The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar

Chapter 20

1

The courtroom was packed with spectators and news media as it always was when Perry Mason was the defense attorney. He led Della Street into the courtroom with his hand on her elbow. It took the attorney and his secretary a few moments to push their way through the crowd of reporters shouting questions at him. Mason just smiled and repeatedly told them "No comment."

As he approached the defense table, young Tommy Brace walked up to him. "Mister Mason, you haven't kept me informed about my father's case. What is going on? Have you found out anything that will help him?"

The lawyer patted the boy on the shoulder. "Everything is going to be all right. Don't you worry. We are doing just fine." Not giving the young man any further chance to question him, Mason walked around him through the gate that separated the spectators from the lawyers, defendant, and the judge. He was greeted by Jack Brace.

Brace displayed a look of concern, but said nothing to the attorney. He simply shook his hand and sat down. Della took her place on the other side of Brace. Mason opened his briefcase and sat down. He pulled out several sheets of paper and spread them across the table. He was feeling better than he had been about the case. With a little luck, he was hoping to end everything today. Mason believed he knew who murdered Steven Edwards.

Judge Morgan Archibald entered the courtroom. The bailiff called out, "All rise." As was customary, everyone in the room stood up. Archibald took his place behind the bench.

"Be seated. Mister Mason are you ready to present the defense?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Mason responded.

"Then call your first witness."

"The defense calls Roy Flynn to the stand."

Flynn stood up and headed for the front of the courtroom. As he passed Mason, he gave him a look of disdain. He couldn't believe he was being forced to testify. Worried what Mason might do, he took his place in the witness stand. After being sworn in, he waited for the onslaught from the esteemed attorney.

Mason stood behind the defense table and glanced through his paperwork. He didn't need to; he just wanted to keep Flynn in suspense, with the idea of making him more nervous than he already was. Finally, he looked up at him. "Mister Flynn, you deal in stolen art, is that correct? You buy them from Steven Edwards, isn't that correct as well?"

"No! I certainly do not, and I do not know Steve Edwards either."

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Your Honor, Mister Mason is well known for accusing just about everyone he puts on the stand. Mister Flynn is not on trial here."

Archibald looked over at Mason. "Counselor, do you have a reason to believe this witness deals in stolen art?"

"Yes, I certainly do," Mason answered.

"Then if that was an objection, Mister Burger, I am going to allow Mister Mason to continue. However, I caution the defense attorney I will strike the testimony if I feel it is not relevant. You may proceed, Mister Mason."

Mason nodded at Della. She got up and left the courtroom. The lawyer walked back to the witness. "Would you like to change your testimony regarding the stolen art?"

"Absolutely not!"

"This is your last chance to head off a perjury charge," Mason warned. Flynn said nothing. He just sat there staring at Mason.

Della Street walked back into the room with a painting in her hands. Mason watched Flynn closely. His face paled when he saw what Della was carrying. "Last night, Mister Flynn, I got a court order to search your private vault, which by the way was not locked." Della stepped forward and handed the painting to Mason. He turned it around to face the witness. "Does this painting look familiar?"

"Now just a minute . . . it is not as it seems!" Flynn stood up in the witness stand.

"Mister Flynn, sit down," Judge Archibald insisted. Flynn slowly sat back down. His eyes were burning with hatred for the famous attorney.

"You had no right. I am not on trial here."

"No, you are not, but perhaps you should be. Now, tell the court how you acquired this painting. Just for the record, this painting was stolen from the Museum of Arts and History in New York City."

"I had no way of knowing that when I purchased it."

"Purchased it from whom?"

"Jack Brace, but he assured me it was acquired legally."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "When exactly did you receive it from the defendant?"

"Well . . . I . . . am not . . . certain," he stammered.

"Well, I am." Mason went back to the table. He brought back with him a police report. "This report from the New York Police Department states the painting was stolen from the museum last November, the 29th to be exact. Do you know where Jack Brace was at that time?"

Hamilton Burger stood up. "Objection! Is the witness really supposed to know where the defendant was at any given time?"

"The objection is sustained."

"All right, instead of asking you, I'll tell you. He was in England taking a vacation with his family," Mason informed him.

"Your Honor, what has the defendant's vacation have to do with this case?" Burger complained.

"I'll tell you what it has to do with it. Jack Brace did not steal that painting. Nor did the witness get it from him."

"Overruled."

"Where did you get the painting?" Mason demanded.

