The Case of the Fan-Dancer's Horse

Chapter number 18

The courtroom was stilled with an electric tension. There was that degree of silence which made even the sound of a cough seem magnified out of all proportion.

Judge Donahue said, “Gentlemen, the defendant is in court. A jury has been selected and sworn to try the case. The District Attorney has made his opening statement to the jury. Does the defense wish to make its opening statement at this time?”

Mason said, “No, Your Honor, we will reserve our opening statement until we start putting on our defense.”

“Very well. The District Attorney will call his first witness.”

“Doctor Jackson Lambert,” Burger announced.

Doctor Lambert took the stand.

Mason said, “Subject to the right of cross-examination, we will stipulate to Doctor Lambert’s professional qualifications.”

“Very well,” Burger said. “Doctor Lambert, did you perform a post-mortem upon the body of John Callender?”

“I did. Yes, sir.”

“At the time that you first saw that body, will you please explain the position and condition of the body and what you observed, if anything?”

“The body was lying partially on its right side,” Doctor Lambert said. “A sword had been pushed entirely through the body of the decedent so that some four and a half inches of the blade protruded on the other side of the body, that is, through the back. The blade had been driven in through the chest. I am talking now about what I discovered when I first saw the body.”

“Go on, Doctor.”

“Subsequently I performed a post-mortem upon the body. I determined that the cause of death was the blade which had been driven through the body. I fixed the time of death as approximately between 1:30 and 3:00 o’clock on the morning of September seventeenth, determining the time of death from the temperature of the body, the temperature of the room, the lapse rate of temperature, and several other factors.”

“Now, Doctor, did you find any foreign substance in the body near the wound, or within the chest wall?”

“I did.”

“What?”

“I found portions of a feather. Perhaps I may be permitted to explain. A feather consists of various parts. There is a central shaft, the proximal part of which is hollow and which is termed the quill. There are processes on each side of this quill which are called barbs. These barbs, in turn, have barbules, which in turn have barbicels. Microscopically these barbicels have hooks, which in turn interlock with other barbules and barbicels so as to give the feather a certain cohesive integrity.

“Now then, in the post-mortem I found portions of two plumes, easily identified as ostrich plumes because they lacked the usual barbicels and therefore the adhesion of the barbs and barbules.”

“You have those particles with you, Doctor?”

“I have, yes, sir.”

“How did you preserve them, Doctor?”

“In a test tube, floating in alcohol.”

The doctor took a small glass tube from his pocket and handed it to the district attorney.

“And these are the feathers, or the portions of the feather, which you recovered from the body of the decedent?”

“That is right.”

“We request that this be introduced in evidence as People’s Exhibit Number 1,” Burger asked.

“Any objection?” Judge Donahue asked Mason.

“No objection, Your Honor.”

“Anything else that you noticed, Doctor?”

“The hands of the decedent,” the doctor said, “were clutched about the razor-keen blade of the sword. The edge had cut deep into the fingers of both hands. One eye was partially open; one was closed. The body was fully clothed. There had been some rather extensive external hemorrhage through the back and there had been a very extensive internal hemorrhage.”

“Death was instantaneous?”

“Practically instantaneous.”

“You may inquire,” Burger said.

Mason shook his head with an appearance of the greatest indifference. “No questions,” he said. “I think the Doctor’s testimony undoubtedly covers the situation as he saw it.”

Hamilton Burger was plainly surprised. “No cross-examination?” he asked.

“No cross-examination,” Mason said, smiling, his tone indicating that after all the presence of the portions of an ostrich plume in the body was of no particular importance.

“Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “there is a portion of the proof which I would like to put on at this time so as to connect up this evidence of Doctor Lambert. I think perhaps that I will be departing from the conventional order of proof, and yet I wish to have this other evidence presented now because I wish to ask Doctor Lambert some more questions in connection with that evidence; therefore, I wish to go ahead with this phase of the case now.”

“It’s your case,” Judge Donahue said. “Go ahead and put it on any way you wish. I don’t know as there is any rule of law concerning the order of proof, except that if objection is made it is necessary to prove the corpus delicti before other aspects of the case can be introduced, and even in such case, in the absence of objection, proof can be received and connected up later.”

“Very well. I wish to call Freeman Gurley.”

Freeman Gurley, attired in overalls and jumper, walked to the witness stand with the long, easy stride of an outdoor man.

Gurley quickly answered the usual preliminary questions as to his name, occupation and residence. He was, he explained, somewhat unnecessarily in view of his wearing apparel, a farmer.

“Now then,” Hamilton Burger went on, triumphantly, “have you ever seen this defendant before, the young woman sitting there just in back of her counsel and to the right of the deputy sheriff?”

“Yes, sir, I saw her before.”

“When?”

“On the morning of September seventeenth.”

“Where was she?”

“She was at the southeast end of my ranch.”

“Now, I would like to identify your ranch a little more closely. I have here a map which I will authenticate later, but in the meantime simply as a diagram, I wish to ask you certain questions about it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Burger unrolled a map.

“Do you recognize the lines on this map; that is, do you recognize what it purports to show?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What does it show?”

