Mason sat in the visiting room of the jail and let his eyes bore into those of his client.
"This," he said, "is your last chance."
"I'm telling you the truth."
"You can't ever change your story from this point on," Mason warned. "If you ever get on the witness stand, tell your story and then are forced to change it under cross-examination, you're a gone goose."
Dutton nodded.
"And don't discount Flamilton Burger's ability as a cross-examiner."
"Do you think I'm going to have to get on the stand?"
"You're going to have to get on the stand," Mason said. "They have a dead open-and-shut case against you. You're not only going to have to get on the stand, but you are going to have to persuade the jury that you're telling the truth.
"Now then, if they catch you in some little lie-just anything-the time you get up in the morning, how many lumps of sugar you had in your coffee, just anything that is false, they're going to hold it against you all the way down the line."
"I've told you the truth," Dutton said.
"You aren't trying to protect someone? You aren't shading the facts in order to make it easy on Desere Ellis?"
He shook his head.
"And you aren't trying to protect yourself?"
"No, I've told you the truth."
"Palmer had given you a number to call on the dot at nine-forty-five?"
Dutton nodded.
"You went to the telephone booth, called this number and were given another number, both numbers were pay stations, a voice told you to meet Palmer at the seventh tee at the Barclay Country Club when you called the second number?"
"Right."
"Now, was that last voice a woman's?"
"I don't know. At the time I thought it was a man trying to talk in a high-pitched voice so as to disguise it; now I just don't know. All I know is it was high-pitched for a man's voice, low-pitched for a woman's."
"What was the number you called?"
"It was a phone booth. I've forgotten the number. Palmer told me that he'd have someone there to take the call and tell me where he could meet me; that it would be a pay station I was calling so not to try to do anything funny."
"Now then, you remained in the phone booth and called a number?"
"Right."
"That was the number of a pay station?"
"That's right."
"And what happened when you called that number?"
"A voice answered, said, 'Take a pencil, write down this number and call it in exactly ten seconds-no more, no less.' I feel sure that first voice was a man's voice- Well, I'm not absolutely certain. It was sort of disguised."
"And you wrote down the number?"
"Yes."
"What was the idea of the two numbers?"
"Apparently so I couldn't locate the number in time to have police or private detectives get on the job and find out where I was to meet Palmer or in time to set up recording devices so they could catch him."
"But if you knew that it was Palmer you were going to be meeting…"
"I knew it was Palmer. I also knew he was supposed to have evidence that was going to discredit Fred Hedley."
"And why did you want that evidence?"
"You know why."
"I'm asking you so I can hear it in your words just the way you'll be telling it to a jury."
"I wanted to protect Desere Ellis."
"Why?"
"Because… well, because that was my job under the will."
"Whom were you protecting her from?"
"From herself, largely; and also from a man who was trying to take advantage of her."
Mason regarded his client thoughtfully, abruptly got to his feet. "All right, Dutton, I don't want you to think I'm rehearsing you. I don't want you to rehearse yourself. I don't want you to get on that witness stand and act as if your story had been rehearsed. I want you to tell the truth and it had better look as if you're telling the truth."
"I'll do my best, Mr. Mason," Dutton said.
Mason nodded. "Get some sleep. It's going to be an ordeal, and don't think it won't be."