"I told you where I got it."

"That isn't possible. You received it from Steve Edwards, did you not?"

Flynn looked down. Damn Mason! "All right, I got it from Steve Edwards! So what."

"So what?" Mason said with feigned surprise. "You said earlier you didn't know him." The attorney walked back to the defense table and brought back a paper. "Do you recognize that note?" He handed it to Flynn.

Flynn's face again turned pale. "I received it. I don't know who it is from."

"We had it checked by a handwriting expert." Mason turned around, and a man stood up among the spectators. "Mister Hank Munson will testify the handwriting belongs to Steven Edwards."

"Okay, okay. I know Edwards wrote it."

"Read it to the court." When Flynn didn't respond, Mason raised his voice, "Read it!"

"Flynn, this painting wasn't easy to get, and I did it without the help of Jack Brace. You will retain my services, or I will as promised, turn over my journal to the police showing your purchases of stolen art and artifacts." Flynn sat in the witness stand with a look of defeat.

"So you were being blackmailed, were you not?" Mason thundered.

"All right, he was blackmailing me!" he shouted.

"Where were you on the night of the murder?" Mason asked.

"Home with my wife."

Mason was waiting for this answer. Paul had questioned her early in the morning. She was very upset to find out what her husband was up to. She had filed for divorce, and learning he was hiding money from her, ill gotten or not, made her furious. "No, Mister Flynn, she made it clear you didn't come home all night. She said she had filed for divorce and you were not living at the house most of the time. I can call her to the stand if necessary."

"I don't remember where I was!" he snapped.

"So you were being blackmailed by the deceased; meaning you had motive and opportunity to kill him, and you have no alibi," Mason said.

"I didn't kill him."

"So you say," Mason said with a smile. "Did you use the services of William Adair?"

"I have on occasion."

Mason wanted that question answered as it would be important later on. "I have no more questions of this witness.

Burger decided not to stir up the hornet's nest Mason had found. He still had Brace's fingerprints on the murder weapon. "No questions."

"You may step down. I suggest the district attorney pursue perjury charges against this witness. Mister Mason, call your next witness."

"Defense calls Mark Rogers to the stand." After Rogers was sworn in, Mason picked up the journal of Steve Edwards and walked over to the stand. "Mister Rogers, you knew Steven Edwards, did you not?"

After seeing what Mason did to Roy Flynn, he knew it would be stupid to deny it. He was in enough trouble as it was. There wasn't any sense in adding perjury to the charges he would face. "Yes, I knew him. He and Jack Brace stole paintings and artifacts, which I bought and then sold for a profit."

Mason was a bit surprised he would openly admit it, but then he saw what happened to Roy Flynn. "Did Edwards approach you about continuing after Jack Brace quit?"

"He did."

"And you told him no."

"I did at first, then he had that journal. He threatened to take it to the police. So I had no choice but to agree."

"Where were you on the night of the murder?"

Rogers smiled. "Sorry, Mason, but you can't hang the murder on me. I wasn't even in Los Angeles. I was in Phoenix, Arizona at a real estate convention. You will have to look for your murderer elsewhere."

Mason smiled back at him. He walked back to the defense table. Della handed him a paper. Upon returning to the witness, Mason said, "According to the airlines you returned to Los Angeles and arrived at 4:00pm. That was plenty of time for you to commit the murder."

"Well I didn't, and you can't prove I did," he said smugly.

"Oh, Your Honor, Is Mister Mason going to accuse all of his witnesses of murder?" Burger complained.

Archibald looked over at Burger. The district attorney's face was extremely red. Burger tried many cases in his courtroom, but only one defense attorney caused this reaction. Archibald wouldn't be surprise if Burger was on blood pressure medicine solely because of Perry Mason. "I don't believe that is what Mister Mason is doing, Mister Burger. He has the right . . . no, he has the obligation to show that his client is not the only person with the motive and opportunity to have committed the murder, if that is the case. He would not be doing his job otherwise. "You may continue Mister Mason." Burger sat down heavily in disgust.

"Where were you at the time of the murder?" Mason demanded.

"I don't remember," he snarled back at the attorney.

"You don't remember?"

"That's what I said. It doesn't matter where I was, Mason."

"It does if you were at the residence where Steven Edwards was murdered."

"Well, I wasn't," Rogers growled.

"No?"

"No."

Mason smiled. "No more questions."

The judge turned to Burger. "You may cross-examine."

