"But," Mason said, "you haven't proved that the shooting incapacitated him from driving the car. You haven't proved how many times he was shot, whether any of the shots were in a fatal place, or whether they were merely flesh wounds. The gun was a small caliber gun and it's very possible the bullets followed around under the skin without penetrating any vital organs. Moreover, if this man met his death by drowning, unless the defendant, or some accomplice drove that car off the end of the pier, the defendant certainly can't be held responsible for a death by drowning. The minute you concede there's even a possibility Brownley recovered consciousness and drove that automobile into the bay, you have made a stronger argument against your case than anything I can say. You, yourself, tacitly admit that you aren't convinced by the evidence you yourself have produced!"
Shoemaker's face flushed. "This," he roared, "is an attempt to thwart justice by a technicality which…"
"Just a moment," Judge Knox interrupted, "the Court has been giving this matter some thought, ever since it noticed the remarkably ingenious cross-examination of the witness Bixler. There's some question here as to the means of death. There's even some question as to whether death itself has been proved. It is reasonable to suppose that Renwold Brownley was in the automobile when it went over the edge of the wharf, but there's not evidence indicating that such was the case. I am fully aware that the degree of proof required to bind the defendant over is not the same as that required in a Superior Court upon a trial of the issues on the merits; but I am also aware that if I should dismiss this case at the present time, the defendant will not have been in jeopardy and therefore can again be rearrested when the body of Renwold Brownley is discovered. I think you will admit, Mr. Deputy District Attorney, that you would hardly care to prosecute this defendant in a Superior Court upon a charge of murder, until after the body itself has been discovered."
"That's not the point," Shoemaker said, very evidently keeping his temper by an effort. "This is only a preliminary. We want to get the defendant bound over. We want to get the evidence in such shape we know where we stand. And there are other reasons why we are particularly anxious at this time to get the evidence of these witnesses before the public… that is, before the Court."
Mason shrugged and said, "Counsel's tongue slipped. He meant before the public."
Knox frowned and said, "That will do, Mr. Mason. You will refrain from making any such comments and confine yourself to the question under discussion." He glowered at Mason for a moment, then turned hastily away to keep from smiling.
Shoemaker, so indignant as to be speechless for the moment, stood groping for words with which to clothe an effective argument.
"I'm going to adjourn this case until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock," Judge Knox said. "At that time, Counsel can argue the question; but I am very much inclined to hold that at the present time the corpus delicti has not been shown, and while perhaps technically I should confine myself only to a question of whether a crime has been committed, I'm inclined to take a broader view of the situation, particularly because a dismissal of the case at this time would not be a bar to a subsequent prosecution."
"But," Shoemaker protested, "would your Honor claim that we haven't shown a sufficient case of assault with a deadly weapon?"
Judge Knox smiled and said, "And would the district attorney's office be willing to have the Court bind over the defendant only on a charge of assault with a deadly weapon with intent to commit murder and release her from a murder charge?"
"No!" Shoemaker shouted. "We're going to prosecute her for murder. That's what she's guilty of…" As he realized the full effect of his statement, he let his voice drop into a low tone, hesitated for a moment, then sat down uncertainly.
Judge Knox let his smile become a grin. "I think, Counselor," he said, "your own argument illustrates better than anything I could say the fallacy of your present contention. Court will take a recess until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. The defendant is, of course, remanded to the custody of the sheriff."
Perry Mason glanced over his shoulder at Paul Drake. The detective had produced a handkerchief from his pocket and was mopping his forehead. Mason himself heaved a sigh of relief as Judge Knox arose from the bench. Turning to Julia Branner, Mason said, "Julia, won't you please tell me…"
Her lips clamped in a thin line. She shook her head, arose from the chair and nodded to the deputy sheriff who was waiting to take her back to the jail.
Chapter 16
Della Street twisted her fingers around Perry Mason's right hand, where it rested on the steering wheel and said, "Chief, isn't there something I can do? Couldn't I go talk with the district attorney?"
He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Couldn't I take the rap? Couldn't I say that I took the stuff, that I took the key?"
"No," he said, "Burger's after me. He doesn't think he's holding any malice, but, for a long time now, he's been predicting that I'd come a cropper. Naturally, he's prejudiced in favor of making his predictions come true."
"Chief," she said, snuggling close to him, "you know I'd do anything, anything."
Mason kept his left hand on the steering wheel, slipped his right hand about her shoulders, squeezed her affectionately. "Good kid, Della," he said, "but there's nothing you can do. We've just got to take it."
"Listen, Chief," she said, "how was that crime committed? It doesn't sound reasonable that the district attorney's theory is right."
"Julia might have done the shooting in a wild blaze of temper," he admitted, "but in that case there'd have been some sort of an argument first. She didn't lure him down there to kill him, that's a cinch. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left so broad a back trail."
"Then why did she lure him down there?"
"That's something I can't tell you," he said, "but it has something to do with our stuttering bishop, our disappearing Janice Seaton, and perhaps a few others."
"And she didn't intend to kill him when she left the apartment?"
"Not one chance in a hundred," Mason said.
"But didn't you tell me that when you went there in the morning Stella Kenwood had been sitting up all night, that her attitude showed she knew Julia Branner had gone out to do something that was going to get her into trouble if she was caught?"
Mason suddenly slammed the brakes on the car, skidded into the curb, kicked out the gear lever and stared at Della Street with wide eyes. "Now," he said, "you're talking."
"What do you mean, Chief? You mean…?"
"Wait a minute," he said, "I want to think." He sat there in the car, the motor running, traffic streaming past. Once or twice he nodded his head. Then he said, "Della, it's so damned wild that it doesn't sound logical, but it's absolutely the only thing which will explain the facts in this case, and, when you stop to think of it, it's so absolutely plain and open that the great wonder is we didn't realize it before. Have you got your shorthand notebook with you?"
She opened her purse and nodded her head.
Mason slammed home the gear shift lever, kicked in the clutch. "Come on," he said, "we'll go places." He swung the car out from the curb and made time to the frame apartment house on Beechwood, rang Stella Kenwood's bell, received an answering buzz which released the catch on the door. "Come on, Della," he said, "we'll go up. When we get in that room, pull out your notebook and take down everything that's said and don't lose your head, no matter what happens."
They climbed the stairs and walked down the corridor to Stella Kenwood's apartment. Mason knocked on the door. Stella Kenwood opened it, peered at him with a white, anxious face, blinked her faded, watery eyes, and said in a thin, expressionless voice, "Oh, it's you."