“It shows the general location of my ranch. The house is marked on the map, and the road and fence are marked, and the position of the barn is marked; also the shade trees and the position of a corral near the barn.”

“And this purports to show the ranch on which you were living on the morning of September seventeenth?”

“That’s right.”

“And does this map appear to be correct?”

“It does. Yes, sir.”

“Now you say you saw the defendant at the time mentioned?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did she do?”

“She drove along this road in a car.”

“Let’s have this map hung on the blackboard,” Hamilton Burger said, “and you can step over to it and identify the places on the map as you talk. Now just go ahead.”

The map was hung up and Gurley said, “She stopped her car right about here.”

“All right, just indicate that point on the map.”

“She got out and looked around and then she opened the door on the left-hand side of the car and took out a shovel.”

“And then what did she do?”

“Then she took something else out of the car. I couldn’t see what it was. It was some sort of a black object, some sort of a case.”

“About the size and shape of a violin case?” Burger asked.

“Objected to as leading and suggestive. If the Court please, let this witness tell what he saw, not what the District Attorney would like to have had him see.”

“Objection is sustained,” Judge Donahue said, “and the Court will call attention of counsel to the fact that the vice of a leading question consists in having asked it. Sustaining an objection to a leading question really does no good, because the idea has already been implanted in the mind of the witness. Counsel will please refrain from asking leading questions except on cross-examination, or at such time as leading questions are permitted. Now proceed with the examination, Mr. Burger.”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Burger said. “Can you describe this black object, Mr. Gurley?”

“Well, it was sort of a case of some sort. Something like a gun case, only it wasn’t. It was black and different shaped from a gun case.”

“Very well. What happened?”

“This young woman put these things over the fence and then — and then, well she just pulled her skirts — way up.”

“And what did she do then?”

“She climbed up over the barbed-wire fence.”

“What do you mean when you say she climbed the fence?”

“She put one of her hands on the top of a wooden post and climbed up the strands of barbed wire just like it was a ladder. Then when she got to the top she put one foot on the top strand of barbed wire and vaulted over to the ground on the other side.”

“Then what did she do?”

“Then she picked up this case and the shovel, she went over and dug a hole, took something out of the case, put it in the hole, covered it up and then went back to the car.”

“Then what?”

“She put the shovel and the case in the car, got in the car and drove away.”

“And what did you do?”

“I waited until she had gone and then I went down to the place where she had been digging and dug up what she had buried.”

“And what did you find?”

“An ostrich-plume fan that had been soaked in blood and...”

“Just a minute, just a minute,” Hamilton Burger said. “Don’t testify as an expert, Mr. Gurley. You don’t know that the fan had been soaked in blood. That’s a matter for the doctors to testify to. Just tell us what you found.”

“Well, I found a fan.”

“And what did you do with it?”

“I rang up the sheriff’s office and told them what I had found, and the sheriff came out with some man and picked up the fan.”

“That man was Lieutenant Tragg, of the metropolitan Homicide Squad?”

“I believe it was, yes, sir. He was introduced to me as Lieutenant Tragg.”

“Would you know that fan if you saw it again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you do anything to this fan before you turned it over to Lieutenant Tragg and the sheriff?”

“Do anything to it? No.”

“I mean, did you do anything so you could identify it?”

“Oh yes, at the suggestion of Lieutenant Tragg I wrote my initials on it.”

With something of a flourish, Hamilton Burger reached under the counsel table, took out a long suitcase, opened it, took out a fan and handed it to the witness. “Have you ever seen this fan before?”

“Yes, sir, that is the fan I dug up. My initials are on it.”

Burger said, “Your Honor, I will connect this fan up later. At the moment I wish it marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Number 2.”

He turned to Perry Mason and snapped, “Cross-examine!”

Mason walked over to the map, said, “Let me get the scale of this map. Oh yes — now let’s see... Let’s measure this... Oh yes, it seems to be some one thousand feet from your house to this place where the fan was buried. Is that right?”

“About three hundred yards, I would say.”

“And do you mean to say that you recognized this defendant from a distance of three hundred yards?”

Hamilton Burger turned to the jury and let the jurors see the broad, triumphant grin which now suffused his countenance.

“Yes, sir,” the witness said.

“Are your eyes any better than the average?” Mason asked. “Do you have better vision, better eyesight?”

“I don’t think so. No.”

“Then how did you recognize the defendant at that distance?”

“With the aid of a pair of seven-power binoculars,” the witness said.

Hamilton Burger threw back his head and chuckled audibly.

Mason showed no discomfiture. “Exactly,” he said, as though he had been expecting such an answer. “You had binoculars. Now this episode took place early in the morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The sun was up?”

“Well, the sun was just... Well, I won’t say that the sun was up.”

“It may have been before sunup?”

“Yes.”

“And the magnification of the binoculars was seven power?”

“That’s right. Seven by fifties they were. The way I figure that out, that gives me a magnification of seven diameters. We’ll say that it’s a thousand feet in round figures. That gives me the same kind of a view that I’d have at about a hundred and forty-some feet.”

“Provided the conditions of visibility were perfect and not taking into consideration the amount of light which is absorbed by the binocular lenses themselves,” Mason pointed out.

