06x14 - The Case of the Bluffing Blast

[bunniefuu]

Excuse me. I'm looking for the office
of a newspaper-- the Ladera Ledger?

Could you take me there, please?

You don't need me, ma'am.
It's just up the street. Can't miss it.

Ladera Farms is your biggest advertiser.
Does that bother you?

No!
You print a story in this rag of yours

that cuts milk sales twenty percent
in one day-- twenty percent!

You trying to cut our throat
or yours, Elliot?

Read the story, Floyd.

It says the stench of ammonia gas
for blocks around the Ladera Farms plant

is so strong it's to be regarded
as a public hazard.

I warn you, Elliot.

I'll have my attorney
take you to court on this.

Make much more sense

if you had a good mechanic
go over that machinery of yours

and stop polluting the air
with leaking ammonia fumes.

I'm not gonna take this from you!

- [door opens]
- [Linda] Excuse me.

I'm Clay Elliot. May I help you?

I'm looking for the man who owns
this newspaper-- Mr. Addison Blake.

Addison Blake?

I'm Linda Blake.
Addison Blake is my father.

That's impossible.
Addison Blake never had a daughter.

I beg your pardon?

He never had any children.
In fact, he was never married.

I don't understand.

Where is my father?

Addison Blake is dead.

If you were his daughter, you wouldn't
have to ask that question, would you?

You'd know that Addison Blake
was k*lled seven years ago.

Mr. Morescu.

Mr. Morescu.

Hi, Clay.

I gave Miss Blake room number .
I'll ring her for you.

Just a minute.

You were in Ladera seven years ago
when Miss Blake's father d*ed, weren't you?

Addison Blake didn't just die, son.
He was m*rder*d.

So I've heard more times
than I can remember.

But nobody was ever arrested and tried.
What do you know about it?

What everybody knows, I guess.
At any rate, what everybody believes.

That Charles Lambert,
the owner of the dairy, k*lled him?

Yup.

Charlie was the town's sort of unofficial
k*ller of the year, you might say.

You weren't here then.
Didn't know what he was like.

Boozing, bedeviling everybody.

Gotta give him credit, though.

He's laid off the bottle.
Done a real good job with Ladera Farms.

Why wasn't he arrested and tried?

Seems somebody up
and gave the kid an alibi--

man that ran the dairy.

Floyd Grant?

Nobody else but.
I'll ring her for you.

Funny.

I know Miss Blake's in her room.

She should answer.

There's nothing wrong, is there?

I don't know.

C'mon, let's see.

[knocking]

[kettle hissing]

Gas! Let get her out of there!

Turn it off.

I started to boil some water for tea,

then, well, I suddenly felt very tired.

It's been a long trip, quite exhausting.

I thought I'd lie down first and rest.

And you're sure you shut off the gas jet?

Yes, I turned it off.

And that window was open.
I'm sure of that.

Not much doubt about it,
is there, Sheriff Ramsey?

Someone tried to k*ll Miss Blake.

Chances are she just plain forgot
to open the window and shut off that gas.

The water had boiled over
and put out the flame,

and the gas was escaping while she slept.

Just like that?

It happens every day.

Murders and suicides sell papers,

but accidents, mostly, are what k*ll people.

Are you sure it was an accident?

Couldn't it just be
that the window was open

and someone reached in,
turned on the gas without lighting it,

closed the window again,
all from the outside.

Clay, I'm too old to be sure of anything.

I'm just adding two and two to get four.

Now ask yourself: who in town
knew Miss Blake arrived a few hours ago--

who, that is, with a reason to k*ll her?

There was somebody.

The only person I spoke to -
besides you, Mr. Elliot,

was that man in your office.

The man that seven years ago

supposedly gave
Addison Blake's m*rder*r an alibi!

What?

Mr. Floyd Grant.

Two weeks ago, I sent you orders
to fix the equipment,

to get rid of that ammonia leak!

- Mr. Grant, I--
- You what?

You ordered a new driveshaft
for the standby compressor?

Oh, sure, I have the bill right here.

Paid for and receipted by you,
Joe Italiano,

engineer for Ladera Farms.

But it was never delivered, Joe.

You signed that phoney voucher?

But I can explain. I--

Explain how you stole the money
for the driveshaft, Joe, or why you stole it?

The standby machine
is on only during the day.

