“In pajamas. It was barefoot and it had been buried in a grave that had been dug two or three days in advance.”
“You mean it was buried in a hole in the ground that had been there for some time?”
“Well, that’s your way of presenting it,” Vandling said. “As far as I’m concerned it was a grave that had been dug several days in advance and dug for the specific purpose of receiving Davenport’s body.”
“And how did he die?” Mason asked.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Vandling said, “but our best guess is that it was poison.”
“Arsenic?”
“Potassium cyanide. We haven’t had the autopsy yet.”
“Then death would have been almost instantaneous.” Vandling nodded.
“The candy?” Mason asked.
“The candy in his bag was loaded with arsenic and potassium cyanide. Most of the pieces had arsenic. Some of them had potassium cyanide. It was a neat job of poisoning. Part of the liquid had been drained out, evidently with a suction needle, and liquid containing poison had been introduced.”
“Why the devil would anyone have used two types of poison?” Mason asked.
Vandling said, “I’d like to have the answer to that, too.”
“Particularly.” Mason said. “A slow-acting poison and one that would have taken effect almost immediately.”
“It’s a question,” Vandling admitted. “In fact, there are questions in this case that I can’t answer. I don’t like to prosecute a case unless I know that I have a case. If I ask a jury to return the death penalty against this woman, I want to be certain that she is guilty of cold-blooded, premeditated, first degree murder.”
Mason nodded.
“I’ve read a lot about you,” Vandling went on. “You’re a tough, resourceful fighter. You believe in the dramatic. I’m not too keen to go up against you in a case where I can’t be sure it’s dead open-and-shut.”
“And so?” Mason asked.
Vandling’s friendly smile was once more in evidence. “And so,” he said. “That’s all I can say to you at the present time.”
“What is?”
“I’ll repeat. I don’t like to ask for the death penalty in a case unless I’m sure it’s cold-blooded, deliberate, premeditated murder; that there are some things in this case I can’t explain at the present time. I don’t seem to have the answers. There’s a defense witness who has slipped through the fingers of the police.
“I have a reputation to maintain as a prosecutor. You’re dynamite. You’re deadly dangerous. If there are any facts in a case that the prosecution can’t explain, you’re going to dramatize those facts in some way so that they seem to be the most important facts in the entire case.”
“And so?” Mason asked.
“That’s all I can say at the present time.”
“Well, let’s look ahead a little.”
“I’m not a fortune teller or a prophet.”
“Let’s explore some of the possibilities that might happen.”
Vandling said. “If you put it on that basis, a prosecutor nearly always finds that when he has enough evidence to prove a person is guilty there are some elements in the case that he still can’t account for. When that happens he sometimes goes ahead and gets a conviction anyway. Sometimes he offers to make a deal.”
“What sort of a deal?”
“Oh, it runs into all kinds of things. Sometimes he agrees not to ask for the death penalty if the defendant pleads guilty. Sometimes he lets the defendant plead guilty to second degree murder. Sometimes, in extreme cases, if the defendant can make a good showing, he’s willing to accept a manslaughter plea.”
“But in this particular case?” Mason asked.
“In this particular case,“Vandling said, “I am not in a position to say anything further at the present time.”
“Well, I guess we understand each other,” Mason told him.
“And you want to see the defendant, I take it.”
Mason nodded.
Vandling said, “I came down here personally because I wanted to meet you and because I wanted to assure you that you aren’t going to have the slightest trouble seeing the defendant. Up in this county we don’t go in for a lot of third degree stuff. We don’t try to keep a defendant away from counsel. You’ll find Mrs. Davenport waiting for you in a conference room, and I’ll give you my personal assurance that there aren’t any bugs in that room. It isn’t wired. Whatever you say to each other is going to be private and confidential. If Mrs. Davenport wants to talk to me I’ll ask her questions from time to time. If she doesn’t want to answer them that’s her privilege. You’re her attorney and you’re going to have every professional courtesy extended to you in this county and we’re going to safeguard the rights of the defendant just as jealously as you are.”
“Thanks,” Mason said.
“And,” Vandling went on, “if the evidence indicates that she deliberately poisoned her husband I’m going to ask for the death penalty.”
Mason nodded.
“And if she gets acquitted up here,” Vandling said, “The district attorney in Los Angeles wants her, to charge her with the poison murder of Miss Hortense Paxton.”
Again Mason nodded.
“I thought you might like to know those things,” Vandling said, “particularly in case you considered having the defendant plead guilty. Right now, in view of the fact that an important defense witness seems to have given the police the slip, if you wanted to go into court, comment on that fact and have your client plead guilty. I would certainly advise the court that under those circumstances the prosecution would be content to ask for life imprisonment and not for the death penalty.”
“And then they’d take her back to Los Angeles to try her for the murder of Hortense Paxton,” Mason said, “and when she got on the stand to deny her guilt the district attorney would cross-examine her and by way of impeachment would say, ‘Isn’t it a fact that you have been convicted of a felony?, and she would have to say, ‘Yes.’ Then he would say, ‘Isn’t it a fact that you were convicted of poisoning your husband up in Fresno County?’ and she’d have to say, ‘Yes.’ And then the jury in Los Angeles would decide she was a habitual poisoner and would close their ears to any evidence that might be in her favor, would find that she was guilty of the poison murder of Hortense Paxton and would sentence her to death.”
Vandling placed his hand to his face, rubbed his fingers along the angle of his jaw, and then slowly nodded. “Yes,” he said at length, “I can see that you have your problems, too, Counselor.”
“So,” Mason said, “I’ll go and talk with my client. Thanks for putting the cards on the table. I have an idea it’s going to be rather tough trying a case with you on the other side.”
Vandling’s fingers gripped Mason’s hand. “I’m going to try my damnedest to make it tough,” he said. “How about what happened up in Paradise? How about that letter with the blank sheets of paper in it and the flap that had been steamed open? You want to make any statement about that?”
Mason shook his head.
“I didn’t think you would,” Vandling said. “The D.A. up there telephoned me that I’d find you loquacious but evasive. He said you’d talk your head off but wouldn’t say anything.”
Mason said, “A man’s tactics change with different people and with different circumstances. I think it would be rather difficult to be loquacious and evasive with you.”
“I’d try to make it so,” Vandling said. “Well, go ahead and see your client, Mason, and anything we can do here to make you comfortable just call on us. I’m a Rotarian myself. I’d like to take you down to the club and introduce you. If you like to play golf, we can fix you up and—”