“I don’t know,” Halder said shortly. “I refuse to make any predictions as to what action will be taken by the officials in other jurisdictions.”
Mason said, “I believe you stated over the telephone that you were being subjected to some pressure.”
“That’s right.”
“Pressure, I take it, from the law enforcement agencies in other counties.”
“Yes.”
“And quite obviously that pressure was not brought to bear upon you simply because of the possibility of an unlawful or unauthorized entry on the premises of Edward Davenport in Paradise, California. That pressure was brought to bear on you because someone feels that Ed Davenport is dead and that there is a possibility—mind you, Counselor, I am now talking entirely about the state of mind of the person or persons who brought pressure to bear on you—that there is a possibility Mrs. Davenport had something to do with the death of Edward Davenport. Isn’t that right?”
“I’m afraid I shouldn’t answer that question frankly, Mr. Mason.”
Mason said suavely, “Now it is my understanding of the law that if a person murders another person, that person cannot inherit any property from the decedent. Isn’t that your understanding, Counselor?”
“Exactly.”
“So,” Mason said, “suppose that you should ask me a question which would involve ownership to certain property—that is, the question of the status of the present title to that property, and suppose further it should be property which Ed Davenport owned in his lifetime, which he left to his wife under the terms of a will which would be perfectly valid on its face and which under ordinary circumstances would have passed title to the property to his widow. Then suppose I should, inadvertently mind you, in my answer indicate that the property did not at the present time belong to Mrs. Davenport, then it is quite possible that someone—not you, of course, Counselor, because I know you are too ethical to take advantage of a mere slip of that sort—but someone who was more technically minded would use that statement as an indication of the fact that I had admitted that Mrs. Davenport was guilty of the murder and therefore couldn’t take title and hadn’t taken title.”
Mason sat back, smiled at the three puzzled interrogators and took a cigarette case from his pocket.
“Anybody care to smoke?” he asked.
There was silence.
Mason extracted a cigarette, tapped it on the side of the cigarette case, lit up, blew out a cloud of smoke and fairly beamed at the interrogators.
“Well, now wait a minute,” Halder said. “I’ve started to question you and it seems that about all I’m doing is answering questions.”
“Of course,” Mason said, “I want to have the status of the interview plainly determined. I’m asking you now, Counselor, as one attorney to the other, what do you think? Should I say anything that would intimate in any way that I thought my client was not eligible to succeed to the estate of the dead husband?”
“Certainly not. No one’s asking you to.”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “Therefore when you ask me about a question of title I have to be very careful with my answer. Don’t you think so?”
“I’m not in a position to advise you,” Halder said.
“Exactly,” Mason conceded. “I appreciate your frankness, Counselor. And since you’re not in a position to advise me I have to advise myself. Now then, you’ve raised a very interesting question. I don’t know, under the circumstances, if I am at liberty to comment on any matter of title. However, go right ahead with your interrogation and I’ll see what can be done.”
Halder looked back at his paper. “While you were in that house,” he said, “the house belonging to Ed Davenport at Paradise, didn’t you pick the lock on a desk, open a lockbox, and remove an envelope on which there was written in Davenport’s handwriting ‘To be delivered to the authorities in the event of my death’?”
Mason paused thoughtfully.
“Can’t you answer that question?” Halder asked.
Mason pursed his lips. “There are a good many factors involved in that question. I am trying to divide them in my own mind.”
“Such as what?”
“In the first place,” Mason said, “once more you bring in the question of the ownership of the house.”
“Well, we can have it understood,” Halder said, “that whenever I refer to the house as Ed Davenport’s house I am talking about it in the general popular sense of the word and we won’t try to adjudicate the title here and now.”
“Oh no,” Mason said, “that would be an oral stipulation that I was not to be bound by my own statements. That might be all right as between you and me, Counselor, but it might not be all right as between some—well, let us say some cold blooded, calculating, merciless attorney who might be representing some other heir to the estate.”
“What other heir?”
“Well,” Mason said, “I haven’t figured it all out yet, but for instance there’s Sara Ansel. Sara Ansel’s sister married William Delano’s brother. Now let us suppose, for the sake of the argument, that the Delano estate could not come to Myrna Davenport.”
“Why not?”
“Oh because of various legal reasons, such, for instance. as the question—and, mind you, this is only a hypothetical question—that Myrna Davenport should be accused of the murder of William Delano.”
“She can’t be,” Halder said. “She’s accused of the murder of Hortense Paxton, but Delano wasn’t murdered. He was dying.”
“Then I have your assurance that she is not to be charged with the murder of William Delano? And I have your assurance William Delano was not murdered?”
“I’m not in a position to assure you of anything.”
“There we are,” Mason said. “Right back to where we started. I find myself in a very peculiar position, Counselor. I am exceedingly anxious to co-operate with you but—”
“What are you getting at? That Sara Ansel might be an heir to the estate?”
“Well,” Mason said, “suppose that Myrna was incapable of inheriting from William Delano under the will Delano left because of the fact that she was accused of murdering him. That would leave Mrs. Ansel perhaps in a position to inherit property which came to the dead brother of Delano—or would it? I’m frank to admit, Counselor, I haven’t looked up the law of succession.”
“Neither have I,” Halder said.
“Well, perhaps we’d better look it up now,” Mason said.
“No, no,” Halder said. “We’re getting this thing in an interminable mess. I want to keep my questions simple and I’d like to have simple, definite answers.”
“I’m certainly anxious to do it that way,” Mason said, “but the fact that this has become a formal hearing complicates the situation enormously.”
“I’m trying to make it informal.”
“But you said it was formal.”
“Well, that depends on what you call formal.”
“Reading from a written list.”
“Well, I tried to coordinate my thoughts in advance.”
Mason looked at him reproachfully. “And that was the only reason for preparing the list, Counselor? The only reason?”
“Well, of course,” Halder said, suddenly embarrassed, “I had conferred with other officials who suggested specific questions they wanted, answered.”