I worked every night for a week
repacking this old driveshaft.

It should have stopped the leak.

But it didn't.

Elliot's newspaper's calling
for somebody's head.

Your head is on the block, Joe.

I'll pay back the money for the driveshaft,
every penny of it.

How?

Your salary's been attached
for back payment of alimony.

How do you intend to pay
the money back, Joe?

From jail?

The back pressure relief valve
on the standby compressor--

Joe, what would happen
if the valve was screwed down tight?

When the pressure hit ,
the whole head would blow.

Releasing liquid ammonia under pressure

in the same room
with an operating air compressor.

What then, Joe?

It would blow the engine room sky high.

An accidental expl*si*n.

Of course, with the insurance money,
it wouldn't cost us a cent.

We could rebuild the engine room -

and nobody would ever know
about that driveshaft, Joe.

Nobody.

No... no.

The clock, the a*t*matic timer--

if it were set, say, not for tomorrow morning
as it usual is, but for tonight!

p.m. sharp, Joe.

The place would be empty.
Nobody would be hurt.

Even those records would be destroyed.

Oh, Mr. Grant, I--

[phone rings]

Engine Room. Floyd Grant.

Oh, yes, Mrs. Lambert.

In your son's office, huh?

Uh-huh.

Yes, I'm talking to him right now.

Yes, Mrs. Lambert. I'll be right there.

Joe, a thousand dollars.

Out of the state
and away from your troubles.

p.m. sharp.

Mr. President, Mr. President's young wife,
and Mr. President's mother.

What is this, Sylvia,
a meeting of the Board of Directors?

This article by Clay Elliot. You've read it?

You know I've read it,
just as you know I've taken care of it.

Don't waste my time.
Why'd you call me up here?

Last night at the motel-- that Blake girl.

What happened to her?
It was an accident, wasn't it, Floyd?

Why don't you ask your son?

Or are you afraid to bother him,

bother him to the point
where he'll go back on the bottle again?

Don't push, Floyd, don't push!

There's a limit.

You're so right, Sylvia, there is a limit--

a statute of limitations on perjury
but not on m*rder!

You're a disgusting monster.

Not quite to the manor born, Donella.

Not like your husband, Charlie boy,
isn't that so?

You know, it's a shame
he isn't drinking anymore.

That's a bottle of real good stuff

he has stashed
in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Charles!

- You promised. You swore.
- Cha--

Addison Blake d*ed intestate--

without a will, without any apparent heirs.

The State Attorney General,
after two years, acted to escheat.

Escheat?

Escheat, Miss Blake,

is the legal reversion of property
to the state in the absence of heirs.

California owns my father's property?

No, not quite.

Sheriff Ramsey was authorized
by the court to sell the estate's assets

and deposit the monies realized
in the state treasury.

And there was the dairy,
which the Lamberts bought.

About , acres
of undeveloped grazing land

some outfit called
the Ganado Land Company

bought and leased back to the dairy.

And the newspaper.

Clay Elliot's bucolic folly.

I bought the Ladera Ledger.

It's less than five years since the sale,
so the estate isn't permanently escheated.

You could petition to inherit.

How? Where?
I haven't even got a lawyer.

You petition where the Attorney General
maintains offices in Sacramento

or, better still, in Los Angeles.

Just a moment.

Mrs. Holmes,
would you ring the Ladera Hotel?

A Mr. Perry Mason, he's up on business
from Los Angeles.

He'll be in court all day,
but try to can contact his secretary.

Tell her I called, and set up
an appointment for Miss Blake

for this evening-- : ?

Yes, this evening.

Maybe Perry Mason can find the truth
about this k*lling.

Seven years ago, Blake and some friends,

including Floyd Grant
and Charlie Lambert,

went on a hunting trip together.

Blake was found separated
from his friends

and k*lled by his own g*n.

The Coroner finally ruled it
accidental death.

The morning of the day
he was accidentally k*lled,

Blake and Lambert had
a very violent argument and fight.

Lambert swore in front of witnesses
that he'd get even with Blake.

That's all in the record, son,

including the fact that Lambert
was so drunk he passed out,

couldn't remember anything
that happened the rest of the day.

So he said -- just as Floyd Grant
said that he had found Lambert out cold

and was trying to sober him up
miles away

at the exact time that Blake was k*lled.

A little convenient, wouldn't you say?

