The Case of the Buried Clock

Chapter 26

Thomas McNair seemed more debonair than ever as he took his seat in court the next morning. The crowded courtroom buzzed with whispered conversation. The jurors solemnly filed in and took their seats. And then, Hamilton Burger himself, a barrel-chested figure whose every movement suggested a bulldog tenacity, entered the courtroom and took his seat beside McNair.

Mason knew they were moving in for the kill. They’d rush the case to a quick, unexpected conclusion, and then toss it into his lap, let him try floundering around, searching for a weak link in the chain of circumstantial evidence which gripped the defendants.

Deputy sheriffs escorted the defendants into the courtroom. Dr. Macon, with his face set in a fixed mask to conceal his feelings, seated himself with motions that were stiff with self-discipline. Milicent Hardisty dropped into her chair, almost immediately propped an elbow on the arm of the chair, and rested her head against the upraised hand. Her attitude was that of tired dejection. She only wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Judge Canfield emerged from his chambers. The people in the courtroom arose as with one motion. After the judge seated himself, a gavel pounded counsel and spectators back to their seats.

“People versus Macon and Hardisty,” Judge Canfield said with a crisp, businesslike efficiency. “Both defendants are in court, and the jurors are all present, gentlemen. Proceed with the case.”

McNair went nimbly ahead producing witnesses who identified the molds of tire tracks which had been found at the Blane cabin, then expert witnesses who testified as to the make of the tires which had made those tracks, testified to checking the molds against the tires on Dr. Macon’s car.

And then Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, took over with ponderous dignity, with the lumbering efficiency of a big-gunned battle wagon swinging into action. “We wish to recall William N. Jameson,” he said.

Jameson, looking slightly weary about the eyes, but full of spirit, took the stand.

“You have already been sworn,” the district attorney rumbled. “Now, Mr. Jameson, I am going to direct your attention to the fact that yesterday on cross-examination, counsel asked you if you had made any search of the spot near where the defendant, Milicent Hardisty, had been standing when she was seen by witnesses to throw a gun, or an object resembling a gun, into a canyon. And you testified, I believe, that you had made no such search.”

“That is correct.”

“Do you now wish to change that testimony?”

“Not the testimony. At the time I answered the question, my testimony was correct, but since then I’ve made a very careful and exhaustive search of the locality.”

“When was that search made?”

“Last night.”

“When did it start?”

“At about six o’clock.”

“When did it terminate?”

“At about two-thirty this morning.”

“Why did you terminate your search?”

“Because I found the object for which I was looking.”

“Did you indeed! And what was that object?”

“A thirty-eight caliber Colt, police positive, double-action revolver, with all six chambers loaded, the gun bearing the number one-four-five-eight-one, and also bearing thereon two somewhat smudged latent fingerprints, which however, are readily identifiable as the fingerprints of the defendant, Milicent Hardisty.”

Hamilton Burger was too dignified to smirk triumphantly at Perry Mason as McNair would have done. He said simply, “Your witness, Mr. Mason.”

“No questions,” Mason snapped.

Hamilton Burger seemed somewhat surprised. However, he promptly called a representative of the sheriff’s office, who testified that some five years ago an application had been duly made by a citizen of Kenvale to carry a concealed weapon for the purpose of protection. The weapon was described as the Colt police positive, thirty-eight caliber, double-action revolver, bearing the number 14581.

“You have that application with you?”

“I have.”

“Did any person witness the signing of that application?”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“It was signed in your presence?”

“It was.”

“And I will ask you who signed that application?”

“Mr. Vincent P. Blane,” the witness said, and then added gratuitously, “the father of the defendant, Milicent Hardisty.”

Hamilton Burger moved with the slow dignity of a steam roller as he got up and walked over to the witness. “I will now ask that this application to carry a firearm be received in evidence as an exhibit on behalf of the People, and marked by the clerk with the appropriate exhibit number.”

