'And you didn't feel for his pulse?'
'No, sir.'
'You could only see him in the illumination which came from the dash light of the automobile?'
'Yes, sir.'
'You've never studied medicine?'
'No, sir.'
'How many dead people have you ever seen in your life-I mean before they were embalmed and placed in coffins?'
The witness hesitated and said, 'Four.'
'Had any of those persons died by violence?'
'No, sir.'
'So this was your first experience in viewing a man who had been shot, is that right?'
'Yes, sir.'
'And yet you're willing to swear the man was dead when you made no examination?'
'Well, if he wasn't dead he was certainly dying. Blood was spurting from those wounds.'
'Ah,' Mason said, 'he might have been dying, but not dead.'
'Well, perhaps.'
'And when you say that he was dying, you don't claim to have any medical skill, and had never before seen any man who was dying from gunshot wounds?'
'No, sir.'
'And had never seen a man die from gunshot wounds?'
'No, sir.'
'But you do know generally that sometimes men are shot, sometimes seriously, and ultimately recover, don't you?'
'Well… yes. I've heard of such cases.'
'Now, do you want to swear that this man was dying?'
'Well, I thought he was dying.'
'You wouldn't think much of a doctor who took a look at a man in the dim light given by the dash light of an automobile and then turned away and said the man was dead or dying and nothing could be done for him, would you?'
'No, sir.'
'You'd expect a doctor to listen for heart action with a stethoscope, wouldn't you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Yet you expect to look at the first man you had ever seen shot and be able to tell more than a trained physician, who had handled hundreds of similar cases, and without making the examination the physician would have had to make in order to reach an opinion?'
'Well, no, sir, I wouldn't say that.'
'Well, then, you don't know the man was dying, do you?'
'Well, I knew he had been shot.'
'Exactly,' Mason said, 'and that's all you know, isn't it?'
'Well, he was lying there all slumped over in a heap and he'd been shot, and there was blood on his head and on his clothes.'
'Exactly,' Mason said, 'that's all you can swear to. You heard shots fired, ran to the car, saw a man slumped over and bleeding, and that's all you know, isn't it?'
'Yes, I guess so.'
'You don't know whether he was dead?'
'No.'
'Nor whether he was dying?'
'No.'
'Nor whether the shots were more than mere flesh wounds.'
'Well… no, I didn't examine him.'
'That,' Mason said, 'is all.'
'No re-direct,' Shoemaker said, hesitating a moment.
'Call your next witness,' Judge Knox ordered.
Shoemaker called the police officers who had answered the telephone call to the harbor. They testified to the search they had made for the automobile, of finally discovering bloodstains on the pavement; of tracing the reddish stains, which had been mixed in with the rain water, until they came to a pier; that they had grappled and had pulled an automobile to the surface; that the car was that of Renwold C. Brownley; that it had been left in low gear and was still in low gear when recovered; that the hand throttle had been pulled open and that, after the car had been recovered, tests made with it showed that the position of the hand throttle was such that the car would go exactly 12.8 miles per hour in low gear with the hand throttle in the same position as when the car had been recovered; that they had found a.32 caliber Colt automatic on the floor of the car; that they had found some empty cartridges; that they had recovered from the upholstering of the car two bullets, one of which had evidently missed the occupant of the car, the other showing evidences of having passed through human flesh.
At this point, Judge Knox announced that the hour was twelve-thirty, and adjourned court until two o'clock in the afternoon.
Mason, Della Street, and Paul Drake went to lunch in a little restaurant on North Broadway, where they were able to secure a booth.
'What do you make of it, Paul?' Mason asked.
'You going to make a fight on the question of corpus delicti?'
'Yes. I had been hoping I could do it all along. But I wasn't certain what Bixler would testify to. I was afraid he might swear positively the man was dead, and stick to it. As it is, I think I can get the case thrown out of court.'
Drake nodded. 'You made a swell job of that cross-examination, Perry. Bixler was so rattled Shoemaker was afraid to try any re-direct.'
'Isn't that going to be a highly technical defense?' Della Street asked.
Mason said grimly, 'You're damned right it's going to be a technical defense. But, nevertheless, that's the law. Many people have been hanged on circumstantial evidence, where it subsequently appeared that the supposed victim never had been killed, but was alive and well. And that's the reason they made the law the way it is. The term, corpus delicti, means the body of the Offense. In order to show it, in a charge of homicide, the Prosecution must show death as the result, and the criminal agency of the defendant as the means. Now the Prosecution's going to run up against one big hurdle on this corpus delicti business. They can't show death, and if they're not careful, I can trap them into being crucified by their own proof.'