The death of Addison Blake
was thoroughly investigated.

There was not and is not one scintilla of
evidence

to warrant an action against
Charles Lambert or Floyd Grant.

Evidence.

He's guilty in the eyes of the whole
community, yet to the law he's innocent.

If Mr. Grant had anything to do
with my father's death,

then wouldn't that explain his possible fear
of my unexpected arrival?

And his attempt to prevent
the reopening of the case

by a phony accidental death
of Miss Blake.

But she didn't die, and there's
no evidence it wasn't an accident.

I'm well aware of Grant's hostility
toward Miss Blake.

That's one reason why I suggested
she retain Perry Mason.

Hostility, Mr. Taylor?

Floyd Grant has informed this office
that he has proof, documented proof,

that you are not Addison Blake's daughter,

that you are nothing more
than a fortune-hunting fraud.

Miss Blake! Oh, Miss Blake!

This came for you by special messenger.

Thank you, Mr. Morescu.

Something wrong?

Is there anywhere I can rent a car here?

I don't know.
You have a driver's license?

- Yes, an English one.
- Well, it's good enough, I suppose.

- Use my car. It's parked right here.
- Thank you.

Mr. Grant, I'm-- I'm just not sure--

You'd better be sure.

The engine room at the dairy,
and be on time-- p.m. sharp.

[ring]

Hello.

Yeah, just a minute.

Uh, it's for you, Perry.

A guy by the name of Floyd Grant.

Hello.

Mr. Mason?
I just spoke to Linda Blake.

That's right. You have an appointment
to see her sometime tonight.

It's vitally important I speak to you
before you see her.

- Can it wait?
- No, it can't wait.

I've got to see you right now
at my house.

Vista Haven Road.

I'll be waiting.

[click]

Hello?

"...or willful injury to the person
or property of another,

or violation of law
whether willful or negligent --"

- Perry--
- Just a moment, Paul.

"...such contract is against
the policy of the law."

Now what is it, Paul?

It's almost .

And this guy Floyd Grant
on the phone you told us

he wanted to see you almost immediately,

and almost immediately
was half an hour ago.

We'll finish the brief later, Della.

I may need a witness, Paul,
and see what this Mr. Grant has to say.

[buzzing]

[clatter]

- Wow!
- What was that?

The last time I heard a sound like that,

I was on the deck of a destroyer,
in the Pacific.

The engine room blew up.

[screaming]

I heard somebody running.

I went to the door, and I opened it.

A man-- I never saw his face clearly--
pulled me out of the engine room,

dragged me halfway across the parking lot,
and pushed me to the ground.

Then came--

After the expl*si*n, this man,
whom you hardly saw, was gone -

and you drove right back here?

I wasn't thinking very clearly, I suppose.

But I had to come back here,
don't you see?

You figured Grant was trying to k*ll you,
and you were furious.

Yes.

You wanted to b*at the truth out of Grant.

Oh, no.

I didn't want to--

Why did you go see Grant the first time?

He sent for me.

He warned me that I could go to jail
if I tried to claim my father's estate

because of some man.

A man who allegedly had
documented proof

that you were not
really Addison Blake's daughter?

Yes. Mr. Grant said that he'd arranged
for me to meet this man.

Mr. Grant said that the engine room
would be empty,

that this other man insisted
on meeting me there secretly and alone.

And after the expl*si*n,
after you'd returned here?

I rang, knocked.

There was no answer,
but the door was open.

I came in, and I called his name.

He didn't answer.

I started to look through the house.
He --

One moment, Miss Blake.

The walking stick you were holding--

It was just lying on the floor,
and I picked it up.

I don't know why I did. I just did.

And you never struck him
with that walking stick?

No, no! I didn't touch him!

When I saw him, he was lying
on the floor all bloody. Ohh!

[sobbing]

Come, Miss. Come along.

You'd better book her, Orville.

What charge?

First degree m*rder.

You don't believe her story, Nelson?

Perry, that walking stick she was holding,
the one she never touched him with--

the knob on it was covered
with blood and hair.

Even if she lied about hitting him,

it could have been a sudden quarrel,
heated anger...

considering that he'd just made
a second try at k*lling her.

Joe Italiano, the engineer at the dairy,
swears the expl*si*n couldn't be rigged.

It was a one-in-a-million
accidental short circuit.

