The Case of the Calendar Girl

Chapter Nine

The clerk of Judge Erwood’s court indicated the spectators could be seated. The judge called the case, “People versus Ansley.”

“Ready for the defendant,” Mason said.

“Ready for the prosecution,” Sam Drew, one of Hamilton Burger’s chief trial deputies, said.

“Proceed with the case,” Judge Erwood said.

Sam Drew got to his feet. “May the Court please, I think at the start it would be well to have the situation definitely understood. This is a preliminary hearing. The prosecution frankly admits that it doesn’t have any intention of putting on enough evidence at this time to convict the defendant of first-degree murder. But it certainly does intend to put on enough evidence to show that first-degree murder has been committed and that there are reasonable grounds to believe the defendant committed that murder.

“As we understand it, that’s the sole function of a preliminary hearing.”

“That is correct,” Judge Erwood said. “This is a preliminary hearing. The Court has noted that some attorneys seem to have an erroneous idea of the issues at a preliminary hearing. We’re not trying the defendant now, and, above all, we’re not trying to find out if the evidence introduced by the prosecution proves him guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.

“All the prosecution is trying to do here, and all the prosecution needs to try to do here, is to prove that a crime has been committed and that there is reasonable ground to believe the defendant is guilty thereof.

“The Court is going to restrict the issues in this case, and the Court is not going to permit any dramatics. Is that understood, gentlemen?”

“Quite, Your Honor,” Mason said, with great cheerfulness.

“Exactly,” Sam Drew said.

“Who’s your first witness?”

Drew called a surveyor who gave a sketch of the Borden estate and showed its location. He also introduced a map of the city and the suburbs and the location of the Golden Owl Night Club.

“The Court will take judicial cognizance of the location of the various cities in the county,” Judge Erwood said. “Let’s not take up the time of the Court with anything except the essential facts. Do you wish to cross-examine this witness, Mr. Mason?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Very well, the witness is excused. Call your next witness,” Judge Erwood said.

Drew’s next witness was Marianna Fremont, who stated that she had been Meridith Borden’s housekeeper for some years. Monday was her day off because quite frequently Meridith Borden did entertaining on Sunday. On Tuesday morning, when she drove up in her car, she had found the gates locked, indicating that Meridith Borden was not up as yet. That was not particularly unusual. The housekeeper had a key, she inserted the key in the electric connection, pressed the button, and the motors rolled the gates back wide open. The housekeeper had driven in and parked her car in its accustomed place in the back yard.

“Then what did you do?” Drew asked.

“Then I went to the house and opened the door and went in.”

“Did you see anything unusual?”

“Not at that time, no, sir.”

“What did you do?”

“I cooked Mr. Borden’s breakfast and then went to his room to call him. Sometimes he would come out for breakfast in a robe, sometimes he had me bring breakfast to him.”

“And did you notice anything unusual then?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“There was no sign of him in his bedroom.”

“What did you do, if anything?”

“I looked to see if he had left me a note. Sometimes when he was called out overnight he’d leave a note telling me when to expect him.”

“Those notes were left in a regular place?”

“Yes.”

“Did you find any note that morning?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well,” Drew said. “Tell us what happened after that.”

“Well, I started looking the place over after I found that Mr. Borden hadn’t slept in his bed that night.”

“Now, just a minute, that’s a conclusion,” Drew said. “And, while this hearing isn’t like a trial before a jury, I think we’d better keep the record in shape. When you said his bed hadn’t been slept in, what do you mean?”

“Well, his bed was made fresh.”

“Go on.”

“Well, then I started looking around and went into the studio.”

“Now, what’s the studio?”

“That’s the room where he did his photography.”

“Can you describe it?”

“Well, it’s just a room. It’s up a short flight of stairs, and it’s arranged with a big skylight on the north, a big, long slanting window so he could get the right kind of illumination. There’s ground glass in the windows. And then there are a lot of electrical outlets so he could turn floodlights on and use spotlights.”

“Mr. Borden used this room?”

“Oh, yes, he used it lots. He was a photographer and liked to photograph things, particularly people.”

“And when you went into that room, what did you find?”

“I found Mr. Borden sprawled out on the floor with a bullet hole—”

“Tut-tut. Now, you don’t know it was a bullet hole,” Drew interrupted. “You saw something which directed your attention to his chest?”

“Yes. There’d been a lot of bleeding coming from a hole in the chest.”

“Mr. Borden was dead?”

“Oh, yes, he was stiff as a board.”

“So what did you do?”

