This Game of Murder

Chapter XII

The next witness was Harold Farroway of the state police crime lab. When Arnold Ross started to ask him questions designed to establish him as an expert, Henry Quillan interrupted.

“I know Mr. Farroway’s work well, Your Honor. To save time, the defense will stipulate that he is expert in his field.”

Farroway had blown-up microscopic photographs with him. He used them to demonstrate that the screen had been cut from inside and that the rope fragment from the roof came from the coil of rope found in the garage. The photographs, plus his explanations of them, were very convincing.

When the district attorney turned him over for cross-examination, Quillan rose to his feet again.

“Mr. Farroway,” he said. “Were you able to establish by laboratory examination who cut this screen and who tied the rope to the air vent?”

“Of course not,” Farroway said.

“It might, then, have been anyone?”

“Insofar as I know.”

“Even the cat burglar?”

“I object,” the D.A. said. “Counsel is asking for a conclusion.”

“Sustained,” the judge said.

“That’s all,” Quillan told the witness.

The prosecution never wants to discharge all its ammunition at a preliminary hearing. Normally it presents only as much evidence as it thinks necessary to convince the judge the accused should be held for the grand jury; if that doesn’t work, it reluctantly unlimbers more guns. Arnold Ross decided to try on the basis of what he had shown so far.

“I have no more witnesses at this time,” he announced.

“Does the defense wish to present any witnesses?” Judge Gandy asked.

“Not at this moment, Your Honor,” Quillan said. “But I would like to present some arguments to the court.”

“All right,” the judge said. “Will both counsels please step forward?”

Gandy, like most judges, preferred to conduct hearings informally, his main purpose being to get both sides’ stories as quickly as possible. A three-way conference between the judge and the two attorneys often eliminated the necessity for much long-winded testimony.

Since all three spoke in conversational tones, they couldn’t be heard by most people in the courtroom. The press section was right next to the rail, though, only a dozen feet from the bench. Marshall could hear the entire exchange clearly.

The district attorney said, “Your Honor, we’ve shown beyond any doubt that the evidence of a prowler being at the Case home the night of the shooting was deliberately planted. This could have been done for no other purpose than to cover up deliberate murder.”

Henry Quillan said, “Counsel’s interpretation of the evidence is just one man’s opinion. Nobody knows just how this cat burglar operates, because he doesn’t leave many clues. He has cut screens before. Have any of them been examined by the state police lab to see from which side they were cut?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” the D.A. said.

“Why? You’ve interpreted the evidence your way. Now let me interpret it my way. I suggest that the cat burglar prepares for alternate escape routes before he enters a house. In this case, I suggest he hung a rope before that hall window, just in case he had to use it in an emergency, then entered the house by some other means. I suggest that when the shot alarmed him, he ran to this window, cut the screen in order to get out, not in, and scurried up the rope to the roof. In his haste he cut the rope, meaning to take it with him, but it slipped from his fingers and slid to the ground behind the shrubbery in front of the house. Mrs. Case has a ten-year-old son. It’s quite conceivable that he found the rope the next morning, coiled it up and put it in the garage.”

The judge said, “If you’re prepared to establish that this happened, put the boy on the stand.”

“I haven’t discussed it with him, Your Honor. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thought. The point is that the police didn’t interview him either — or anyone else on that subject. There are neighbor children around there all the time. Perhaps one of them found the rope and put it in the garage. Or perhaps the cat burglar himself had stolen it from the garage and for some odd reason decided to put it back when he was through with it. He’s probably a nut, so you wouldn’t necessarily expect him to behave rationally. What I’m trying to point out is that there are numerous alternate interpretations of the evidence, and the prosecution has fastened on just one.”

“Yours don’t impress me as being very convincing,” Judge Gandy said. “So far the prosecution’s seems most probable.”

“But the alternate possibilities establish reasonable doubt,” Quillan insisted.

“This isn’t a jury trial,” the judge said. “If we applied the principle of reasonable doubt to hearings, no one would ever be remanded for grand jury action. I have to base my decision on the most likely interpretation of evidence.”