Yes, but Linda Blake
didn't know that, Sheriff.

All she knew was this Grant
sent her out there

and then the joint blew up.

If he sent her, Mr. Drake.

No matter how you reason it,
she's in trouble.

She'll need help-- legal help, Perry.

She has it.

You?

Yes.

You referred her to me, remember?

Here, Paul.

Take my car keys.
You can drop me off at the hotel.

I'll have Della leave word
where you can find me.

After I do what?

After you find out what you can
about refrigeration equipment,

specifically how the machinery
at the Ladera Farms engine room worked

and if there's any other equipment
in the area like it.

And, of course, after you do a little digging
on Mr. Joe Italiano personally.

And how soon do you want all the answers?
Will an hour do?

Oh, no rush. Take two hours.

Did you see her?

Mm-hmm.

Linda Blake was very grateful
that you'd agreed to represent her.

I assured her you'd be in
sometime in the morning.

Get the answers I wanted?

Practically a full deposition.

Question-- "Why did you wait
over six and a half years

after the death of Addison Blake to come
forward and file a claim as his heir?"

Answer-- "Addison Blake was just
a name to me until two months ago."

What Linda told me, she thought
her father d*ed during World w*r II.

She didn't find out the truth until she was
going over her mother's private papers

after her mother d*ed
a few months ago in an accident.

A wartime romance.
Both parties agreed it was a bad mistake.

A quick wedding, an equally quick divorce.

She was too proud
to tell her husband she was pregnant

and later too ashamed to tell
her daughter about the divorce.

That explains why Addison Blake
d*ed without making out a will.

These back issues help,
but they don't tell enough.

Della.

Go to the County Hall of Records
when they opens and, uh...

Get the entire escheat proceedings,
a copy of all the records.

And what you can't find out
from the records--

Have Paul Drake's office find out.

If you will note, please, counselor,
exactly five minutes short of two hours.

- Hi, Clay.
- Hi, Paul.

Well?

There's another
ammonia compressor in town,

exactly like the one that blew up.

We have a date in the morning
with the engineer who runs it.

What about Joe Italiano,
the Ladera Farms engineer?

Well, he was in a bar, drinking
like there was no tomorrow,

then all of a sudden he gets up
and runs out just before the expl*si*n.

- I think I can guess why.
- Go ahead, guess.

A woman came into the bar
looking for someone.

She was very upset.

The woman was Donella Lambert--
Mrs. Charles Lambert.

It was after she left that brother Joe
Italiano took off like a scared rabbit.

Donella-- Donella.
That name rings a bell.

Yes, here it is.

"Miss Donella Wynne, private secretary
to the late Addison Blake."

The same person.

She married Lambert
a few months after Blake d*ed.

From what I understand, she's the one
who finally straightened him out,

put him on the wagon.

Well, he must have come "unput"
and fallen off that wagon

because the man she was looking for in the
bar was her husband Charles Lambert.

My husband's not well,
Mr. Mason. He's in bed.

And under specific instructions
from our physician

that he is not to be disturbed.

I trust it's nothing serious.

The expl*si*n at the plant--
naturally it upset him badly.

I believe the doctor referred to it as shock.

I thought possibly
it might have been a hangover.

My husband doesn't drink--
hasn't in five years.

That why you went looking for him in a bar?

Donella, call our attorney right now.

Your son will very likely be subpoenaed
for the hearing, Mrs. Lambert,

so I'd still find out what he has to say.

Perhaps you'd better
wait for the hearing, Mr. Mason.

What I have to say I'll tell the authorities,
with the advice of my attorney.

[Donella]
Good night, Mr. Mason.

No, no. I told the sheriff.

I told the sheriff
it had to be an accident.

Unless we can prove that someone
deliberately planned to k*ll Miss Blake

using the Ladera Farms compressor
to accomplish it,

she could go to the gas chamber.

Joe, if you don't mind,

I thought you might be able
to help us with a couple of experiments.

Why, sure. Go ahead. Glad to help.

Joe, let's suppose this is
the engine room at Ladera Farms.

Now, someone's tampered
with the timing clock.

Instead of the standby compressor
being set to go on in the morning,

it's been set to go on now
at : in the evening.

You--

You're wasting your time.

There's nothing you can do
that will make the compressor blow.

As an expert, I'm sure you're right.

However-- Okay, Paul, close it.

