The Case of the Glamorous Ghost

Chapter number 14

Mason, Della Street and Paul Drake sat huddled in the restaurant booth, engaged in low-voiced conversation.

“What are you going to do?” Drake asked.

“I’m damned if I know,” Mason said, “but I’ve got to do something and I’ve got to do it fast. The way things stand right now there isn’t a whisper of a chance.”

The waiter came and presented the check. “Everything all right?” he asked.

“Everything was fine,” Mason said.

“To look at you you’d never know you were going to have to go into court and let Hamilton Burger cut your throat,” Paul Drake said.

“And it didn’t affect your appetite any,” Della Street observed.

“I didn’t dare to let it affect my appetite,” Mason said. “Food makes energy. I didn’t eat heavy food but I ate food that will furnish me with a little fuel to last through the afternoon — and it’s going to be some afternoon.”

“Can’t you let Eleanor go on the stand and tell her story no matter how utterly incredible it sounds?” Paul Drake asked.

Mason shook his head.

“Well then, couldn’t you work a razzle-dazzle that would sound plausible? Couldn’t you sketch Suzanne Granger as a sinister character? Couldn’t you cast her in the role of a smuggler who had paint tubes full of gems?

“Suppose Eleanor got those gems? Then Suzanne would do anything to get them back. Suppose Eleanor gave them to Doug Hepner? Well, there you have motive and opportunity. Hell’s bells, Perry, give this Granger dame a working over on cross-examination, sneer at her, question her great love of art, insinuate she’s a smuggler. Ask her why she didn’t report this vandalism to the police. Give her hell.”

Mason shook his head.

“Why not?” Drake asked.

“Because,” Mason said, “it isn’t the truth.”

“Don’t be naïve,” Drake said. “A lot of criminal lawyers I know don’t pay much attention to the truth. Often when the truth would get a client stuck a good lawyer has to resort to something else.”

“I’m afraid of anything that isn’t the truth,” Mason said. “My client tells me a story that’s almost impossible to believe, but it’s her story. If I, as her attorney, adhere to that story I at least am being true to the ideals of my profession. I may think it’s a lie, but I don’t know it’s a lie.

“If, however, I think up some synthetic story, then I know it’s false and I’m afraid of anything that’s false. A lawyer should seek the truth.”

“But your client’s story, from what I gather about it, can’t be true,” Drake said.

“Then,” Mason said, “it’s up to me to seek out the truth.”

“But the reason she’s lying is that the truth is something she can’t face.”

“You mean she killed him?”

“It could be that. Or it may be she’s trapped by a whole series of events so that the truth would betray her.”

“If she killed him, that’s her funeral. If she didn’t then only the truth can save her. Her fear of the truth is that a jury won’t believe it. It’s my duty to uncover the truth and then see that the jury knows it is the truth and believes it.”

“Yes,” Drake said sarcastically. “It’s up to you to try to cast Ethel Belan in the role of a liar and Suzanne Granger in the role of a smuggler, with Eleanor taking the part of a pure maiden who is being persecuted. Look where that leaves you.”

“There’s something about the way Eleanor does things that destroys all confidence in her. The Granger woman radiates truth and integrity on the witness stand. She’s proud and aristocratic. She scorns subterfuge and her record is as clean as a hound’s tooth.

“On the other hand, there’s Eleanor who pulled all this stuff of flashing guns around, who lied about being married, who made statements that she was going to kill the man she loved so that nobody else could have him in case she couldn’t have him, and betraying herself every time she opened her mouth. Then the minute she goes on the stand and admits that she knew Doug had been killed with her own gun and... well, there you are.”

Paul Drake looked at his watch. “Well, Perry,” he said, “I guess we’re going to have to shuffle on up to the execution chamber. I certainly hate to see Hamilton Burger hand you one, but this is the time he’s really done it.”

“A made-to-order case,” Mason admitted. “No wonder Hamilton Burger was so damned happy. He’s been laying for this for years. This is the time he has everything his way.”

“But what are you going to do, Chief?” Della Street asked.