“Well anyway, I could see her plain enough to recognize her. I saw her just as plain as day.”

“And you watched her burying the fan?”

“That’s right.”

Burger’s grin was visible now to those in the courtroom as he swung about in his swivel chair, quite evidently enjoying this cross-examination.

“You were up, getting ready to do your farm work?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“And where were you, in the kitchen or in the...”

“In the kitchen.”

“You’d finished breakfast, or were just eating breakfast?”

“Just finishing up.”

“You’re a married man?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And your wife was there in the kitchen?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now do you want this jury to understand,” Mason asked, accusingly, “that during all of this time when you were looking at these goings on through the binoculars, your wife didn’t ask to take the binoculars or that you were so selfish you didn’t let her see anything of what was going on?”

“Well...” The witness hesitated. “Yes, she had them part of the time.”

“How much of the time?”

“Well, she took them after we saw the girl get over t fence.”

“Oh yes,” Mason said, “and did she give them back you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“After a few seconds.”

“You saw the girl get over the fence?”

“That’s right.”

“And then your wife took the binoculars?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And who had the binoculars while the girl was digging the hole?”

“The wife did.”

“Who had the binoculars while the girl was opening the case?”

“The wife did.”

“Who had the binoculars while the girl was putting something which she took out of the black case into the hole she had dug?”

“The missus.”

“Who had the binoculars while the girl was covering up the hole?”

“The missus.”

“Who had the binoculars when the girl started toward the fence?”

“I did.”

“Who had the binoculars when the girl pulled up her skirts and got over the fence the second time?”

“The wife.”

“Who had the binoculars when the girl got in the car and drove away?”

“I did.”

“Then how,” Mason said, “can you tell what the girl was doing while she was putting something in this hole? How can you tell where she got the thing that she took from the black case...”

“All the time the wife had the binoculars she kept on telling me what she was seeing through them.”

“So what you are now testifying to is predicated on what your wife told you?”

“Sure.”

There was no longer any smile on Hamilton Burger’s face.

“I move to strike out all parts of this witness’s testimony relating to the young woman taking an object from the case and putting it in the hole that had been dug in the ground, because it now appears that evidence is hearsay,” Mason said.

Judge Donahue pursed his lips, “I’m afraid the Court is going to have to grant that motion, Mr. Burger.”

“Just a moment,” Burger said, desperately. “May I ask a few questions on redirect examination?”

“In order to try and clarify the situation as it now exists?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Apparently, Mr. Burger,” Judge Donahue said, “the motion of the defendant as the evidence now stands is well taken. The portions of the testimony that counsel has moved to strike out are plainly hearsay testimony. That motion will be granted. Now you have the right, on redirect examination, to bring out any additional facts you can or facts by way of explanation.”

“Very well, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, savagely, making no attempt to conceal his displeasure at the turn of events. “Mr. Gurley, all the time that your wife had the binoculars, what were you doing?”

“I was standing right beside her, listening to what she said.”

“Never mind anything about listening to your wife,” Burger snapped. “Tell me where you were standing.”

“Right behind her.”

“And she was at a window?”

“Yes.”

“Then you could look through the window and see what was taking place?”

“Yes.”

“Then you, yourself, saw this young woman...”

“Just a moment,” Mason interrupted. “We’re getting into leading questions again.”

“That’s right,” Judge Donahue said. “I feel that it would be very prejudicial to have counsel lead the witness at this point.”

“All right,” Burger snapped, “what did you do?”

“I looked out of the window.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw what was going on.”

“Then you weren’t testifying to hearsay evidence at all,” Burger said. “You were testifying to what you saw, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then you saw her...”

“Kindly don’t lead the witness,” Judge Donahue said curtly.

“Well, what did you see?”

“Well, I saw her do everything I’ve described.”

“Now cross-examine again, if you wish,” Burger shot out at Mason.

“You were standing behind your wife?” Mason asked.

“That’s right.”

“Looking over your wife’s head?”

“Yes.”

Mason said, “Now at those times when you did not have the binoculars, you were watching this young woman do certain things at a distance of something over a thousand feet.”

“Well, I put it around nine hundred feet, around three hundred yards.”

“Let’s scale it on the map and find out how far it is,” Mason said.

He took a rule from his pocket, scaled off the distance and said, “I make it one thousand and forty-two feet.”

“I didn’t think it was that far.”

“The map says it’s that far,” Mason said, “and you’ve already testified the map is correct. I take it that the map is correct. Let’s assume that it was one thousand and forty-two feet, at any rate, over a thousand feet. Now you were looking at what was going on before daylight at a distance of over one thousand feet?”

“Yes.”

“Now,” Mason said, “when your wife was looking through the binoculars, she had raised the window?”

“She didn’t raise the window, I did.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “In using binoculars, you get a distorted view if you look through plain window glass, do you not?”

“Yes. And the glass was pretty dusty. We’d had rain and wind and the missus hadn’t got around to washing windows.”

“So you raised the lower pane of the window?”

“That’s right.”

“And when you were looking over your wife’s shoulders you were considerably higher than she was?” Mason asked.

“And your wife was sitting in a chair by the open window?”