Let's just say that the machine
can be made to explode.

Now where would you start?

With the valve that Mr. Drake
has just closed?

I told you no. It's impossible.

With this valve?

Look, this thing's no toy, you know.

There's liquid ammonia inside.

Now suppose this liquid ammonia
were to escape

at, say, pounds of pressure.

Would the electric motor
on the compressor set off an expl*si*n?

I--

Well, the--

No, no, it couldn't happen.

But if it could, how long would it take?

You guys, you don't know
what you're doin' in here!

Maybe not, but we do have an idea
about your back alimony

and the salary attachment.

And the fact that you were over bucks
in the hole to the local bookie

and that you paid him off
late yesterday with new bills.

Did Grant pay you to fix that compressor

so the expl*si*n would happen
a little after ?

A man she can't identify

pulled Linda Blake away from
that engine room just after : .

Was that you, Joe?

Joe, if that man was you

and you knew that place was going
to blow up in a matter of seconds,

saving that girl's life
was an act of heroism,

not the act of an accomplice to a m*rder.

Get away from that switch!

Joe, the ammonia was drained
from the compressor an hour ago.

There never has been any danger.

Ohh.

Five years ago, in the hospital, I was going
to be operated on in the morning.

I was... scared, crying like a baby.

The guy in the next bed, he talked to me.

He-- He made me hold on to a Bible,
and he talked to me.

"You're not going up there alone, Joe."

Charlie kept telling me that all night.

This Charlie who befriended you
in the hospital,

- was that Charles Lambert?
- Yeah.

When Mr. Lambert's wife came
into the bar last night looking for him, I--

You thought you had unknowingly helped
Grant set a deathtrap for Lambert?

- Yeah.
- But it wasn't Charles Lambert.

It was Linda Blake
you rescued from that expl*si*n.

You've got to believe me.

I thought Grant just wanted
to collect insurance.

I didn't know he wanted to k*ll somebody!

That's the truth!

The truth!

Miss Blake, I've asked
Mr. Mason, your attorney,

to be here when I make
this formal statement.

the District Attorney's office is prepared
to reduce the charge against you

from First Degree m*rder
to Voluntary Manslaughter

if you will enter a plea of guilty
to the charge.

Before you answer, Miss Blake,
if you wish to consult with me privately,

I'm sure Mr. Taylor will arrange it.

Of course.

Mr. Mason, what happens if I do plead
Voluntary Manslaughter?

You could get at the most
ten years in State Prison.

The least?

The Adult Authority might be very lenient.

You could be released
in a little over a year.

If I don't plead guilty?

Mr. Taylor?

Depending on the findings
of the preliminary hearing,

you would be tried in Superior Court.

You could be found guilty
of First Degree m*rder.

Or the jury could find you innocent

or possibly guilty of second degree
m*rder or manslaughter.

You're waiting for me to decide?

I can advise you,

but the decision would still
be yours to make.

Mr. Taylor, I know your offer is
a generous gesture to help me, but--

But?

I did not k*ll Floyd Grant.

I did not hit Floyd Grant.

I will not plead guilty
to something I did not do.

The decedent obviously
had been struck repeatedly

about the head and shoulders
by some blunt instrument.

Was this walking stick, People's Exhibit ,
subjected to laboratory analysis?

Yes, sir, it was examined, all right.

The rough texture of the wood
didn't retain any fingerprints,

but we found blood and hair
on the knob end of the stick--

blood and hair of the exact same
type as that of the decedent.

Your witness, Mr. Mason.

This is an photograph
of the head of the decedent.

Would you indicate on my head, Sheriff,
exactly where the fatal blow was struck?

Sure.

Right there.

Right here?

Yeah. That's right.

Would you mind stepping out of the witness
stand for a moment, Sheriff?

Take this walking stick, Sheriff, please.

Hold it as you believe
the defendant held it

when she struck the decedent.

Now strike me, Sheriff.

One moment.

Linda Blake is left-handed, Sheriff.

Paul Drake and I
are prepared to testify under oath

that she was holding that walking stick
in her left hand

when we saw her in the room
with the decedent.

Change hands, Sheriff.

Now strike.

Thank you, Sheriff.

I think that's all.

A moment, Sheriff.

With the Court's permission,
I have some redirect examination.

Proceed, Mr. Taylor.

