"Well?" Todd flung at me.
"I'm out of luck!" I responded.
Simpson rose. "Let's go on. We have crossed off two of our suspects
from the list, let's see--"
"I'd rather not go on," I interrupted, looking out of the window to
escape Todd's searching eyes. There was a moment's silence, then
Simpson spoke.
"We'll do our best but it will be a hard fight. If Mrs. Felderson
could only recall what happened that night and before, we might have a
chance, but every woman that has come up for murder during the last few
years, has worked that lost memory gag."
"But my sister really _has_ lost her memory!" I exclaimed.
"I know, my dear boy," Simpson soothed. "That is what makes it so
difficult. If she were only shamming now, we could--. But with your
sister as helpless as a child, the prosecuting attorney will so confuse
her, that our case will be lost as soon as she takes the stand."
"Why put her on at all?" I asked.
"Because we have to, if we hope to win our case," he replied. "The one
big chance to win your jury comes when your beautiful client testifies."
For a few minutes he was silent, obviously thinking, and thinking hard.
"Of course, our defense will have to be temporary insanity," he
declared at last.
"Oh, not that!" I begged.
"It's our only chance," Simpson argued, "and I don't mind saying that
it's a pretty poor chance at that. Three years ago it might have been
all right, because a conviction only meant a few months at a
fashionable sanitarium, and then freedom. But when that Truesdale
woman went free, an awful howl went up all over the country and I'm
afraid the next woman who is found, 'guilty but insane,' will be sent
to a real asylum."
A shudder of horror ran through me. For Helen to be sent to an asylum
while her mind was in its weak state might well mean permanent insanity.
"You talk to your sister as often as you can and try to help her
recover her lost memory. Of course you'll have the best specialists
examine and prescribe for her. In the meantime, we'll investigate both
the Woods and Zalnitch cases to see if they are hole-proof."
"You might get those papers on Woods, if you will," Todd reminded me.
I thanked them and left, greatly depressed but ready to fight to the
last ditch to save Helen's life. The papers dealing with Woods had not
been among Jim's effects when I had looked them over at the office and
I was confident they had not been picked up on the night of the murder,
for they would have been returned to me. Thinking they had probably
been left in one of the pockets of the automobile, and overlooked when
the machine was searched, I decided to run out to the Felderson home
the first thing in the morning.