“That’s right.”

“Steadying the binoculars by resting her elbows on the window sill?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must have been looking out through the upper part of the window.”

“I was.”

“But if you had raised the window,” Mason said, “then the lower part of the window was raised so that it was adjacent to the upper part of the window, so that you were then looking through two thicknesses of window glass.”

“Yes, I guess I was.”

“And do you want the jury to understand that you now claim that you could identify this defendant and follow her every move while you were watching her through two thicknesses of dirty, dusty windowpane glass before it was broad daylight at a distance of one thousand and forty-two feet?”

The witness squirmed. “Well, I had already seen her through the binoculars.”

“That’s right, but as far as the rest of it is concerned, you don’t know who it was that was out there, do you?”

“Well, it must have been the same person that I saw through the binoculars.”

“But you can’t swear that it was the same person.”

“Well, no, I can’t swear to it.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“But you do know that it must have been the same person,” Burger shouted.

“Tut, tut,” Mason said. “There we go with those leading questions again.”

“Well, it’s a foregone conclusion,” Burger said, irritably. “The witness knows no one else took her place and... It’s purely a mathematical conclusion, Your Honor.”

“Let it stay a mathematical conclusion then,” Judge Donahue said. “You’re coming dangerously close to the border line, Counselor.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I’m sorry.”

“Try and be more careful. Call your next witness.”

“I want Doctor Jackson Lambert to take the stand again for a few questions,” Burger said, his face still flushed with anger.

Doctor Lambert returned to the stand.

“Calling your attention to this fan which has been identified by the witness Gurley, whose testimony I take it you heard, Doctor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I ask you if you have previously seen this fan.”

“I have, yes, sir.”

“And you made some study of it?”

“I have, yes, sir.”

“What sort of a study?”

“A microscopic examination of the feathers and all of the various parts. A chemical examination for human bloodstains.”

“Now, Doctor, I want you to hold the fan partially open and in front of you, so that it screens your eyes. Now, Doctor, when you have done this, near the base of the fan do you observe any distinguishing mark?”

“I do, yes, sir.”

“What is that mark?”

“There is a wedge-shaped cut in one of the quills.”

“Is that cut such as would have been made in the event a sharp sword of the dimensions of the sword which you found in the body of the decedent had been thrust through the fan at that point?”

“Objected to,” Mason said, “on the ground that the question is argumentative, that it calls for a conclusion of the witness upon a subject which is not proper medical examination, or properly the subject for an expert witness. It is one of the questions which the jurors will be called on to decide after the evidence is in. It is an attempt to interpret evidence rather than to reach a subject within the legitimate province of expert or medical opinion.”

“Sustained,” Judge Donahue said.

“Very well,” Burger said with some exasperation. “I will now call your attention, Doctor, to the feathery projections coming out from this quill, and I will ask you if you have made a microscopic examination of the bits of feather in the test tube which has been introduced as People’s Exhibit Number 1, and the corresponding portions of feather which are adjacent to this V-shaped cut in the quill.”

“I have, yes, sir.”

“What did you find?”

“I found that so far as could be ascertained, they were absolutely identical in color, context and composition.”

“What are the slightly reddish brown stains on this fan, Doctor?”

“Those are blood stains.”

“What sort of blood, Doctor?”

“Human blood.”

“Cross-examine,” Burger snapped at Mason.

“You say that the bits of feather which you recovered from the body of the decedent were exactly the same in three particulars, Doctor?”

“That’s right.”

“What were those particulars?”

“Color, context and composition.”

“That sounds rather formidable, Doctor,” Mason observed conversationally. “Now as to color, the color, I believe, is white.”

“That’s right.”

“Did you ever see an ostrich-plume fan used by a fan-dancer which wasn’t white?”

“Well, no.”

“All right,” Mason said. “Then, so far as color is concerned, the color was exactly the same as that of every other fan you have ever seen used by any fan-dancer. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, I guess.”

“Now as far as context is concerned, what do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean it was of the same substance as this feather on this fan.”

“And, by the same sign, the same context as any other ostrich plume. You didn’t try to differentiate between ostrich plumes, did you?”

“No.”

“Did you compare these bits of feather, which you recovered from the wound, with any other ostrich plume?”

“No, sir.”

“Only with ostrich plumes from this fan?”

“That’s right.”

“So in short, Doctor, while your testimony on these three particulars sounds rather convincing when you use the technical terms, the fact remains that what you mean is that this fan is composed of ostrich feathers; that the bits of feather you found in the body of the decedent came, in your opinion, from an ostrich plume, and that’s all you know, is that right?”

“Well... well, if you want to put it that way, I guess that’s about the size of it.”

“In other words, for all you know those bits of feather could have come from any other ostrich plume in the world?”

“Well, of course, there’s this cut in the quill of this fan which could have been made...”

“Could have been made by any kind of a knife at any time, isn’t that right, Doctor?”

“Well, it was made by a sharp knife and the indications are that it was a blade that tapered at a certain angle.”

“You don’t know with what type of blade that was made?”

“Well, of course you can guess...”

