Beware the Curves

sympathetically at John Ansel. Several of them glanced at Elizabeth Endicott and studied her poker face.
    I made a note to remind Quinn to tell the jury that here was a woman who had suffered so much that she had abandoned tears as a useless expedient for emotional relief. Here was a woman who had had no outlet for her emotions for years, a woman who had suffered to the point of exhaustion.
    Quinn began to get in his stride. He had more assurance and was showing some of the qualities that had given him a reputation as an up-and-coming trial lawyer.
    By the time they started putting on evidence, most of the impression that Irvine had made on the jury with his opening argument had vanished. The jurors were interested and curious. They kept looking over the lawyers, the witnesses, the defendant, and above all Elizabeth Endicott.
    After all, she was a public figure, the wealthy head of an oil empire, a mysterious woman who had kept to herself after the tragedy but who was now charged with having engaged in surreptitious meetings with a lover, a lover who in turn was hiding from the police.
    The jurors prepared to enjoy all of the spicy details.
    Irvine put on witnesses and went very briefly through the necessary preliminaries: the fact of death, a surveyor who introduced a diagram of the premises, a photographer who showed photographs, an autopsy surgeon who had made a post-mortem examination showing that Karl Carver Endicott had been killed by a .38 caliber bullet, which had been fired into the back of his head, a bullet which had almost protruded from the forehead of the dead man.
    The slug had been recovered and was introduced in evidence. The shot had been fired from such a distance that there were no powder bums. It was the opinion of the witness that the shot had been fired “a matter of feet” from the deceased at a time when the decedent had his back turned to the murderer.
    Mortimer Irvine looked at the clock, then said dramatically, “Call Helen Manning to the stand.”
    Helen had dolled herself up. Aside from a few extra pounds, she was one good-looking babe and she knew it. You only needed one look at her as she got on the witness stand to know that the thing had worked in reverse. Instead of her dazzling Mortimer Irvine, he had turned loose his charm on her and had wrapped her around his finger.
    She was like a well-trained dog on a leash doing exactly what was expected. She told her story in a low, throaty voice; that is, the story she wanted to tell.
    She testified she had worked for Mr. Endicott for some years. She had finally decided to resign because the work was rather heavy for her, she wanted a change, and frankly there was a situation in the office that she didn’t want to bother Mr. Endicott with, but which made it unpleasant for her. She was a highly competent secretary. She could get a position anywhere, and she chose to leave Mr. Endicott’s employ. Mr. Endicott was very much concerned over her departure. He tried to find out what was wrong. He offered to make any adjustments that he could make, but she steadfastly refused to tell him why she was leaving because the young woman whom it was difficult for her to get along with was supporting a sick mother and needed the job. She wasn’t a very good secretary anyway, and would have had difficulty getting other employment, whereas Helen was thoroughly competent, well trained and could go out and get a job anywhere.
    She had a letter signed by Mr. Endicott expressing his concern at losing her services, stating definitely that she was leaving of her own accord and recommending her very highly.
    At about the time she was severing her connection with the office, she had “been told” that the defendant John Dittmar Ansel had been sent into the Brazilian jungle on a suicide expedition. She had, unfortunately, believed this story and communicated it to Mrs. Endicott.
    “And what did Mrs. Endicott say?” Irvine asked.
    Quinn had his assurance back. He was on his feet with a roar. He accused the district attorney of misconduct. He objected to the question. He moved to strike out the entire evidence of the witness. Anything that had been communicated to Elizabeth Endicott was not evidence against the defendant and the district attorney knew it. This was an insidious attempt to prejudice the jury. It constituted prejudicial misconduct. Quinn assigned it as such, and asked the Court to disregard the statements of the witness and to admonish the