“I called the police.”

“That’s all,” Drew said.

“Do you wish to cross-examine?” Judge Erwood asked Mason.

“This photographic studio,” Mason said, “can you describe it a little better? Was there anything in it other than what you have mentioned?”

“Oh, yes. A darkroom opens off it. There’s a stand with a portrait camera on wheels so you can move it forward and back. And there are a lot of curtains. You know, great big, roller-shade things like curtains that have painted scenery for a background. You know the type of thing photographers use, like beach scenery and mountain scenery and all that.”

“Can you tell us just how Mr. Borden was lying?”

“Well, he was on his back with— It’s hard to describe. He was all stiff and awkward.”

“We have a photograph taken by the police photographer,” Drew said.

“I’ll stipulate it may go in evidence,” Mason said, “and that will eliminate the necessity of asking any more questions of this witness.”

Drew produced an eight-by-ten photograph, handed one copy to Mason, one copy to Judge Erwood and one copy to the clerk of the court.

“This photograph will be received in evidence,” Judge Erwood said. “Call your next witness.”

“Officer Gordon C. Gibbs,” Drew said.

Gibbs came forward and was sworn.

“You’re a police officer connected with the Metropolitan Police Force?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On last Tuesday, did you have occasion to enter the apartment leased by the defendant?”

“I did, yes, sir.”

“Did you have a search warrant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Bloody clothing, a murder weapon, anything that would indicate the defendant had been involved in a crime of violence.”

“Did you find any of the things you were looking for?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you find?”

“I found a suit of clothes with rusty brown spots all over them. I took these clothes to the police laboratory and they found the spots were—”

“Just a moment!” Drew snapped out the interruption as Mason was getting to his feet. “The laboratory expert will testify as to what he found. Now, did you do anything in the way of identifying this suit of clothes?”

“I did, sir.”

“What?”

“I took it to the cleaner whose mark was on the clothes and asked him if he was familiar with the suit and how often he’d seen it and who had sent it in when it had been cleaned. I suppose I can’t testify to his answers.”

“That’s right, you can’t,” Drew said.

Ansley leaned forward and whispered to Mason, “That was a suit I’d worn when I had one of my nosebleeds. I have them at intervals. This was a windy day, and I had to walk from the job to where I’d parked my car.”

Mason turned his attention to the police witness.

“Cross-examine,” Drew said.

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that these were bloodstains, do you?” Mason asked.

“No, sir.”

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that it was the defendant’s suit?”

“No, sir.”

“You don’t know of your own knowledge that these stains weren’t the result of the defendant’s having a bloody nose, do you?”

“No, sir.”

“All you know is you found a suit of clothes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You tried to check the cleaning marks on that suit of clothes and you delivered it to the police laboratory, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that’s really all you know about that suit’ of clothes?”

“I know the appearance of the stains on it.”

“Certainly,” Mason said. “You thought they were significant stains, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered with it.”

“That’s right.”

“You don’t know how long those stains had been on that suit, do you?”

“I know what the cleaner told me as to when he had last cleaned the suit, and—”

“You’re an officer,” Mason said. “You know you’re supposed to testify as to your own knowledge, and not to what someone told you. Now, I’ll repeat, you don’t know how long those stains had been on that suit, do you?”

“No, sir.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all.”

“I’ll call Lt. Tragg to the stand,” Drew said.

Lt. Tragg came forward, testified as to his name and occupation.

“Do you know the defendant in this case?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you first meet him?”

“On Tuesday, the ninth.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“In a parking lot.”

“Who was with you at that time?”

“No one.”

“Who was with the defendant at that time?”

“Mr. Perry Mason, who is acting as his attorney.”

“Did you have any conversation with the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you state the general subject of that conversation? I won’t bother you for the exact words at this time.”

“We don’t want the witness testifying to his conclusions as to the conversation,” Mason said.

“I’m not asking for that. I’m only asking if he can remember generally the subject of the conversation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was it?”

“I asked him about a gun in the glove compartment of his car.”

“Now, what did you do at that time?”

“I took a gun from the automobile.”

“Where was it?”

“In the glove compartment.”

“Can you describe that revolver?”

“Yes, sir. It was a Colt .38-caliber revolver of the type known as a police model.”

“Did you have occasion to notice the number?”

“I did.”

“What was it?”

“613096.”

“What did you do with that gun?”

“I turned it over to the ballistics department.”

“Now, Lieutenant,” Drew said, “you didn’t turn it over to a department, you turned it over to some person in that department.”