You testified the decedent
was struck repeatedly.

Now keep that stick in your left hand
and strike me repeatedly.

Strike me now, Sheriff.

And now.

Thank you, Sheriff.

I think that's all.

Oh, this hole in the head--

I believe it's yours, Mr. Mason.

[laughter]

In my professional opinion,

death resulted from the single blow
of a blunt instrument,

thus creating a fracture
between the left occipital

and parietal regions
of the decedent's head.

Yes. It was a depressed fracture.

Have you examined People's Exhibit
with relationship to that depressed wound,

and if so with what results, Doctor?

In my opinion, it is highly probable
that the instrument which was used

had the same relative diameter as the knob
on the head of this walking stick

and that it inflicted the fatal blow.

Thank you, Doctor Lieberson.

Cross-examine.

Doctor Lieberson,
that wound you described

as deeply depressed enough

to hold a clear impression
of the m*rder instrument--

tell me, do you think a woman
with rather limited strength

could inflict so severe a blow
as to cause such a wound?

Well, that may be a little outside
the area of my competency to judge.

However, I'd say it was possible, yes.

Would you explain to me and to this Court
what contrecoup lacerations are?

When the head is struck on one side,

contrecoup lacerations are those which
appear on the opposite side of the brain,

directly across from the area
of impact and fracture.

What causes them?

Oscillation-- that is, the vibrating movement
of the brain inside the skull.

The brain, you see, is suspended,
as it were, in fluid,

and contrecoup is, well, something
in the nature of a backlash.

Now, this backlash, this oscillation
occurs only-- only, Doctor--

when the head is in motion, or is free
to move at the moment of impact.

- Isn't that so?
- Naturally.

If the head were not in motion,
if it were immobile, then--

Doctor Lieberson,

were there contrecoup lacerations
on the right side of decedent's brain?

Yes, there were.

Is it your considered
professional opinion, Doctor,

that the decedent's head
was in contact with the floor

and immobile
when the fatal blow was struck?

With contrecoup lacerations?

No.

No, the head could not
have been on the floor

at the time the blow was struck.

It was about four, five minutes after

when I pulled her away
from the engine room.

After the expl*si*n, did you observe
the defendant, Linda Blake's, movements?

Yeah.

She got into a car,

drove off toward Vista Haven Road
where Floyd Grant lived.

Mr. Drake, you heard the expl*si*n

and saw the resulting fire
at a distance, of course.

At what time would you estimate that to be?

: .

Would you tell us, then,

when you and Mr. Mason arrived
at the decedent's home

and exactly what you saw there?

We arrived at the house : .
The front door was open.

As we reached it, we heard a woman
screaming inside the house.

The woman was the defendant,
Linda Blake.

As we came into the room, she was holding
the walking stick in her left hand.

You've got to understand what it was like,
what I've had to take all these years.

I'd had it, more than I could stomach!

So...

that night, after I got his call, I...

I decided to k*ll Floyd Grant.

How?

With a g*n, the g*n my mother
kept in her strongbox.

Go on.

I drove to his place,
parked on the street behind the house,

tried to get in the back door,
but it was locked.

I started around the front

just as the defendant,
Miss Linda Blake, came to the house.

- I hid.
- Where?

Across the street, behind some trees.

After a while, the door opened
and she came out.

Floyd was at the door.
I could hear him telling her

to be at the engine room at : ,
: sharp,

the same time he'd told me
to be at the engine room.

When Floyd Grant called you,
Mr. Lambert,

he said to be at the engine room at : ?

Yes, but not to meet Miss Blake.

He said Joe-- Joe Italiano--
would meet me there

to explain about an ammonia leak
trouble we'd been having.

But after that, after I saw Joe,
he wanted to see me back at his house...

to discuss a partnership in Ladera Farms.

After Miss Blake left,
what did you do then?

Did you cross the street?
Did you attempt to get into the house?

No, I was afraid.

I wasn't man enough to do it.

I-- I just sat on the ground,
under those trees, shivering with fear,

hoping he'd come outside,
hoping I'd have the strength,

the will to aim my g*n and sh**t him.

But Floyd Grant did not come
out of the house.

No.

After a while, she-- Linda Blake--

she came back and went into the house.

A few minutes after that, the two of them--
Mr. Mason and Mr. Drake-- they came.

I heard her scream,
and the two of them ran into the house.