“Exactly, Doctor, and we don’t want guesswork. We want facts. There’s only a cut in that quill. It isn’t a section that has been removed, therefore you have no way of knowing the exact slope of the sides of the blade.”

“Well, I guess not.”

“Therefore, that cut could have been made by any knife?”

“Well... well, yes, I guess so.”

“There’s nothing to indicate the time at which the cut was made?”

“No, sir.”

“So this cut could have been made at any time by any knife?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the bits of feather which you found in the body of the decedent could have come from any ostrich plume. Is that right?”

“Put it that way if you want to.”

“I’ve already put it that way. Answer the question. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” the Doctor said, thoroughly exasperated.

“And that’s all,” Mason said, smiling at the jury.

And it was significant that two or three of the jurors unashamedly smiled back.

Quite apparently Hamilton Burger had intended to build up his case in such a way that the jurors would be prejudiced against the defendant right at the start of the case. Now that this attempt had failed to accomplish its purpose, the District Attorney fell back upon the routine procedure. He proved the identity of the dead body, he introduced photographs showing the body as it had been found in the hotel room. Then, once more, he built to a dramatic climax as the clock showed it was approaching the hour of adjournment.

“Call Samuel Meeker,” he said.

Samuel Meeker took the stand, gave his full name, his age, residence, and his occupation as being that of a hotel employee.

“In what capacity are you employed by the hotel?” the District Attorney asked.

“House detective, sir.”

“What hotel?”

“The Richmell Hotel.”

“That was the hotel where the body of John Callender was found?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now were you so employed as house detective on September the sixteenth and September seventeenth?”

“I was, yes, sir.”

“Directing your attention particularly to events which transpired early in the morning of the seventeenth. Can you tell us anything of what happened?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened?”

“Well, at twenty minutes past two in the morning this young woman appeared in the lobby of the hotel.”

“Now when you say ‘this young woman’ who do you mean?”

“The young woman sitting there.”

“You are pointing at the defendant, Lois Fenton?”

“That’s right. Yes, sir.”

“Then she is the one you mean when you say that ‘this young woman appeared in the lobby of the hotel’?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

“And what did she do?”

“She started toward the elevators.”

“And what happened?”

“I spoke to her and asked her if she had a room in the hotel and she said she didn’t, but that she wanted to see someone who did have a room in the hotel. In view of the fact that it was an exceedingly late and unusual hour for a woman to be paying a call on any person who had a room in the hotel, I insisted that she tell me the name of the party.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said it was John Callender.”

“And what did you do?”

“I asked her if John Callender was expecting her, and she said he was, so then I insisted that she accompany me over to the house telephones and I picked up the receiver and asked for Mr. Callender’s room.”

“What happened?”

“After a moment Mr. Callender said hello, and I immediately handed the telephone over to this young lady.”

“Now let’s have one thing definitely understood,” Burger said. “Whenever you mention ‘this young woman,’ to whom are you referring?”

“To the defendant, Lois Fenton, sitting there.”

“All right, you refer to the defendant here, Lois Fenton.”

“That’s right.”

“Now, you handed her the receiver as soon as you heard John Callender answer the phone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, of course I could hear only one end of the conversation.”

“I understand. Go on.”

“Well, this young woman, that is Lois Fenton, the defendant there, said that she was in the lobby, that she had been having some trouble with a house detective who had stopped her and wanted to be sure that she had an appointment; that the house detective had been the one who had placed the call, and that she would be right up.”

“You didn’t hear what reply Callender made to that?”

“No, I just heard her make the statement that she’d be right up. Then she hung up the phone. Apparently it was all right. However, as far as I was concerned, she had been announced and that was all I cared about. You understand, Mr. Callender was sort of a privileged person around the hotel; that is, he could do things that transient tenants couldn’t. You see, in a hotel of that sort we’re anxious to make the guests comfortable, but we also want to be sure that there is nothing offensive to the other guests, particularly noisy parties and things like that. Well, Mr. Callender was always a very fine tenant so far as things of that sort were concerned. He was quite a nighthawk and would do business until late at night, having people come in to see him at all hours. Sometimes at two and three o’clock in the morning, sometimes even later, but he was always very discreet and never made any racket, and we never had any complaints.”

“I gather that Mr. Callender kept a room there permanently?”

“Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Now the defendant hung up the telephone and then what did she do?”

“Walked to the elevators and went up to the fifth floor.”

“How do you know it was the fifth floor?”

“I watched the indicator to make certain that was where she got off.”

“Was she carrying anything in her hand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What?”

“A black violin case.”

“Did it seem to be heavy or light — from the way she was carrying it?”

“Objected to,” Mason said. “The question, if Your Honor please, calls for a conclusion of the witness and opinion evidence.”

“Objection sustained.”

“Do you know when she came down?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“At a little after 2:33. I happened to look at the clock as she came out.”

“Now, did you have any unusual experiences on the fifth floor of that hotel during the early hours of the morning of September seventeenth?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“What happened?”

“Around thirty-five minutes past two o’clock in the morning I went up to the fifth floor.”

“Then that must have been within a minute or two after the defendant left?”

“It was, yes, sir.”

“You went up to the fifth floor. For what purpose?”

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial,” Mason said.