“Then let’s touch on another point,” Quillan said. “The prosecution hadn’t even suggested a motive for murder. There has been no evidence presented that this couple wasn’t happily married. Even if there had been, the defendant happens to be a wealthy woman with everything, including all property which was jointly enjoyed by both herself and her husband, in her own name. Bruce Case had nothing but the income from his law practice as a junior partner in my firm. I’m prepared to establish all this through witnesses, if I have to. There would have been no financial disadvantage whatever to my client if she had divorced her husband. Why would she bother to kill him?”

The judge looked at Arnold Ross. “That’s a strong point.”

“We have a motive, Your Honor,” the D.A. said. “In view of the strength of the evidence we’ve already presented, I didn’t think it would be necessary to prolong the hearing.”

“The court isn’t in that much of a hurry,” Judge Gandy said. “I suggest you go ahead and establish your motive.”

The two attorneys returned to their tables. Marshall had a sinking feeling in his stomach, certain that Arnold Ross was going to call him as the next witness. He was surprised when the D.A. called for a Gail Thomas.

There was a stir in the courtroom as an attractive blonde in her early twenties rose from her seat and came forward. She wore a tight summer dress which hugged a slim, shapely body and emphasized a bosom which really didn’t need emphasizing. The skirt was a bit shorter than was customary in Runyon City and she wore a bit more make-up than the average local woman did, but she didn’t look cheap. She gave a rather glamorous show-business effect.

Marshall recognized her as a girl he had seen on the streets a couple of times in recent weeks, for in a town of only twelve thousand you are eventually bound to see every resident on the streets at some time or other, but he had no idea who she was.

When she was sworn in and had given her name as Gail Thomas, Arnold Ross said, “Is that Miss or Mrs.?”

“Miss,” the blonde said. “I’m not married.” She threw a strangely vindictive look at Betty as she said it, as though somehow the fact that she wasn’t married were Betty’s fault.

Betty was examining the girl without expression.

The D.A. asked, “Where do you live, Miss Thomas?”

“At 126 Howard. I have a two-room apartment.”

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a beautician at Dell’s Beauty Parlor.”

“How long have you been a resident of Runyon City?”

“About four weeks. Before that I lived in Buffalo.”

“Were you acquainted with the deceased Bruce Case?”

“Yes?”

“What was the nature of your relationship?”

“I’ve been his mistress for the past two years,” Gail Thomas said. “We were going to be married as soon as he divorced that woman over there.”

There was such a reaction of whispering in the courtroom that the judge had to pound his gavel. Marshall looked at Betty. She had taken her eyes from the witness and was staring straight ahead.

Arnold Ross said, “Are you also acquainted with the defendant, Mrs. Elizabeth Case?”

“I met her once. I had seen her around town a couple of times before that, and somebody told me who she was.”

“What were the circumstances of this single meeting? First, when did it occur?”

“About a week ago. Last Friday at around five-thirty p.m. Just two days before she shot Bruce.”

The D.A. said, “Please describe the meeting.”

“She was waiting in front of my apartment in her sports car when I got home from work. I knew who she was, because as I told you, somebody had pointed her out to me downtown. When I walked into the building she got out of the car and followed me. She came up behind me as I was putting the key in my door and said, ‘Are you Gail Thomas?’

“I said yes, she told me who she was, though I already knew, and she asked to talk to me. I suspected what was coming, but there wasn’t much I could do, so I invited her in.

“Inside she refused a seat and just looked me up and down. She had a real icy stare. Finally she said, ‘So you’re the woman my husband has been sleeping with. I don’t want anything in particular. I merely wanted a look at you so I could decide what to do.’ The way she said it, I knew she had already decided what to do, and it wasn’t divorce.”

Henry Quillan’s roared, “Objection!” drowned out the murmur in the courtroom.

The judge said to the clerk, “Strike that last sentence from the record.”

Arnold Ross said, “Your witness,” and sat down.