daughter?" she asked.
"Yes."
"But I haven't any daughter… she's dead. She died two years ago."
Mason shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, but it all came out. She's dying and she wants you to come to her. She made a complete confession."
The woman sat perfectly still, staring at Mason with her tired eyes, her white face apathetic and hopeless. Finally she said in a tired voice, "I knew something like this would happen. Where is she?"
"Get your hat," Mason said, "we'll go to her. How long had you been pla
"I don't know," she said in that same lifeless voice, "ever since Julia told me about her daughter, I guess. I realized what a chance there'd be for some girl."
"So you got in touch with Mr. Sacks?"
"Yes. He was a detective in Salt Lake."
"And he worked through Jaxon Eaves here?"
"That's right. Tell me, how did the accident happen?"
"A crash at a crossing," Mason said. "Come on, we'll have to hurry to get there in time."
The woman buttoned a faded blue coat with threadbare elbows about her thin frame. Mason said to Della Street, "Get District Attorney Burger on the line and tell him to meet me in the reception room of the Good Samaritan Hospital. Read him this conversation over the telephone. Tell him to burn up the road getting there."
Stella Kenwood said, "He won't try to make things hard for my daughter now, will he? If it's the end, he won't trouble her with a lot of questions, will he?"
"I don't think so," Mason said. "Come on, let's go."
He left Della Street in the apartment while he escorted Stella Kenwood down the stairs and into his car. He raced the car into speed, said to Stella Kenwood, "I'm afraid you'll have to make a complete statement to the district attorney in order to get him to let you be with her at the last."
"There's no hope?" she asked.
"None whatever," Mason told her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I tried to do what was best, but somehow I knew it was going to work out all wrong, and then when it looked as though we were going to be exposed…"