Judge Grosbeck nodded.
Labley jumped to his feet. “Why, Your Honor, I don’t understand such to be the law.”
“It is,” Judge Grosbeck said, with calm finality.
“But Peavis didn’t know anything about what Lynk was doing.”
“If Lynk was his agent,” Judge Grosbeck said, “it was his duty to notify Peavis of everything he was doing. His actions were for the benefit of Peavis. Peavis can’t accept the benefit of those actions and refuse to assume the responsibility.”
Labley sat down slowly, cautiously, as though after what had happened, it would not have surprised him if the chair had suddenly been jerked out from under him.
Mason said, “I’ll put it this way, Miss Dilmeyer. You were told that Mr. Lawley owned some stock in a company which Peavis wanted. You were, therefore, asked to be nice to Lawley and...”
“No one told me any such thing,” she said.
Mason raised his eyebrows. “They didn’t?”
“No.”
“How did you get acquainted with Mr. Lawley?”
“I was told to cultivate his acquaintance.”
“By whom?”
“By Mr. Coll,” she said.
Labley smiled triumphantly.
“And Peavis had nothing whatever to do with Mr. Coll. Coll was not his agent,” Labley said to the judge.
“That,” Judge Grosbeck remarked, “remains to be determined.”
“Now then,” Mason said, “on the night that Mr. Lynk was murdered, did you hear any conversation between Lynk and Coll about the stock?”
“Not that night. That afternoon.”
“What did Mr. Lynk say?”
“Lynk said that he had the stock in his possession, that if Peavis wanted to get hold of it, he’d have to meet him before midnight with cold, hard cash, that Lynk didn’t want any checks. He wanted cash.”
“You heard that conversation?” Mason asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did it take place?”
“In the Golden Horn.”
“That’s a nightclub?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where in the Golden Horn did the conversation take place?”
“In an upstairs — well, in an upstairs suite of rooms.”
“And after you had heard that conversation,” Mason said, “an attempt was made on your life, is that right?”
“I object,” Labley shouted. “That is an attempt to prejudice the court. It is a plain intimation that my client has resorted to an attempted murder in order to enable him to buy a few shares of stock in a corporation.”
Judge Grosbeck looked at Mason with cold, judicial impassivity. “Counselor,” he asked ominously, “is it your contention that there is a connection between the two events?”
Mason said, “If the court will bear with me, I think that perhaps we will uncover some rather valuable evidence. The question relates only to a point of time. Your Honor is far too experienced to be influenced by insinuations which are not substantiated. It is not as though a jury were trying the case.”
Judge Grosbeck nodded. “Proceed,” he said.
“Answer the question,” Mason ordered Esther Dilmeyer.
She said, “Yes,” in a very low voice.
“Now,” Mason said, “your manner of eating candy is rather unusual, isn’t it? You eat piece after piece, very rapidly?”
“Well, perhaps, yes.”
“How long have you had that habit?”
“Ever since I was nineteen when I had a job in a candy factory,” she said with a smile.
“You learned to eat candy in that way while employed there?”
“Yes,” she said, and laughed lightly. “The girls weren’t supposed to eat any of the candy on which they were working, but — well, I didn’t like the boss and thought I was getting even with him.”
“I see,” Mason said with a smile. “Now, someone must have known of your propensities for eating one piece of candy right after another.”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
“You’ll have to speak up,” Judge Grosbeck said, “so the court reporter can take down your answer.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t think anyone — oh, perhaps some of my intimate friends... Irma Radine for one.”
“And is Mr. Lawley an intimate friend?”
“No,” she said quickly.
“Mr. Coll?”
“No,” and her tone was sharply defiant.
“Mr. Magard, perhaps?”
She said, “Mr. Magard is an employer rather than a friend.”
“But he knows about the way you eat candy?”
She hesitated, disliking to give an affirmative answer which would make a plain implication. Judge Grosbeck was leaning across the big mahogany desk now, looking down at the witness, studying her facial expressions. Frank Labley, plainly puzzled, apprehensive of the manner in which the hearing was developing, quite apparently afraid to try to stop the proceedings by objections, sat forward on the edge of his chair, turning his head from the witness to Mason, then back to the witness.
“Answer the question,” Mason said.
“Mr. Magard knew that I had worked in a candy factory.”
“How did he know that?”
“He hired me.”
“That is, you were working in the candy factory when Mr. Magard hired you to work in the Golden Horn?”
“No. He looked up my record.”
“And you don’t consider Mr. Coll an intimate friend?”
“No.”
“He was at one time?”
“Well... well, it depends on what you call a friend.”
“And how about Mr. Lawley? He was at one time?”
“Well, not — oh, I guess so.”
“Did Mr. Peavis ever give you candy?”
“Yes. Several times. He’s nice.”
“And saw you eating it?”
“Yes.”
Mason said, “I think, Your Honor, that now I will ask for a continuance until tomorrow morning. I am, of course, aware that it is a matter addressed to the discretion of the court and...”
“No objection on our part,” Labley interposed hurriedly.
“Very well,” Judge Grosbeck ruled. “Pursuant to stipulation of counsel the matter is continued until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
For a moment it seemed that Judge Grosbeck wanted to ask a question of Esther Dilmeyer, then he quite evidently changed his mind and decided to continue in his rôle of judicial impassivity. He rose and walked into his chambers.
Magard walked down the aisle of the courtroom from the seat where he had been an interested spectator. He went directly to Mason. His manner was truculent. “What,” he asked, “is the idea of trying to drag me into that candy business?”
“I didn’t,” Mason said, standing up at the counsel table, pushing documents down into his brief case. “I merely asked questions. The witness answered them.”
“Well, you asked them in a funny way.”
Mason smiled. “It’s a habit I have, particularly when I’m dealing with people who try to dictate to me.”