“That’s right, to Alexander Redfield.”

“He’s the police expert on ballistics?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told the defendant I wanted him to go to Headquarters with me.”

“Did he make any objection?”

“No, sir.”

“He went to Headquarters?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, while he was there, did he make any statement to you?”

“He did, yes, sir.”

“What did he say?”

“He made a statement about what he had done the night before, and about the time he had seen Meridith Borden. I asked him if he had any objection to writing down what he had said and giving us a signed account of what had happened. He said he didn’t, so I gave him pencil and paper and he wrote out a document.”

“Do you have that document with you?”

“I do, yes, sir.”

“That was entirely written, dated and signed by the defendant and is in his handwriting?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did anyone tell him what to put in there?”

“No, sir, only to write down what had happened.”

“Did anyone offer him any promises, threats or inducements?”

“No, sir.”

“Was he subjected to any physical or mental pressure whatever in order to get him to make this statement?”

“No, sir.”

“He did it of his own free will and accord?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have that statement here with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If the Court please,” Drew said, “I will offer this gun in evidence and also this statement.”

“Very well,” Judge Erwood said.

“Those are all the questions I have of this witness at this time. I may wish to recall him later,” Drew said.

“Quite all right,” Mason said. “I know the witness will be available. We waive cross-examination.”

“You waive it?” Drew asked incredulously.

“Certainly,” Mason said. “I have no questions, none whatever.”

“Call your next witness,” Judge Erwood said.

Sam Drew said, “Call Harvey Dennison to the stand, please.”

Harvey Dennison came forward and was sworn. He testified that he was an owner and proprietor of a general hardware store known as the Valley View Hardware Company, that he had been with the company for a period of more than three years, that he had examined the Colt revolver, Number 613096, that his records showed that this revolver had been purchased from the wholesaler, placed in stock, but that it had not been sold. He said that some three years ago it had been called to his attention that the gun was missing from the showcase, that this theft had turned up in connection with an inventory which was being taken, and the only possible conclusion was that the gun had been stolen, that there had been two occasions at about that time when the store had been entered by someone who had picked the lock on the back door, that certain things had been missing, but the fact that the gun was missing was not discovered until sometime after the burglaries.

“Any cross-examination?” Sam Drew asked of Mason.

“No cross-examination,” Mason said.

“Call Alexander Redfield,” Drew said.

Redfield came forward, was sworn and qualified himself as a ballistics expert and an expert on firearms and firearm identification.

“I show you a Colt .38 which has previously been introduced in evidence and is marked People’s Exhibit 13. This weapon bears the manufacturer’s serial number of 613096. Have you seen that weapon before?”

“I have.”

“Have you fired a test bullet from it?”

“I have.”

“Describe briefly what you mean by a test bullet.”

“Each individual barrel has certain defects, irregularities or individualities; little scratches, projections, et cetera, which leave a mark on any bullet which is fired through that gun.”

“Are you referring now to the lands and grooves?”

“Oh, no, those are entirely different. Those leave what is known as class characteristics on a bullet. I am referring now to the striations which are known as the individual characteristics of a bullet.”

“And by firing a test bullet through a gun, you collect evidence of these defects and irregularities?”

“We do. They cause bullet striations, numerous tiny scratches which are spaced at irregular distances, yet which are always uniform in any bullet fired from any given barrel.”

“You mean that it is possible to identify a bullet which has been fired from any particular barrel?”

“That’s right, if you have the gun, the fatal bullet and a test bullet.”

“And how do you get these so-called test bullets?”

“We fire the gun into a long box in which there are materials such as cotton waste, pieces of paper, cotton, or things of that sort, to retard the bullet without defacing it.”

“You fired a test bullet through this gun you are now holding?”

“I did.”

“And did you subsequently have occasion to compare that bullet with another bullet?”

“I did.”

“Where did you get that bullet?”

“From the coroner.”

“When?”

“Tuesday afternoon, the ninth.”

“And what can you say, with reference to the two bullets?”

“The bullet given me by the coroner agreed in such a large number of details with test bullets fired from this gun that I have no hesitancy in declaring that the so-called fatal bullet was fired from this gun.”

“Do you have the bullet which was given you by the coroner?”

“I do.”

“And one of the test bullets?”

“I do.”

“Will you produce them, please?”

The witness took two small, plastic vials from his pocket, said, “This is the bullet given me by the coroner which, in my photographs, I refer to as the fatal bullet, and the bullet in this container is what I refer to as the test bullet.”

“You made photographs showing a comparison of those bullets?”