'How do you mean?' Della Street asked.
'It's a goofy crime,' Mason said. 'The woman, whoever she was, fired the shots from the automatic, and then beat it. Now, the evidence shows that she beat it in her own car, going at high speed. Someone drove Brownley's car into the bay. That someone couldn't have been the person who did the shooting, because she had been seen by the Prosecution's own witness dashing madly away from the scene of the crime. It's improbable that she had a confederate who remained in the background while the shooting took place, only to step out subsequently and drive the car off the end of the wharf.
'The only other explanation is that Brownley was unconscious when Bixler looked in the car; but that after Bixler left Brownley recovered consciousness enough to try to drive the car in search of help; that he managed to get the car started, but was driving more or less blindly through a lashing rain, became confused on roads, and drove himself off the end of the pier.'
Drake nodded slowly.
'Now, then,' Mason said, 'if when they recover Brownley's body, they find he died of drowning, it doesn't make any difference whether he might have died of the gunshot wounds within the next thirty minutes or the next thirty seconds. The fact that his death occurred from drowning, rather than from the wounds, means they can't convict Julia Branner of murder, because the wounds weren't the actual cause of death. That's a technical point, but it's been adjudicated.'
Della Street frowned at her coffee cup and said, 'Listen, Chief, on all your other cases you've been representing someone who was innocent. You've managed to bring the case to a spectacular conclusion by showing that the Prosecution had made a bad guess. People are for you. You have a reputation now, both as a lawyer and a detective; but the minute you resort to the ordinary tactics of the average criminal lawyer, you're going to turn people against you. If you use your ingenuity to get a guilty woman acquitted on a technicality, people are going to think you are tied up with murderers. They're going to lose their respect for you.'
Mason said slowly, 'In other cases, Della, I was more or less in the clear. On this case I'm in up to my necktie. They're going to put Pete Sacks on the stand. The minute they do that, and he testifies that Julia Branner asked him to murder Brownley and gave him the key to her apartment, and then says that I trapped him into a position where I stole that key from him, it's going to look like hell. That key wouldn't have been important if I hadn't taken it-but when I grabbed it, I made it the most important bit of evidence in the case. If the district attorney overlooks it, the Bar Association won't.'
'Could you keep Sacks from testifying if you tripped them up on this corpus delicti business?' Drake asked.
'That's exactly the point,' Mason told him. 'That's why I'm making this defense. If I can beat the case on the corpus delicti, I'll get Julia Branner off temporarily. They'll throw this case out of court and everything will then wait until they recover Brownley's body. Sacks will never get a chance to tell his story, and the key won't seem so important. When they do find the body, the chances are I can prove Brownley died by drowning. Then, if the district attorney proceeds against me, it'll look like spite work. I've got to beat them on this corpus delicti angle. And after I do that, I've got to find more facts that will help our theory of the case.'
The detective said, 'I've got men working on every angle of the case, Perry, but I can't find out a damn thing that's going to help us any. I've traced Mallory from the time he left the steamship in San Francisco until he arrived in Los Angeles. He stayed at the Palace Hotel in San Francisco, went directly there from the ship, and as nearly as the hotel employees in San Francisco can tell, the bishop who checked out was the same bishop who checked in.'
'That bishop,' Mason said, drumming with his fingertips on the edge of the table cloth, 'in some way is the key to the whole business. Why did he call on me? Why did he disappear? If he's the real goods, why did he take a runout powder? If he's an impostor, why didn't he pull a more convincing fade-out… telephone me he had to leave on a secret mission and ask me to carry on? There were plenty of ways he could have kept up the pretense, yet eased himself out of the picture. The darn case is driving me nuts because I can't get a toe-hold. I'm clawing at a blank wall. And why does Julia Branner act the way she does? Why won't she talk to me? Can't she see she's sending herself to the gallows and putting me in an impossible position?'
'Perhaps she won't talk because she's guilty,' Della Street suggested.
'I'm not so certain she's guilty,' Mason remarked. 'The theory of the crime the Prosecution has worked out doesn't sound any too logical. She may be protecting someone else and may be innocent, herself.'
