“The point is well taken,” he said. “Now, I’m going to ask you to help me uncover some of the facts.”
“What?”
“Did you know Sindler Coll?”
“No.”
“You’ve heard your brother-in-law speak of him?”
“Yes.”
“What did Lawley say about him?”
“He said that he wanted to bring Coll up to the house some night when my sister got better.”
“Your sister is an invalid?”
“That’s right — temporarily.”
“Did Mr. Lawley mention anything about betting or horse racing in connection with Mr. Coll?”
“No. He just said that he thought we’d like Coll.”
“What did you say?”
“I said nothing.”
“Do I understand that you and your brother-in-law don’t get along very well?”
“Oh, he’s all right, but — well, you’re asking me what I said, and that’s what I said — nothing.”
“And your sister?”
“I’ve forgotten. I think Carla said it would be very nice.”
“Now,” Tragg said, “I’m going to give you a few words, Miss Faulkner, and I want you to be thoroughly relaxed and at ease and tell me what each word calls to your mind.”
“Another trap?” she asked.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “My dear young woman, I told you that if you were guilty, I was going to trap you. The way you keep harping on the subject leads me to believe that you are — oh, well, skip it.”
She said, “Just because you’re a police officer who comes barging in here at two-thirty in the morning, I suppose that if I’m not guilty, I’m to sit up all night and play charades with you.”
“Hardly that. I’ll take only a few minutes more of your time. Please remember, Miss Faulkner, that what I’m trying to do is to uncover the facts. If you’re afraid to have me learn the truth, don’t co-operate. If there’s no reason why you wish to keep me from learning the truth, your co-operation will be appreciated.”
“You’ve said all that before.”
“So I have.”
“Go ahead. What are the words? I suppose this is one of those association tests.”
“Not exactly,” Tragg said. “The association test calls for a lot of psychological stuff, holding a stop watch on a person to see how long it takes to answer. I’ll be frank with you, Miss Faulkner. It’s a trick which is sometimes used by psychologists. A lot of innocent words are given until the average reaction time of the witness is noted. Then words are given which might bring up a guilty train of thought. The person naturally wants to guard against betraying himself, and therefore his reaction time is a little longer on all of these words.”
“I see,” she said, “but I’m fairly well informed. You don’t need to explain elemental psychology to me.”
“That makes it easier then for me to explain exactly what I do want. I want you to try and give me one word which is called to your mind by the words I will give you.”
“Very well.”
“And I want you to give me that word without any delay whatever. In other words, the minute I speak of a word, you come back fast with the word which you think of.”
“Very well, go ahead.”
“Home,” Tragg said.
“Run,” she snapped back at him with a slight glitter of malicious triumph in her eyes.
“Flower.”
“Customer,” she snapped, before the word was hardly out of his mouth.
“Orchid.”
“Corsage.”
“Faster,” he said. “Come back at me just as fast as you can.”
“Aren’t I doing all right?”
“Just a little faster if you can.”
“Go ahead.”
“Coupe.”
“Sister,” she said, her voice slightly higher pitched.
“Gun.”
“Accident,” she almost shouted triumphantly.
Tragg’s expression didn’t change. “Stock.”
“Transfer.”
“Competitor.”
“Peavis.”
“Police.”
“You.”
“Paraffin.”
“Test.”
Lieutenant Tragg settled back in his chair and smiled at her. “I told you I’d trap you, Miss Faulkner,” he said quietly. “Now hadn’t you better sit down and tell me about it.”
“I... I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, yes, you do. You know of the paraffin test for determining whether a person has fired a gun. Mr. Mason told you about it. It’s fresh in your mind. You were so anxious to give the right answer when I came to the gun part, which you were smart enough to know I was leading up to, that you let down the bars of your vigilance just a bit after that, and walked into the trap on that paraffin test.”
“Does a person have to be guilty of murder to know about that?”
“No,” he said, “but when a woman has a gun in her possession which has probably been used to commit a murder, when I find a noted criminal attorney closeted with her at two-thirty in the morning, and when, as soon as a police car drives up, she discharges the revolver, and when the first word which comes into her mind in connection with paraffin is the word ‘test,’ then I have pretty good reason to believe that the lawyer told her about the paraffin test, that she is a woman of intelligence, and realizes that the only way to protect herself is not by trying to get the powder out of her hand, but by having a perfectly legitimate excuse for showing powder in her hand.
“You see, Miss Faulkner, if a policeman were asked what word he associated with paraffin, he might very well say ‘test,’ but for a woman who is in the business of selling flowers to the public to associate paraffin with the nitrate test — well, it’s just a little too much.”
“So you think I killed him?”
“I don’t know. I do know that that gun which you tried to conceal under the davenport has recently been fired twice. I know that the second shot was fired deliberately. I know that Perry Mason was here talking to you shortly before that shot was fired. It’s a fair inference that he warned you that if you had fired that revolver recently, the paraffin test would furnish proof. And you were sufficiently ingenious to know what to do.
“I thought for a moment that it might have been Mason’s idea, but the adroit manner in which you anticipated the simple traps which I set for you, and the swiftness of your mental reactions convinces me that you’re a very clever woman, Miss Faulkner, and that you thought it up yourself.”
She said, “I’m not going to make any statement. You’re being unfair. I suppose now you’ll arrest me.”
“No. I’m not making an arrest right now. First, I’m going to check this gun for fingerprints. I’m going to compare a test bullet fired through the barrel of this gun with the fatal bullet which killed Lynk.”
“You’ve already said it’s the murder weapon.”
“I think it is. You see, a ballistics expert found the bullet which had gone completely through Lynk’s body. He was able to tell me the caliber, the make of shell, and certain other facts about the ammunition. I find this weapon in your possession loaded with exactly that same ammunition. Now, perhaps you’ll tell me where you got the gun.”
“At a sporting goods store.”
“No. I mean tonight.”
“Why — why couldn’t I have had it with me all the time?”
Tragg said, “Miss Faulkner, you’re trying to protect someone, either someone you love, or someone to whom you feel obligated.”
“Why not myself?”
“Or,” he admitted, “perhaps yourself.”
“Well?” she asked.
Abruptly, Lieutenant Tragg got to his feet. “You’re a very intelligent and a very clever woman. I’ve got just about all the information out of you I’m going to get, at least for the present. I’m taking that gun with me. By the time I talk to you again, I’ll know a lot more than I do now.”