“I did. I made photographs in which the test bullet was partially super-imposed upon the fatal bullet so that it was possible to follow the striations of the bullets as they continued on the overlapping image.”

“The striations matched?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have those photographs here?”

“I do, yes, sir.”

“I will ask that these be received in evidence,” Drew said.

“No objection,” Mason announced cheerfully.

“Any cross-examination?” Drew asked Mason.

“None, Your Honor. I have the greatest confidence in Mr. Redfield’s integrity and ability.”

“That’s all,” Drew said.

The coroner was then called to testify that, under his supervision and direction, an autopsy had been performed upon the body of Meridith Borden, that a bullet had been found imbedded in the torso of Borden, that this bullet had been carefully removed by the autopsy surgeon, placed in a plastic vial with a screw top, sealed in the vial, and the vial had been turned over by him to Alexander Redfield, the ballistics expert.

“That’s all,” Drew said.

“No questions on cross-examination,” Mason announced.

Judge Erwood settled back in his chair with something akin to relief. Sam Drew, on the other hand, acted like a man who is walking over a mined area and momentarily expects an explosion to blow him into kingdom come. His case was proceeding all too regularly, all too swiftly and according to blueprint specifications. Everyone who was familiar with Perry Mason’s courtroom strategy knew he never permitted cases to proceed in such a manner — not for long.

Drew called the autopsy surgeon to the stand and questioned him concerning the findings at the autopsy. The surgeon read from notes stating that he had recovered a .38-caliber bullet which he had placed in a plastic container and turned over to the coroner, who, in his presence, had turned it over to Alexander Redfield; that the bullet which the coroner turned over to Redfield was the same bullet which he had recovered from the body of Meridith Borden, that the bullet had entered the left chest at a point slightly to the left of the median line and had ranged slightly down-ward, that he had recovered the bullet in the skin of the back, that the bullet had torn one corner of the heart completely out, and that in his opinion, death had been due to this bullet wound and had been virtually instantaneous.

“In addition to your other qualifications,” Drew asked, “have you had experience in blood classifications and serology?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I show you a suit of clothes on which there are certain spots, and ask you if you have examined those spots.”

“I have, yes, sir.”

“What are they?”

“Blood.”

“Can you tell what kind of blood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What kind?”

“Human blood.”

“Can you further classify this human blood as to type?”

“Not on all of the spots. Some of them are too minute to permit a classification. But I have been able to classify the larger spots.”

“What classification?”

“The group that is known as AB.”

“Is this the relatively common group?”

“No, sir. It is a very rare blood grouping.”

“Can you estimate the percentage of people who have this grouping?”

“I would say not to exceed twelve per cent.”

“What type was the blood of the decedent, Meridith Borden?”

“The same type as the blood which appears on this suit, type AB.”

“Cross-examine,” Drew said.

“Could you tell how old those stains were?” Mason asked.

“Not exactly.”

“They had dried and changed color?”

“That is right.”

“What is the type of the defendant’s blood?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“No. Probably it is type O. That is the most common type. Around fifty per cent of the people have that type.”

“But for all you know the defendant’s blood may be type AB?”

“That is right. Once we show his suit is spotted with human blood, it’s up to him to show that it’s his — at least that’s the way I look at it.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

He turned to Ansley and whispered, “What’s your blood type?”

“I don’t know,” Ansley said. “I only know that I was wearing that suit when I had the nosebleed.”

“No further questions on cross-examination,” Mason said as the witness remained on the witness stand.

“That’s all,” the Judge said. “Call your next witness, Mr. Prosecutor.”

“Call Beeman Nelson,” Drew said.

Nelson was sworn, gave his occupation as operator of a cleaning establishment, identified the cleaning mark on the bloodstained suit, stated that he had cleaned and pressed the suit on at least five different occasions, that the suit on each occasion had been received from and delivered to George Ansley, the defendant; that the last date he had cleaned, pressed and delivered the suit to Ansley was about ten days before the murder. At that time the suit had been in good condition and there were no blood spots on it.

“Any questions?” Drew asked Perry Mason.

“None whatever,” Mason said.

Judge Erwood indicated impatience, glancing at the clock, quite evidently prepared to make an order binding the defendant over to the higher court for trial.

Drew, noticing the signs of judicial impatience, said, “If the Court please, I have just one or two more witnesses. I feel that I can conclude this case within a short time.”

“Go ahead,” Judge Erwood said. “Call your witnesses.”

“Call Jasper Horn,” Drew said.