Burger stood up. "I don't see any reason to cross-examine this witness. Mason is just using his usual razzle dazzle to muddy the waters."

"That will be enough, Mister Burger. I will not tolerate personalities in my courtroom," Archibald admonished.

Burger bowed. "My apologies, Your Honor."

"Don't apologize to me. Mister Mason is the injured party here."

The district attorney turned to Mason and gave him a slight bow, but no apology was forthcoming.

"Call your next witness," Archibald said with a frown directed at Hamilton Burger.

"The Defense calls City Councilman Donald Fredendall to the stand," Mason announced.

As Fredendall passed Mason he said only loud enough for the lawyer to hear. "You will pay for this Mason. I intend to make your life miserable from now on." Mason only smiled, waiting for the councilman to be sworn in.

The door to the courtroom opened, and Paul Drake entered. He headed straight for Perry Mason. When the attorney noticed him, he turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, may I have a moment?"

"Go ahead Mister Mason, but no more than a moment."

"Perry, have I got news for you!"

"I could use it. So far, I have not been able to break these witnesses down on the stand. I can prove they had motive and opportunity, but they have been shrewd. They know I can't put them at the scene of the murder. Without doing that, I will never get a confession out of them."

"You don't need to. Take a look at this," Drake said excitedly.

"The money trail," Mason said. "This is what happened to the money that was taken out the day after Edward's was murdered. But how? He was the only one on the account."

"Apparently, when we checked on Kirsten Edwards' account, the money wasn't there. She got a very large deposit into that account later. The house, boat, car, and credit cards were all paid off. The remaining money was transferred to another account," Paul reported.

"Into an account that was joint with William Adair," Mason said as he continued to read the report.

"That's right, Perry. It fits with all the information we have."

"Mister Mason, your moment is up," Judge Archibald said impatiently.

"Yes, it is. Thank you, Your Honor."

Realizing, Fredendall's testimony was even more important since Mason was now certain who had murdered Steven Edwards, there was only one way to question him. Mason would make sure the councilman was exposed as dirty. "Councilman Fredendall, does the name William Adair mean anything to you?"

"Should it?"

Mason smiled. "If you don't mind, I'll ask the questions. You just answer them. "Does his name mean anything to you?"

Fredendall hesitated only long enough for Mason to determine he had hit a nerve. "I believe I have consulted him on occasion."

"On what?" Mason asked.

Burger was on his feet. "Objection! Of all people, Mister Mason knows that conversations are confidential between client and attorney."

"Sustained."

"All right. We will go at it from another way," Mason said. "Did you ever do business with him outside of lawyer-client business?"

"Objection!" Burger shouted.

"Wait a minute, Mister Burger. Mister Mason's question doesn't violate the attorney-client privilege. The witness will answer the question."

"No, I have not."

Mason turned to Archibald. "At this time, Your Honor, I have a request."

"Yes, what is it?"

"I have reason to believe the police picked up a journal of William Adair's transactions with a number of people. I believe the journal will show that the Councilman has just perjured himself."

Tragg bent over and whispered to Burger, "I had a feeling Mason had been inside that cottage. We just can't prove it."

"Mister Burger, is what Mister Mason said true?"

Burger stood up. "Well, yes, Your Honor. The police did find a journal in his cottage. However, it is evidence the prosecution intends to use, but it will be presented at a later date."

Mason once again addressed the bench. "That is unacceptable to the defense. The district attorney doesn't have the right to withhold evidence that can help the defendant."

"How do you know it will help the defendant?" Burger snapped.

"Will the evidence help the defendant, Mister Burger?" Archibald asked.

"Well . . . it . . ."

"I think the court would like to see this journal now," the judge said.

Frustrated, Burger continued to argue. "If the prosecution is forced to present this evidence before we choose to, I think Mister Mason should enlighten the court as to why he believes it will help his client."

"A reasonable request. Mister Mason?"

Mason thought fast on his feet. "Your Honor, we've already had one witness admit to being involved in illegal trafficking of stolen painting and artifacts, and I can prove the councilman was as well. It is the contention of the defense that they both, as well as another city councilman, consulted William Adair in hopes he could help them hide their illegal acts. All of these men were in this together. That journal is the reason Mister Adair was murdered, and it has a direct connection to the murder of Steven Edwards." Perry hoped that was enough for the judge. He didn't want to explain how he knew about the journal.