From the time Linda Blake left the house
until Linda Blake returned,

who else besides Linda Blake
went into that house?

No one, absolutely no one.

Yes, I was Addison Blake's secretary
for quite a few years.

That , acres he owned--

it was considerably more than he needed
for grazing a small dairy herd.

Did he use the land for any other purpose?

He used it for hunting and fishing.

- Did he go alone?
- Most of the time.

On a few occasions,
he took Floyd Grant with him.

Grant worked for him in the dairy.

So did many other men.

So why just Floyd Grant on those trips?

Well, Grant had some training
in chemistry and geology,

and Mr. Blake was a bug on prospecting
and thought Floyd might be useful.

Wasn't there a newspaper story
some years ago

to the effect that Addison Blake
was in the belief

that he discovered gold on that land?

Yes, he was very excited

until he found out it would cost him
ten times as much

to get the gold out of the ground
than he could get for it.

Mrs. Lambert, did you believe
it was necessary

that Floyd Grant
give your husband an alibi

for the k*lling of Addison Blake?

I know my husband.

Drunk or sober, he could never k*ll.

Drunk or sober,
does he believe himself innocent?

I don't know.

Does his mother?

Mr. Lambert, referring to your earlier
testimony concerning Floyd Grant,

exactly what was it you had to take
all those years?

What was it you could no longer stomach

so that you were driven to the point
of contemplating m*rder?

Floyd Grant's arrogance, his humiliating
treatment of me, my wife, my mother,

the way he accepted and never
denied what everybody thought.

You're referring to the widespread
belief in Ladera

that without Floyd Grant's so-called alibi,

you might have been accused of the m*rder
of Addison Blake seven years ago?

Yes.

Exactly what was it
you resented, Mr. Lambert--

the behavior of the man
who gave you that alibi

or the fact that you needed the alibi?

I-- I don't know what you mean.

I mean did you k*ll Addison Blake?

Your Honor, I request
that the witness be advised

of his privilege against self-incrimination.

Mr. Lambert, you need not
answer that question

if you feel the answer might
tend to incriminate you.

I'll answer, Your Honor.

I was drunk, drunk to the point of oblivion,
the day Addison Blake was k*lled.

I honestly don't know whether I k*lled him.

- Are you still drinking?
- Yes.

Had you been drinking
the day Floyd Grant was k*lled?

Yes.

You testified under oath
that nobody entered that house

from the time the defendant left
until the defendant returned.

Mr. Lambert, during that time,
there was someone there

who could have entered the house.

What? Who?

The one person who admittedly
went there to k*ll Floyd Grant.

You did go there to k*ll him,
did you not?

Yes, but I--

Did you intend, then, to surrender yourself?

I don't know-- No, I wanted to get away.

It occurred to you, did it not,

that you could cover up for yourself
by blaming your crime on the defendant?

I had a revolver, not a club.
I couldn't have k*lled him!

No?

I have no further questions at this time.

Mr. Lambert, you're excused.

Mr. Taylor, call your next witness.

Your Honor, the State feels
it has presented a prima facie case

and moves that the defendant be
bound over for trial in Superior Court.

Mr. Mason, before I rule on this motion,

is it your intention to present a defense
at this preliminary hearing?

Yes, Your Honor.

We call as our first defense witness
Mrs. Sylvia Lambert.

Mrs. Lambert, the g*n your son was going
to use to k*ll Floyd Grant-- was it his?

No. It was registered in my name.

According to the police report, the g*n
was kept in your personal strongbox?

Yes, inside the safe.

Did you have the only key
to that strongbox?

No, my son had one, too.

You were served
with a subpoena duces tecum,

ordering you not only to appear in this court

but specifically instructing you to bring
with you to this court that metal strongbox.

- Do you have it?
- Yes.

Mrs. Lambert, beside the g*n,
what else is kept inside this strongbox?

Items of value, my own private papers.

Would you open it, please?

May I have those keys, please?

Do I need another court order,
Mrs. Lambert?

This is a key to what, Mrs. Lambert?

The front door of my house.

And this?

My garage door.

And this key?

My automobile.

Mrs. Lambert,
what lock does this key open?

The back door of Floyd Grant's house.

You were paying blackmail
to Floyd Grant?

Yes.

Your usual procedure
was to visit him at his house,

just as you used your key
to go in that back door

- the night Floyd Grant was m*rder*d?
- Yes.