Jasper Horn, a tall, raw-boned, slow-moving individual, came forward, held up a big, calloused hand and was sworn.

“Your name is Jasper Horn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s your occupation, Mr. Horn?”

“I’m a foreman.”

“Are you acquainted with the defendant, George Ansley?”

“I am, yes, sir.”

“Do you work for him, or have you worked for him?”

“That’s right. I’m foreman on a job he’s doing, building a school out in the west side.”

“I’m going to direct your attention to last Monday morning and ask you if you had any conversation with George Ansley.”

“Sure, I had lots of conversations with him. He was out on the job and we were looking around.”

“Was there anything particularly unusual or annoying — I’ll withdraw that. Let me ask you this. Had there been any complaints about the buildings not being up to specifications?”

“Lots of them.”

“Was there any particular matter which you were discussing with Mr. Ansley last Monday morning about the problems of inspection?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was it?”

“Well, some of the steel supports in one of the walls had warped a little bit out of line. The distance between centers was not quite uniform, and one or two of them were slightly off.”

“Had you previously had some conversation with the inspector about that?”

“I had.”

“And what did the inspector tell you?”

“He told me that stuff would have to be fixed up or the wall would have to come out.”

“You argued with him?”

“I’ll say I argued with him.”

“And then, later on, you reported this conversation to Ansley?”

“Sure. I told him about it.”

“And did you make any suggestion to Ansley at that time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was it?”

“I told him that if he was smart, he’d go and see Meridith Borden and his troubles would be over.”

“And what did Mr. Ansley say at that time?”

“He told me that he’d take a gun and shoot Borden through the heart before he’d knuckle under to a guy like that and pay tribute. He said that if Borden was making all these troubles for him hoping he’d get a shake-down, Borden was out of luck. He said killing was too good for people like that.”

There was a slight murmur in the courtroom.

“Your witness,” Drew said.

Mason straightened in his chair. “That conversation was Monday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Had you had previous conversations about defective construction with inspectors?”

“I’ll say I had... Nothing else but, if you ask me.”

“The inspectors had been rather critical?”

“Mr. Mason,” the witness said vehemently, “the inspectors had been tough, mighty tough. They’d crawled all over the job looking for the most microscopic details they could dig up. They’d throw those things at us, make us tear stuff out and replace it. They were crawling all over the place, getting in my hair, hampering construction, driving us all nuts.”

“Up until Monday of last week?”

“That’s right.”

“Including Monday?”

“Including Monday.”

“Now, directing your attention to Tuesday morning, did you have any conversation with the inspectors?”

“Just a minute,” Sam Drew said, “that’s incompetent, irrelevant, immaterial and not proper cross-examination. I didn’t ask the witness anything about Tuesday morning.”

“I think I’m entitled to examine the witness as to all of his conversations with the inspectors,” Mason said. “After all, he’s testifying as to conclusions. He’s testifying that the inspectors were unreasonable, that they were tough, and so I’ve got a right to show all of the experiences this man has had with inspectors, what he means by saying they were unreasonable, what he means by saying they were tough. There must be some standard of normal that he is referring to in his own mind.”

“I think I’ll allow the question,” Judge Erwood said.

“Tuesday morning,” the witness said, “there was a great big difference. The inspector on the job came to me and told me he was satisfied there had been a substantial compliance with the specifications on the steelwork on the wall. He said he’d watched our work, that he felt it was very good and that he was satisfied we were doing a good job. He said that from now on he was going to leave me pretty much on my own to complete it.”

“That was Tuesday morning?” Mason asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all.”

“No further questions,” Drew said.

“You’re excused,” Judge Erwood told the witness.

“I’m going to call Frank Ferney,” Drew said.

Ferney came forward and was sworn. “You were in the employ of Meridith Borden in his lifetime?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In what capacity?”

“Oh, sort of a general assistant. I did whatever needed to be done.”

“You took messages for him?”

“That’s right.”

“Ran errands?”

“That’s right. I did anything and everything that was required. I helped him when he’d entertain, I kept liquor glasses full, tried to keep the guests happy. I did anything that needed to be done.”

“Directing your attention to last Monday. Do you have a day off?”

“No, sir. I don’t work that way. I’m around most of the time but when I wanted to take off, I just told him I was going.”

“And what about last Monday night?”

“I told him I wouldn’t be there Monday evening until late. I said I wanted to have an evening with my girl friend.”

“And what time did you actually leave last Monday evening?”

“Six o’clock.”

“Are you acquainted with Marianna Fremont, the housekeeper?”