“Sustained.”

“Well, you did go up to the fifth floor?”

“Yes.”

“And when you left the elevator,” Burger said, his manner showing his exasperation, “did you turn toward John Callender’s room or in the other direction?”

“I turned toward John Callender’s room.”

“And where did you go?”

“I didn’t go only a few steps. I happened to notice that the door of the mop closet was partially ajar. I opened it and found a Mr. Faulkner in there. Mr. Faulkner told me that he was a...”

“Never mind what Mr. Faulkner told you. I just want to show by you that you found Mr. Faulkner there in the closet at that time.”

“That’s right, I did.”

“Now, then, at any time during the morning did you change places with Mr. Faulkner; that is, did you enter the mop closet?”

“I did. Yes, sir.”

“When was that?”

“That was at approximately three minutes past three o’clock in the morning.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I did it to watch the corridor.”

“Why were you watching the corridor?”

“Mr. Faulkner had been watching the corridor.”

“Never mind about Mr. Faulkner. I’m asking you what you did.”

“Yes, sir. At approximately three minutes past three o’clock in the morning, or perhaps four minutes past three o’clock in the morning, by the time I actually got off the elevator, I went up and took my place in the mop closet and started watching the corridor.”

“What part of the corridor?”

“The corridor on the fifth floor which led to the room occupied by John Callender.”

“Did you see anything? That is, did you see anyone go into or leave the room occupied by John Callender?”

“No, sir. I did not.”

“You may cross-examine,” Burger said.

“Are you absolutely positive that the woman you saw there in the lobby was this defendant?” Mason asked on cross-examination.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

“You identified her at the police station?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where was she?”

“She was marched into what is known as a shadow box, with some five or six other women, all of them about the same age and about the same size and build.”

“And you identified her?”

“Yes, sir, I identified her positively and absolutely at that time.”

“And you have seen her since?”

“Several times, yes, sir.”

“You’ve talked with her?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You had never seen this young woman before that time she appeared in the lobby of the Richmell Hotel on the morning of the seventeenth?”

“Not to the best of my knowledge, no, sir.”

“And you didn’t see her again until after she was in police custody?”

“I saw her when she went out of the hotel.”

“I understand. You saw her come in and you saw her go out, but you didn’t see her again after that until you were called upon to identify her in that shadow box, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“When was this?”

“On the eighteenth. The day after the murder.”

“And you identified the defendant?”

“I did. Yes, sir.”

“You’re absolutely positive that there can be no mistake in your identification?”

“Positive, yes, sir.”

“You wear glasses?”

“I do. Yes, sir.”

“You had those glasses on on the morning of the seventeenth?”

“I did, yes, sir.”

“And again on the eighteenth when you identified the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No further cross-examination,” Mason said.

“No further direct. That’s all, Mr. Meeker,” Burger said. “If the Court please, I believe I have time for one more witness. At least I can start with him.”

“Very well, go ahead. We’ll work right on until five o’clock,” Judge Donahue said.

“Call Frank Faulkner,” Burger snapped.

Frank Faulkner came forward, was sworn, testified to his name and to his occupation, the fact that he was acquainted with Perry Mason, that he was employed by the Drake Detective Agency and that early on the morning of the seventeenth he had been instructed to proceed to the Richmell Hotel and establish himself in a position where he could observe the corridor; that he had arrived at the hotel on the morning of the seventeenth at approximately twenty minutes past two; that he had taken up his position in the mop closet and had no sooner established himself there than he saw a man emerge from room 511, which was occupied by John Callender, and rush across the hall to enter the room numbered 510, that being the room directly opposite; that at approximately two twenty-two and a half the defendant, Lois Fenton, had left the elevator, walked down the hall and gone into room 511; that she had been in there for just a little over nine minutes, leaving the room at 2:33, and getting in the elevator a few seconds later; that at 2:44 a man whom he did not know at the time, but whom he subsequently had learned was Jasper Fenton, left the elevator, entered room 511 and came out almost immediately, hurried back down the corridor to the elevator and went out; that at two minutes past three Arthur Sheldon, the occupant of room 510, had checked out and had gone down to the lobby; that pursuant to arrangements the witness had made with the house detective as soon as Arthur Sheldon checked out, the house detective came up to relieve the witness and the witness went down to the desk where he was able to secure room 510; that thereafter he returned to room 510 and from that point of vantage kept watch on the room across the corridor; that no person went into that room or left that room until after he had been joined by another operative, at which time he had lain down on the bed.

He looked at Mason meaningly as he made this last statement, apparently trying to indicate to the lawyer that he had deliberately refrained from telling the police anything about Mason’s visit to the room where the body had been found. The witness then went on to state that at about 5:30 A.M. Harvey Julian, the other detective in the employ of the Drake Detective Agency, had come to relieve him.

“And you are positive that the person whom you saw leaving the elevator at approximately two twenty-two and a half and going down to John Callender’s room was this defendant, Lois Fenton?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“I am, yes, sir.”

“And how about the person who subsequently emerged from that room and went down the corridor toward the elevator?”

“The same person.”

“Was that person carrying anything?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What?”

“A black violin case.”