Judge Canfield glanced at Perry Mason. “Any objection on the part of the defendant, Hardisty, Mr. Mason?”

Mason managed a bold front for the jurors. “None whatever,” he said.

Hamilton Burger said with that ponderous manner which was so characteristic of him, “Your Honor, I would like to recall Rodney Beaton for a few questions. I think the Court will appreciate the position in which the prosecution finds itself. Due to the finding of this second weapon, the finding of the so-called first weapon, or prosecution’s exhibit A, becomes relatively more important... That is, the circumstances surrounding the finding assume an added significance.”

Judge Canfield said, “The court will permit you to recall the witness, Counselor.”

Burger bowed his head gravely. “Rodney Beaton, come forward, please.”

Rodney Beaton arose from his position near the back of the courtroom, advanced to the witness stand.

Once more it was Hamilton Burger, himself, who did the questioning. “Mr. Beaton, you have previously been interrogated concerning the finding of a weapon which has been produced in evidence as the People’s exhibit A. I call your attention, Mr. Beaton, to that exhibit, and also to the fact that the cartridge in one of the cylinders has been discharged. I’m going to ask you if, when you and Miss Lola Strague found that weapon, you noticed anything in connection with that discharged cartridge?”

Beaton said, “I noticed that it had been freshly fired.”

Burger shook his head. “That is a conclusion. You are not, I take it, an expert on firearms?”

Beaton smiled. “I think I am.”

Burger showed some surprise. “What has been your experience?”

“I’ve been a collector of firearms for several years. I held a State championship as a revolver shot for two consecutive years. I have shot thousands of rounds in revolvers of different types. I have studied the effects of different loads, different shapes and weights of cartridges, both by consulting the available data of firearm and cartridge manufacturers, as well as by practical observations of my own.”

Hamilton Burger’s face showed great satisfaction, “And as a result of your knowledge, do I understand you to say that this weapon had been recently fired?”

“Within twenty-four hours,” Beaton said positively.

“How can you tell?”

“By the smell of powder fumes in the barrel. There’s a certain subtle change in odor after a weapon is fired. For the first few hours there’s a decided acrid odor, which later gives way to a more metallic smell.”

“Now, you have pointed out on the map, People’s exhibit C, the approximate spot where this weapon was found. Can you state anything in connection with the physical appearance of the ground?”

Beaton said carefully, “The weapon, when Miss Strague and I found it, was lying in some pine needles, which in turn were on a rather soft stretch of ground. The weapon was indented in the ground, as though it has been stepped on.”

“Were there any marks of struggle?”

“The pine needles would not hold clear-cut footprints, but there was a certain scuffing of the pine needles in the immediate vicinity. I’m accustomed to studying tracks in connection with my photographic activities. A deer in deep pine needles will leave a certain scuffed-up track, and I thought for a while these were deer tracks, but I changed my mind when—”

“Never mind your conclusions, Mr. Beaton. Simply state the physical appearance of the pine needles.”

“Well, they were scuffed up.”

“You may cross-examine,” Burger said to Perry Mason.

“What brought you to this particular place,” Mason asked, “at the time you discovered the gun?”

“Miss Strague and I were prospecting for a camera location. For some time I had been planning to set up one of my camera traps at a spot immediately to the south and west of the granite outcropping. A careful study of the tracks of animals, however, convinced me at the last minute that there was a better location for the camera to the south and east of this rock outcropping.”

“At approximately the point where the weapon was discovered?”

“Yes, sir. I was making a survey there, preparatory to placing the camera there.”

“And previously you had made a survey of the point to the south and west?”

“That’s right.”

“And on this particular occasion, when you and Miss Strague found this weapon, you took notice of the tracks, Mr. Beaton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you state that you have made it a point to notice tracks?”

“Yes, sir. I consider myself something of a naturalist. In getting night photographs of nocturnal animals, one must necessarily place cameras with some degree of skill — at least if first-class photographs are to result.”