“Certainly.”

“Does she do the cooking?”

“When she’s there she cooks the meals.”

“Mondays are her days off?”

“That’s right.”

“Who cooks on Mondays?”

“Well, she did the cooking when we didn’t have company. Usually he had another cook come in when we were entertaining, or sometimes a caterer brought in a meal if he was entertaining quite a few people.

“When Mr. Borden and I were there alone, I’d scramble up some eggs and cook some bacon for breakfast. We’d usually have a salad for lunch, and sometimes I’d cook up some stuff Monday night. We sort of camped out on the cook’s day off unless we were entertaining. If we were, he’d get a caterer or another cook.”

“Was any meal cooked last Monday night?”

“He told me he was going to open up some canned sauerkraut and have some weenies. I was going out for dinner.”

“What time did he usually eat on Monday evening, if you know?”

“I object, if the Court please,” Mason said. “If the testimony has any bearing, it is incumbent to show what actually happened on this particular night. I object to this specific question as being incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

Drew said, “It is very important, if the Court please, to get this point established because, while the time of death can only be fixed as between eight-thirty and eleven-thirty from the temperature of the body, the development of the rigor mortis and post-mortem lividity, the time could be fixed much more accurately if we knew when the last meal was ingested.”

Judge Erwood turned to Ferney. “And that is something that you don’t know — except by referring to general custom?”

“That’s right, Your Honor. Monday night he had the house to himself. He could have gone out there at five minutes after six, after I left, and eaten, or he could have waited until eight-thirty and eaten, or he could have waited until after Ansley had finished with his appointment. I know when we usually ate on Monday night. That’s the only way I can fix the time.”

“I see,” Judge Erwood said thoughtfully. “I think I’ll sustain the defendant’s objection — as the evidence now stands.”

“I think that covers all our questions. You may cross-examine,” Drew said to Perry Mason.

“There is a wall surrounding the entire estate?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“And electric gates?”

“That’s right. They’re controlled by electricity.”

“Is there any other means of ingress and egress except through those gates?”

“There’s a back entrance.”

“And where is that?”

“That’s in back of the garage.”

“Of what does it consist?”

“It’s a heavy, solid iron gate which is kept locked at all times.”

“You have a key to it?”

“Of course.”

“The housekeeper has a key to it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, of course, Mr. Borden had a key to it?”

“Right.”

“Are there any other keys?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Is that gate wide enough for an automobile to enter?”

“No, sir, just wide enough for a person to go through. It’s a heavy, solid iron door. All the traffic comes in through the main gates. There’s a rubber tube imbedded in the ground under a movable apron there at the gate, and whenever a car drives in, it rings a bell in the house so that Mr. Borden knows someone’s coming in.”

“I see,” Mason said thoughtfully. “How did the gates close?”

“You could close them by pressing a button in the house, or the gates closed automatically with a timing device which was set for eleven o’clock, although that time could be changed.”

“How did the gates open?”

“They had to be opened by pressing a button in the house, or by manipulating a locked switch out on the driveway. If you used the switch in the driveway, the gates would open long enough for a car to go through, and then they’d automatically close again.”

“Was there some way of opening the gates from the outside?”

“Sure. There’s a switch with a key. You use the key to unlock the switch, press a button and the gates open long enough for a car to drive through, then they automatically close again.”

“You had keys to all those switches?”

“Sure.”

“And the housekeeper?”

“That’s right. She had keys, too.”

“There’s a telephone there at the gate?”

“That’s right.”

“And with what is that telephone connected?”

“That’s a private line that goes right through to the house where there are two telephones that ring whenever the button is pressed.”

“Where are those telephones located?”

“One of them is in Mr. Borden’s study, the other is in the place where I stay, my room.”

“And where is your room?”

“Down in the basement.”

“Why the two telephones?”

“Because when the gate bell rings, I pick up the receiver and ask who is there and all about it. Mr. Borden would be listening in on his extension. If it was someone Borden wanted to see, he’d then cut in and say, ‘This is Mr. Borden himself. I’ll open the gates for you and you can drive in.’ But if after a while I didn’t hear Borden saying anything like that, I’d just tell the guy that I was sorry, the gates were closed for the night, that Borden couldn’t be disturbed, and hang up.”

“The telephone at the gate connected then with just those two instruments?”

“That’s right.”

“Mr. Borden spent most of his time in this study?”

“Practically all of it.”

“What about the photographic studio?”

“He was up there some of the time, mostly at night.”

“Did you ever help him in there?”