“At the time she walked down the corridor to the room?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And at the time she came back?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cross-examine,” Burger said.

“To the best of your knowledge, you had never seen the defendant before that time?” Mason asked.

“That’s right, I had never seen her.”

“You remember describing what had taken place to me in an oral report which you made?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That was when the facts were more fresh in your mind?”

“They were fresh in my mind then, and they’re fresh in my mind now.”

“But they were more fresh at that time?”

“Perhaps. I suppose they must have been. Not that I can see it makes any difference.”

“But they were?”

“Well... yes, they were.”

“All right. Now at that time when you described the person who walked down the corridor to me, didn’t you say that the thing you mainly noticed about her was her legs?”

“No, sir. I don’t think I did.”

“Didn’t you say in describing her that she appeared to be two-thirds stockings?”

“Well, I guess I did.”

“And do you want this jury to understand that under those circumstances you weren’t looking at her legs?”

Faulkner shifted his position, grinned, and said, “I looked her all over.”

“When did you next see this defendant?”

“On the eighteenth when she walked into the shadow box.”

“Who was present at that time?”

“Sergeant Dorset, another detective, and Sam Meeker, the house detective of the Richmell Hotel.”

“Anyone else?”

“No, sir, that’s all. There was a police officer who kept records, sitting over by the entrance to the shadow box.”

“Just describe that shadow box, if you will, please.”

“Well, it’s a brilliantly lighted stage, with lines ruled along the back of it, lines that enable you to tell a person’s height. There’s a line for five feet, and then there are lines for every inch above five feet up until six feet seven.”

“And you say this is brilliantly lighted?”

“That’s right.”

“What else?”

“There’s a curtain of white material, something like cheesecloth only it isn’t cheesecloth, that hangs down in front and that’s lighted. Then the room in which the officers sit is dark so that the person who is being identified can’t tell who is out there on the other side of the curtain. The persons to be identified are brought into the box and made to walk around a little bit and talk.”

“What about?”

“It doesn’t make any difference. Just talk so that the people who are watching can hear the sound of the voice and detect the mannerisms of speaking.”

“And you saw the defendant in that box?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On the eighteenth?”

“That’s right.”

“And identified her?”

“Absolutely.”

“And you say Samuel Meeker was there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He identified her?”

“He did, both of us together identified her.”

“Without any hesitancy?”

“Without any hesitancy.”

“You noticed the way she was dressed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You knew that those were the same clothes the person whom you had seen in the hotel corridor early in the morning of the seventeenth was wearing?”

“That’s right. Yes, sir.”

“The same legs?” Mason asked.

The witness grinned. “The same legs.”

“You heard her voice?”

“Well, now, wait a minute,” the witness said. “I heard her voice, but I don’t think that I heard it clearly the first time I saw her in the shadow box.”

“There was more than one occasion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was the occasion of having her return to the shadow box?”

“There was some question in Sergeant Dorset’s mind, I believe, about the way she acted. There was an argument...”

“I object,” Hamilton Burger said. “I’ve let this examination ramble far afield, Your Honor, in the interest of saving time, but this witness certainly cannot testify as to what was in the mind of Sergeant Dorset. That is something Sergeant Dorset can testify to, if it is pertinent. This witness cannot testify to it.”

“That’s right,” Judge Donahue said. “The objection is sustained. It is, at best, a conclusion of the witness.”

“Sergeant Dorset himself told me...”

“That makes no difference,” Judge Donahue said. “That’s only hearsay.”

“Well,” Mason asked, “did you yourself notice anything?”

“I noticed that the first time she entered the shadow box she hadn’t talked clearly. She’d been rather sullen and non-cooperative and kept her head down and Sergeant Dorset didn’t like the appearance she’d made. He said that the officer who was on duty at the time... well, I guess I’m not allowed to testify to the things they said.”

“There was an argument?” Mason asked.

“I’ll say there was, and finally the man in charge said to Sergeant Dorset, ‘Well, if you think you can do it any better, suppose you try it,’ or something like that, and Dorset said by gosh he would, and then he had the girl brought back.”

“You had been waiting in the shadow room all the time?”

“No, no, we’d been out talking in the police station and then before we went home Dorset said he didn’t like the way the girl had been put in the shadow box and asked us to excuse him a while, and we sat there and waited for about fifteen or twenty minutes, or maybe a little longer, and then Dorset came back and said the more he thought of it the less satisfied he became. Then he sent for the officer who had been in charge of the shadow box and they had quite an argument.”

“All this, of course,” Hamilton Burger said, “is purely hearsay as to what Sergeant Dorset said. I objected to it before, but it seems it will take less time to let the witness get it out of his system.”

“Do you wish to move to strike it out?”

“I don’t,” Burger said, “although it has no place cluttering up the record. I just want the jury to realize it’s hearsay and utterly irrelevant.”

“Move to strike it out and it’ll go out,” Judge Donahue said.

“Oh, leave it in,” Burger said, magnanimously, waving his hand as though he were perfectly willing to surrender all technicalities in the interests of getting speedy justice and a fair verdict.

Mason, interested, asked the witness, “Was there some bitterness between these police officers?”

“There certainly was.”