“During the time that you were making a survey of this locality, did you see any clock, or did you hear the ticking of any clock, or did you—”

Hamilton Burger was up on his feet, clearing his throat importantly as he arose. “Your Honor,” he interrupted, “it seems that — no, Your Honor, pardon me Counselor, finish the question.”

“Or,” Mason asked, “did you notice any indication that the ground had been disturbed in any way?”

“Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “this is objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, as not proper cross-examination. If the defendants wish to get any evidence concerning a clock into this case, it will be necessary for them to introduce it on their own case and as part of that case. Furthermore, it appears that an attempt at this time to drag an alarm clock into this case, and to enshroud it with some sinister significance, is merely an attempt to confuse the issues and the jurors. I challenge counsel to point out to the court at this time any possible theory on which this clock can have anything to do with the murder of Jack Hardisty.”

Burger sat down.

Mason smiled and said, “At this time, Your Honor, I am only cross-examining the witness to test his recollection, and to determine the nature and extent of the search he made at that time.”

“As cross-examination directed for that purpose, the question will be permitted, and the objection is overruled,” Judge Canfield said.

“No, sir. I saw no sign of any buried clock, I heard no ticking of any clock. I saw no indication that the ground had been disturbed.”

“Subsequently, Mr. Beaton, while you were on the ground, did you have any of the witnesses point out to you a spot at which a clock had been found?”

Both Hamilton Burger and Thomas McNair were on their feet. It was Thomas McNair, forceful, dramatic, rapid in his conversation, who managed to get the first objection into the record. “Your Honor, we object. That is absolutely incompetent. It is an attempt to drag another issue into this case. It calls for hearsay evidence. It is an attempt to prove an incompetent fact by asking a witness about a conversation.”

Hamilton Burger cleared his throat, added importantly, “It is a matter which has, at no time, been touched upon in direct examination, Your Honor. No claim is made that the question even relates to the same general locality, concerning which the witness testified.”

Judge Canfield nodded his head. “It would seem that this objection is well taken, Counselor,” he said to Mason.

“I would like to be heard upon it, Your Honor.”

“Very well.”

Mason looked at the clock. “This, Your Honor, is a crucial point in the case. I think, if the Court please, I can get some authorities on the matter if I am given a little time. After all, some of the events of the morning, while known in advance to the district attorney, have naturally taken the defense entirely by surprise. The Court will note that this testimony about the second gun is at complete variance to the situation as heretofore disclosed by the testimony.”

“But that was outlined, anticipated and even suggested in your cross-examination yesterday, Mr. Mason.”

There was a smile in Mason’s eyes as he said, “And the witness offered to bet me a million dollars there was no second weapon to be found in that barranca. In the absence of the million-dollar payment, I should be en titled to sufficient time to investigate the new legal situation disclosed by this abrupt switch in the testimony.”

“Very well,” Judge Canfield said, smiling. “Court will take a recess until two o’clock this afternoon. If you wish to look up authorities, Mr. Mason, please bear in mind the point made by the prosecution, that this is an attempt to prove an extraneous fact by hearsay evidence. Not only does the Court consider the fact itself to be extraneous and irrelevant, but the question, as framed, called upon the witness to relate some action he had taken in connection with a statement made by some other person.”

“But Your Honor will note,” Mason said, “that the question relates to an activity on the part of this witness. The reason for that activity is embodied as a part of the question. I think we are entitled to show the activity, and, having shown that, the reason for it, as it might tend to show bias on the part of the witness.”

Judge Canfield frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head.

Hamilton Burger said, “If the Court please—”

“The Court will recess until two o’clock,” Judge Canfield said, “and all arguments will be heard at that time. In the meantime, there is nothing to be gained by a further discussion. However, the Court will consider that it is incumbent upon Mr. Mason to produce authorities in support of his question. Failing in that, the objection will be sustained. I think that clarifies the situation and the position of the Court. We will recess until two o’clock.”