“Not him. When he went to the studio, he was to be left alone. You didn’t disturb him in that studio.”

“He kept the door locked?”

“It had a spring lock on it.”

“Sometimes he worked with models?”

Drew said, “If the Court please, this is not proper cross-examination. It calls for matters which are entirely extraneous, and unquestionably represents simply a fishing expedition on the part of counsel.”

“The Court is inclined to agree with that statement,” Judge Erwood said. “The objection is sustained.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“No further questions,” Drew said.

Drew looked at the clock. “If the Court please, it is approaching the hour of the noon adjournment. I feel that we have presented this case expeditiously. That is our entire case. We feel we have proved the elements necessary to bind the defendant over.”

Judge Erwood said, “I think you have more than established them. You could have quit half an hour ago and still have been entitled to an order binding the defendant over. It is, therefore, the order of this Court that the defendant be bound over to—”

“May the Court please,” Mason said, getting to his feet.

Judge Erwood frowned his annoyance. “Yes, what is it, Counselor?”

Mason said, “The defense has the right to put on testimony.”

“Certainly,” Judge Erwood said. “I am not trying to foreclose you from putting on a defense, if you desire, although I may state that in hearings of this sort it is rather unusual for the defense to put on a case. Very frankly, Mr. Mason, since there is no jury present, I feel free to state that I don’t know what defense you could possibly put on which would keep the Court from binding the defendant over. You might or might not have something that would raise a reasonable doubt in the mind of a jury, but as far as this Court is concerned, the evidence is simply overwhelming that a murder was committed and that there is probable cause to believe that the defendant committed the crime.”

“Except for one thing, if the Court please,” Mason said. “There is one point which is very much in doubt.”

“I don’t see it,” Judge Erwood said somewhat testily.

“The time element,” Mason said. “If my client committed the murder, he must have done so before nine o’clock.”

“The evidence doesn’t so show.”

“Well, the evidence can be made to so show,” Mason said, “and we propose to show that Meridith Borden was alive and well a long time after nine o’clock.”

Judge Erwood stroked his chin. “Well,” he said at length, “that, of course, would be a perfect defense if you could establish it, Mr. Mason.”

“We propose to establish it.”

“How long will you take?”

“At least all afternoon,” Mason said.

Judge Erwood said, “I have rather a full calendar and I had anticipated this was a routine matter that would perhaps consume an hour, certainly not more than the entire morning.”

“I am sorry, Your Honor, I’m quite certain that I didn’t give the Court any impression that such would be the case.”

“No, you didn’t,” Judge Erwood admitted. “I guess perhaps it was due somewhat to a misunderstanding. These matters usually are disposed of rather promptly. However, I have no desire to foreclose the defendant from putting on a case. I will state this, Mr. Mason, proof of an alibi will have to be very, very clear and very, very convincing in order to keep the Court from binding the defendant over.

“You are a veteran trial attorney and are, of course, aware of the disadvantages to a defendant of putting on a defense at a preliminary examination. Now then, in the face of that statement of the Court, do you wish to proceed?”

“I do.”

“Very well,” Judge Erwood said. “I will make one more statement, which is that I have noticed in the press that in certain cases where you have appeared in a preliminary examination there have been dramatic developments, developments which in my opinion have not been justified.

“I mean no personal criticism by this. It is simply my opinion that Courts have been far too lenient with counsel in permitting a certain type of evidence to be brought into the preliminary hearing. I do not intend to foreclose any of the rights of the defendant, but, on the other hand, I certainly do not intend to open the door to a lot of extraneous matter.”

“Very well, Your Honor,” Mason said. “I wish to address my proof to the Court on the theory that if the defendant killed Meridith Borden, the crime must have been committed before nine o’clock in the evening. I think I can show conclusively that the crime was not committed prior to nine o’clock.”

“Very well,” Judge Erwood said. “The Court will take a recess and—”

“Just a moment. If I may have the indulgence of the Court,” Mason interrupted, “I dislike to interrupt, but there is one matter that may be of great importance to the defendant.”

“What is that?”

“The body of Meridith Borden was found in his photographic studio. The inference would therefore be that after his interview with the defendant, Borden went to his photographic studio to take photographs, and that therefore someone must have been with him. Borden would hardly be taking photographs of himself.”

Judge Erwood frowned. “That reasoning, Mr. Mason, is predicated entirely upon your belief in whatever story the defendant may have told you. If you propose to base your alibi on evidence of this kind, you are wasting your time.