A few moments ago,
you heard the judge advise your son

of his constitutional privilege
against self-incrimination.

I remind you that you may invoke the same
privilege after I ask you this next question.

Did you k*ll Floyd Grant?

I refuse to answer.

Mrs. Lambert, Ladera Farms
holds a lease on , acres of land

purchased at the escheat sale five years ago

by the Ganado Land Company
from the estate of Addison Blake.

When does that lease expire?

In a few more months, I believe.

This is a certified copy of a credit report
on the Ganado Land Company.

Would you read the name
of the sole owner, please,

aside from two dummy stockholders.

The one and only real stockholder
of the Ganado Land Company.

Mister...

Floyd Grant.

Next is a copy of an out-of-state company's
mineral appraisal of those , acres,

mailed to Addison Blake
one week before he was k*lled.

That land contained a potential fortune.

But a fortune in what?
Would you read it to the Court?

Oil.

Are you aware that the original
of this mineral report

was never found
among Addison Blake's effects?

No. I didn't know that.

Then you couldn't be aware of the fact

that Floyd Grant somehow got hold
of this report before Blake saw it,

that he also got the information that
Addison Blake had no will and no heirs,

that on his death his property
would escheat to the State.

Mrs. Lambert,
would you have this Court believe

that you didn't know Floyd Grant
wasn't giving your son an alibi,

that he was giving himself an alibi?

That loathsome lock and key!

All the years he made me
let myself in the back way,

crawling to him,
humiliating and degrading myself.

So you drove to the street
behind Floyd Grant's house,

parked beside your son's car,

and used this key
to let yourself in the back door?

Yes.

Now, your son used his car
to drive to the dairy.

Your daughter-in-law used your car
to search in the downtown bars for your son.

Tell me, Mrs. Lambert, with only two cars
at your house, which car did you use?

For five years Sylvia Lambert paid blackmail

to protect her son from the consequences
of a crime he did not commit.

To protect you.

Must she now suffer suspicion
for a crime she did not commit?

As Addison Blake's secretary,

wasn't it you who gave Floyd Grant
the original of the mineral report?

You who told him that Addison Blake
was without a will or heirs?

Yes.

Why?

I was engaged to marry Charles Lambert.

Floyd threatened to-- to tell him that--

That you, too, once had a key
exactly like this one--

a key to the back door
of Floyd Grant's house?

Yes.

When you went searching for your husband
and located Joe Italiano in that bar,

when Joe told you that he never
had an appointment

to meet your husband that night,
what did you do?

I drove to Floyd's and parked
on the street behind his house,

next to Charlie's car, and --

While your husband watched in front,

it was you, not Sylvia,
who unlocked and went in the back door.

Please, Mr. Mason, I would never have
let them convict Miss Blake, never.

When you recognized this key,

you must have realized that your
mother-in-law was paying blackmail.

Is that why you went into Grant's house?

To confront him with that knowledge?

I opened the door
and walked through the hallway,

and he was just standing there.

He must have thought
I was coming back to start over again.

When I pushed him away,
he became abusive and struck me.

I fell against the rack
with the walking sticks and--

Mrs. Lambert, just one more question.

When was it that you heard the expl*si*n?

Just as I grabbed hold of the stick.

Floyd was laughing.

Charlie-- Charlie, it was the expl*si*n,
don't you understand?

He said you were dead,

that he sent you into that expl*si*n
so that he and I could--

He reached for me,
and I hit him-- I hit him-- I hit him!

I'm sure the sale of that , acres

will be vacated and the property
returned to you, Linda.

The Civil Code refers to the presumption
of a purchaser in good faith.

Grant made sure that the real appraisal
of the property never showed up.

He rigged up a phony appraisal

and used that dummy Ganado company
to buy the land cheap.

Planning to sit on it for five years
until the escheat became permanent

and then presto--
oil happens to be discovered.

Mr. Mason, what about the dairy?

That sale was in good faith
and was legal in every sense of the word.

So was the purchase of my newspaper.
I've already checked that with Mr. Mason.

Mr. Clay Elliot, you sound as though
you thought I had designs on your paper.

I sort of hoped you did--

not right now, of course,
but eventually,

along with designs on me.

Mr. Mason, would you explain
the Community Property Law to Miss Blake?