“Good Lord,” Hamilton Burger said, “this is so far afield it isn’t even connected by the most remote link of hearsay speculation.”

“It certainly is not proper cross-examination,” Judge Donahue rebuked. “Counsel is entitled to show the circumstances under which the identification took place, but irrelevant communications between police officers concerning the manner in which police procedure is carried out certainly can have no bearing on this case. However, gentlemen, I see that it has now reached the hour of five o’clock, which is the hour of the evening adjournment, and I’m going to remand the defendant. The jury will be in the custody of the sheriff. I take it arrangements have been made for hotel accommodations, Sheriff?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Very well,” the Court said, “I will swear you to faithfully keep the jury in your custody and charge.”

Judge Donahue swore the sheriff, then turned to the jurors and said, “You jurors are particularly cautioned not to form or express any opinion as to the merits of the controversy or the guilt or innocence of the defendant until all of the evidence is before you. You are warned not to discuss this case among yourselves, or permit it to be discussed in your presence. You will not separate, nor permit yourselves to be addressed. You will be in the custody of the sheriff. Every attempt will be made to make you comfortable, but until this case is finished you will of necessity be in the custody of the sheriff. Inasmuch as any violation of my instructions would be reason for a mistrial which would be expensive to the state and might well jeopardize the rights of the parties, I am asking you to cooperate with me in order to see that nothing of this sort occurs. Court is adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Mason, leaving his seat at the defendant’s counsel table, walked rapidly up to the clerk’s desk. “Let me take a look at that fan, will you please?”

He carefully examined the fan which had been introduced in evidence, then turned back to where Lois Fenton was standing by the side of the deputy.

“Just a moment,” Mason said to the deputy. “I want to talk with my client for a moment, please.”

He took Lois Fenton’s arm, escorted her over a few feet out of earshot, said in a low voice, “I notice that fan was made by a firm in St. Louis. Are all fans used by fan-dancers made there?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Because,” Mason said, “I found two fans in an automobile. I advertised them and Cherie Chi-Chi claimed them. She described them perfectly and I turned them over to her. She...”

Lois Fenton became excited. “Was this fan one of them?”

“I’m quite certain it was.”

“It’s one of my fans. I’m very much attached to it. I have my initials stamped in gold on the bottom part.”

“I noticed,” Mason said. “I feel quite certain this is one of the fans that I turned over to Cherie Chi-Chi only a few hours before the murder. How did you happen to lose it?”

“I didn’t lose it. They were at the ranch. John had taken them for safekeeping. When I left, I tried to get the fans, and he wouldn’t give them to me, so I had to buy other fans. They weren’t what I wanted — and I’ve always had a feeling that these fans brought me luck. That’s why John gave them to Irene.”

Mason said, “The thing becomes important, Lois. If we can prove that this is one of the fans that was turned over to Irene and that you didn’t see it again until...”

Mason’s voice trailed off into silence.

“Yes?” she asked.

Mason shook his head. “That story about how you came by the fan is too damn fantastic. It just doesn’t ring true.”

“But it’s the truth, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said, “Well, truth or not, one thing’s certain. It’s exceedingly important to show that this fan was not in your possession at the time the murder was committed. You hadn’t seen it from the time you left your husband until... Damn it, I wish there were some logical way of accounting for the manner in which that fan came into your possession... and trying to bury it. That evidence hangs you. What about this shadow box business?” Mason asked. “Were you put in the shadow box twice?”

“That’s right. They put me in the box twice.”

“And the second time was within half an hour of the first time?”

“I would say just about half an hour. But they’re wrong about saying that I was sulky. I wasn’t.”

Mason said, “Well, the important thing is to find out why they put you back in the shadow box the second time. What the police argument was about. Of course, you couldn’t see anything on the other side of that curtain?”

“No. The lights are on that curtain so that it completely dazzles your eyes. You can’t see anything at all in the room outside. You get a faint suggestion of motion in the darkness; that is, you know that people are cut there, but you can’t see them. You can’t tell how many people or who they are, or anything about them.”

“When did they put you in the shadow box, Lois?”

“The first time was almost immediately after I’d been arrested. They picked me up in... well you know, in your car.”

Mason nodded.

“And they rushed me up to the jail and then before they booked me or anything they rushed me into this shadow box. Then they took me out and fingerprinted me and all that stuff. I guess that’s what they call ‘booking a prisoner.’ ”

Again Mason nodded.

“And then they took me back to the shadow box the second time.”

“It may have been someone’s idea that they didn’t have any right to put you in the shadow box before you were booked,” Mason said. “I can’t figure it. However, it was just one of those things that happen. I’d just like to know why it was done.”

“You don’t think it’s the reason that Sergeant Dorset gave?”

“I don’t know,” Mason said. “The thing I do know is that burying that fan absolutely crucifies you. You’ve got to account for that or you’re a gone goose.”

“I guess I’m a gone goose, then,” she said, attempting to smile. “I told you all about the fan. Arthur gave it to me.”

“You can’t make a jury believe that story, Lois.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t even make me believe it, and I’m your lawyer.”

Without a word she turned away and said to the deputy, “I’m ready.”