“I don’t know,” Mason admitted. “Eleanor is my client and I’m going to do the best I can for her. Burger has been putting in the noon hour talking with Webley Richey. If Miss Granger’s story isn’t true, naturally Richey won’t be in a position to corroborate it. Therefore, Burger will rest his case right after he walks into court. If it develops that he’s got a corroborating witness he’ll put Richey on the stand.”

“But you can’t cross-examine Richey on that conversation for more than a minute or two,” Drake said.

“I’ve got to find a loophole somewhere,” Mason said. “Our only hope is that Burger rests his case without recalling Richey. If he does that I’ll know something’s wrong with Suzanne Granger’s story. If he recalls Richey I’ll know Eleanor’s case is hopeless. Richey is the barometer.”

They entered the Hall of Justice, were whisked upward in an elevator and walked into the courtroom.

It was quite evident that Eleanor had been crying during the noon hour. Her swollen, red-rimmed eyes were definitely no help as far as Mason’s task was concerned.

Della Street, sizing up the grim, hard faces of the jurors as they gazed in unsympathetic appraisal at the defendant, leaned toward Perry Mason and said, “Gosh, Chief, I feel like bawling myself. Look at the faces on the jurors.”

“I know,” Mason said.

A smiling Hamilton Burger, flanked by his assistant district attorneys, made something of a triumphant entry into the courtroom, and a few moments later Judge Moran took the bench and court was called to order.

“Are the People ready to proceed?” Judge Moran asked.

“This tells the story,” Mason whispered.

Hamilton Burger got to his feet. “Your Honor,” he said, “we have one more witness, a witness whom I didn’t realize could corroborate the story of Miss Granger until Miss Granger’s statement on the stand took me completely by surprise. Because I hadn’t anticipated such a situation, I hadn’t asked Miss Granger or Mr. Richey about the conversation. Miss Granger had told me, as she stated on the stand, that just she and the defendant were present at the time of this conversation and I had let it go at that. I simply hadn’t thought to ask her if some other person who hadn’t been present might nevertheless have overheard the conversation.

“I mention this in order to show the Court and counsel my good faith in the matter.

“Mr. Webley Richey, will you come forward, please? You have already been sworn. Just take your position there on the witness stand, please.”

Richey walked forward with studied dignity. He seated himself on the witness stand, glanced patronizingly at Perry Mason, then raised his eyebrows in silent interrogation as he looked at Hamilton Burger. His manner said louder than words that he was graciously granting permission to the district attorney to question him.

“Did you,” Hamilton Burger asked, “hear a conversation on or about the fifteenth day of August of this year between the defendant and Suzanne Granger?”

“I did. Yes, sir.”

“Where did that conversation take place?”

“At the door of apartment 360.”

“And who was present at that conversation?”

“Just Miss Granger and the defendant.”

“Tell us what was said,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Just a moment,” Mason said. “I would like to ask a preliminary question.”

“I don’t think you’re entitled to,” Hamilton Burger said. “You can object if you want to.”

“Very well,” Mason said. “I object on the ground that the question calls for a conclusion of the witness. If the Court please the witness has testified that only two people were present. Therefore he wasn’t present.”

“But he certainly can testify to what he heard,” Judge Moran ruled.

“Provided he can identify the voices,” Mason said, “but there has as yet been no proper foundation laid.”

“Oh, very well,” Hamilton Burger said. “You know the defendant, do you, Mr. Richey?”

“I do. Yes, sir.”

“Have you talked with her?”

“Well... on occasion.”

“Do you know her voice?”

“Well... yes. I know her voice very well.”

“And was she one of the persons who participated in the conversation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And how about the other person?”

“That was Miss Granger.”

“Do you know her voice?”

“Very well.”

“Go on. Tell us what was said.”

“Well, Miss Granger said that she didn’t propose to have anyone spying on her, that she didn’t like it, that she was independent, paid her own bills and intended to live her own life and she wasn’t going to have anyone keeping watch on her.”

“And what did the defendant say to that?”