“For all the Court knows, Meridith Borden could have been talking with the defendant, George Ansley, in the photographic studio. Borden might have been taking George Ansley’s picture.

“I am assuming that the defendant is prepared to testify that his interview took place in the study, but this Court would pay absolutely no attention to such testimony. A jury might or might not believe the defendant. As far as this Court is concerned, on a preliminary examination where it appears that a murder has been committed with the murder weapon found in the defendant’s possession, the Court is certainly not going to take the defendant’s unsupported word as proof that he was not in the room where the murder was committed.”

“I understand that, Your Honor,” Mason said, “and I am not asking the Court to take his word. I would, however, like to ask the deputy district attorney if it isn’t true that there was evidence in the studio that certain photographs had been taken that evening. If so, I wish to have those photographs produced in evidence.”

Drew said testily, “We don’t have to disclose all our evidence to the defense.”

“But were there no exposed plates?” Mason asked. “Nothing, perhaps, in the camera?”

“There were exposed plates,” Drew said, “and there was an exposed plate in the camera; but there is no indication as to when the plate was exposed.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “I feel that some of this can be connected up. If those exposed films have not been developed, I feel that they should be developed so that we can see what is on them.”

“Have those films been developed?” Judge Erwood asked Sam Drew.

“They have, Your Honor.”

“I take it,” Judge Erwood said, “that if there were photographs of the defendant, those films or prints made from those films would have been introduced in evidence.”

“That is quite correct,” Drew said testily. “The decedent, at the time of his death, was carrying on a camera contest with some of his cronies. They were having a somewhat good-natured contest to see who could get the best calendar-girl photograph. It is our opinion that the films which were in the camera had been photographed either during the day or during the preceding day. We don’t feel that there was any significance attached to Mr. Borden’s presence in the photographic studio, except that he probably went there to get these films out of the camera and develop the exposed films which he had. He probably was rather anxious to get started on his work in this contest.”

Mason said, “I’d like to suggest to the prosecution that those films be brought into court this afternoon, or at least prints from those films.”

“I see no reason for that whatever,” Drew said. “This is not a trial before a jury. The prosecution doesn’t need to disclose any more than enough evidence to show that a crime has been committed and that there is reasonable ground to believe that the defendant committed that crime.”

“That’s right,” Judge Erwood said. “But where the defense wishes to put on testimony, it does have the right to subpoena witnesses. The defense could subpoena the persons who have these films. I think you had better produce them, Mr. Drew, it will save time.”

“But they have no bearing on the case, no bearing whatever,” Drew said.

“Then you can object to their introduction in evidence. But the defendant, in a preliminary hearing, certainly has the right to subpoena witnesses on his own behalf and to introduce evidence in his own behalf.”

Drew yielded with poor grace. “Very well,” he said, “I’ll bring the pictures into court.”

Judge Erwood said, “Court will take a recess until two o’clock this afternoon.”

Mason hurried over to Paul Drake. “All right, Paul,” he said, “give the signal. Have your men serve subpoenas on Loretta Harper, Dawn Manning, Beatrice Cornell and Frank Ferney.”

Drake turned, signaled to one of his men who was in the courtroom by holding up his hand with the thumb down and four fingers extended.

“Okay,” he said to Mason. “That’s all taken care of, Perry, but I don’t see what you’re going to do except tip your hand. This judge is going to bind Ansley over, come hell or high water.”

“He isn’t going to bind him over until I’ve found out a lot more about the prosecution’s case,” Mason said. “I’m going to get just as much evidence before the Court as I can.”

“But,” Drake protested, “they’ll object on the ground that it’s immaterial, and the judge will sustain them.”

“Not after I get done, he won’t,” Mason said. “Either Loretta Harper or Dawn Manning is lying, one or the other. Dawn Manning makes a beautiful picture of sweet innocence, but the cold logic of the situation points to the fact that she probably was turned loose in the grounds at about nine o’clock, and there’s no real proof that she didn’t go to the house and remain there until after the murder was committed.”

“Go to it,” Drake said, “I still say it won’t do you any good. Sam Drew is one of the happiest men in the whole legal profession right now. He’s been able to put on a prima facie case, the judge is with him, and he feels you don’t stand a ghost of a chance of changing the judge’s mind.”

Mason grinned. “The presiding judge assigned Judge Erwood to sit on this hearing with the understanding that he would see the case was handled according to the usual cut-and-dried routine. Burger protested I’d been given too much leeway in the past.”

“Think you can beat a situation like that?” Drake asked dubiously.

Mason pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I can sure as hell try.”