As Hamilton Burger stood up, Judge Archibald put up his hand. "I feel Mister Mason has given a reasonable explanation as to why the journal should be presented at this time."

"But, Mister Mason has not explained how . . ."

Archibald interrupted him. "The court orders the journal be provided at this time."

"Your Honor, all I am asking is that Mister Mason explain how he knew . . ."

"That is enough! I have ruled on the journal. Produce the journal at once." The tone of Archibald's voice told Burger he couldn't argue any further without bringing the judge's wrath down on him. He sat down in his seat. It was so obvious he was fuming that Tragg leaned over to him.

"Let it go, Hamilton. No matter what razzle dazzle Mason puts on, it doesn't change the fact that Brace's fingerprints were on the tire iron and the other people can't be placed at the scene of the murder."

"The judge could contend it would not be unusual for his prints to be on a tire iron he owns, and as far as the others not being placed at the scene, well, that could change."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Tragg questioned.

"The side of the law. I don't want this murderer walking out of the courtroom because of Perry's dog and pony show," Burgers said, displaying anger. Tragg decided not to say anymore. It was better he let Burger cool off.

"Well, Mister Burger?" the judge said when Burger made no attempt to follow his ruling.

"It will take a few minutes to have it brought in."

"See that it is only a few. In the meantime, Mister Mason, are you prepared to continue until it arrives?"

"I am."

"Then proceed."

Perry Mason walked over to the stand. "Would you like to retract your testimony regarding doing business with William Adair outside of the attorney-client privilege?"

Fredendall didn't answer immediately. He was trying to determine in his mind if Mason was bluffing. He found it hard to believe Adair would be stupid enough to keep a journal of the business he had done with all of them. He would be implicated the same as they would. Mason was known for bluffing witnesses into confessing things they wouldn't ordinarily confess. The problem was the attorney was projecting a stone-cold poker face and Fredendall simply couldn't read him.

Mason wanted to blame Edwards' murder on him to get his client off. Fredendall was not about to allow him to bluff him into making any admissions. He wasn't retracting anything. The damn lawyer was bluffing; he was sure of it. "No, I don't want to change my testimony. Nor do I appreciate you making accusations. You will hear from my lawyer, Mason."

"I look forward to it," Mason said with a smile.

Burger's assistant came into the room. He was carrying the journal Mason wanted on the record. The man walked over to the prosecution table and handed it to Hamilton. Burger turned his attention to the judge, but not before giving Mason a disapproving look.

"Your Honor, we have the journal in the courtroom at this time."

"Bring it to the bench, Mister Burger," he ordered. Burger stood up and walked over to the bench. He reached up and set it down. "We will take a 45 minute recess so I may review the journal. I will then rule whether Mister Mason's client has been deprived of evidence that is to his benefit." Archibald got up, and with the journal in hand, left the courtroom.

As the bailiff took Jack Brace away, Perry turned around. "Paul, I want subpoenas issued to these two people, and I want them in court when it resumes." He handed Drake a piece of paper with names and addresses of where to find them.

"That's not going to be easy, Perry," Paul said.

"It will be easier if you get going," Mason said with a grin. Drake took off on the run.

"Perry, what witnesses?" Della asked him.

"I know who killed Edwards and Adair. The journal will show it is beneficial to my client, but I needed to buy time to get the subpoenas. I need those witnesses in the courtroom. I'll explain later. I have to see the judge to get William Adair's records subpoenaed as well. Go across the street and get yourself something to eat. I'll be back shortly." Mason left his briefcase with Della and left the courtroom in a hurry.

2

"Exactly, what records of William Adair are you seeking, Perry?" Archibald asked.

"I want his financial records, as well as the records of his legal business with Fredendall, Flynn Mozart. I also want a trace on where the money came from, as well as where it went after Adair received it."

Archibald frown. "You know very well I can't allow the legal records to be released. That is private between attorney and clients. However, with what I have read in that journal, you are not going to need them. There is plenty in there you can use. You can have the financial records and the trace on the money."

Mason knew the legal records would never be approved. He figured there wasn't any way Archibald would give them to him. Actually, he really didn't want the judge to give out any of the legal records. It would set a bad precedence for all attorneys to protect their clients as well as themselves. He wanted to ask for more than he actually wanted, figuring by denying him the legal records, he would be inclined to approve the rest, and he had been right.

Mason would soon have everything he needed to clear Jack Brace and put the real murderers behind bars where they belonged.