“The defendant said that she was trying to steal her boy Mend.”

“Boy friend or husband?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“Boyfriend.”

“Go ahead.”

“And the defendant said that she wasn’t going to stand idly by and let anyone steal her boy friend, that if Suzanne Granger interfered she would shoot Suzanne Granger, and if she couldn’t get her boy friend back by any other means she certainly would see to it that no one else had him.”

“Did she say how she proposed to see that no one else had him?”

“She said that she would kill him.”

“And did she at that time exhibit a weapon?”

“Well, of course,” Richey said, “I couldn’t see what was going on. I could only hear. But I gathered from the conversation that she was showing a weapon to Miss Granger. She said something about, ‘You can see that I’m prepared to make good my promise,’ or something of that sort.”

“You may inquire,” Hamilton Burger said smugly.

Mason glanced at the clock. Somehow he had to think up a strategy by which this rather routine corroborating witness could become a pivotal controversial figure so that the case would drag on until the next day.

“Subsequently,” Mason asked, “you remonstrated with the parties about this scene?”

“I spoke to Miss Granger about it, yes.”

“That was in your official capacity?”

“Certainly.”

“You were the clerk on duty at the apartment house and as such felt that you had the duty of maintaining order and the dignity of the apartment?”

“Absolutely.”

“And in that capacity you spoke to Miss Granger, I believe remonstrated was the word she used?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told her that the Belinda Apartments was a high-class apartment house, that we didn’t believe in having brawls.”

“What did you say to the defendant?”

“I didn’t talk to her. She went out right after the altercation with Miss Granger.”

“Why didn’t you talk to her later?”

“Well, I... officially, you understand, I hadn’t been advised the defendant was a tenant. She was there as a guest of a tenant. Actually she had made financial arrangements with Miss Belan to share her apartment, but that was supposed to be confidential. No one was supposed to know that Miss Belan had a subtenant in the apartment. The defendant was supposed to be a guest. In that way it wasn’t necessary for her to register.”

“I see. Who told you about the arrangements?”

“Miss Belan.”

“Not the defendant?”

“No.”

“Then you had never talked with the defendant personally?”

“I saw her from time to time.”

“But you hadn’t talked with her?”

“I tried to take no official notice of the fact that she was a paying tenant in the house.”

“Then you hadn’t talked with her?”

“Not in that sense of the word.”

“Then how,” Mason asked, “could you be familiar with the sound of her voice?”

The witness hesitated. “I... I had heard it.”

“How had you heard it?”

“Why, by hearing her speak.”

“When had you heard her speak?”

“I don’t know — from time to time, I guess.”

“Over the telephone?”

“Yes, over the telephone.”

“Do you sometimes monitor the switchboard?”

“Well, I... sometimes I check on calls.”

“You don’t actually manipulate the switchboard yourself?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to do so?”

“I’m afraid I do not.”

“Then when you say you monitor calls does that mean you listen in on calls?”

The witness became embarrassed. “I wouldn’t use that term, Mr. Mason. It sometimes is necessary to make decisions in regard to the lines.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If, for instance, a person has placed a long-distance call and then is engaged in some rather trivial telephone conversation when the long-distance call comes in, I have to give the operator a signal as to whether the local conversation should be interrupted so that the long-distance call can come across the board.”

“I see. That takes a certain amount of judgment?”

“A very great deal of discretion.”

“It means that you have to know the habits of the people?”

“Oh yes, definitely.”

“I mean their telephone habits.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And have some idea as to the importance of the long-distance call?”

“Well, yes.”

“And the only way you can get that is by monitoring the conversations from time to time?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

“How else would you get the information?”

“I wouldn’t know. Perhaps intuitively.”

“You do monitor conversations, don’t you?”

“I have.”

“You make a habit of it, don’t you?”

“Definitely not.”

“When you’re not busy with something else?”

“Well, sometimes I listen in on the line, that is, I... well, I have monitored conversations when I felt there was some reason for it.”

“And the switchboard is so constructed that any conversation can be monitored from your office. In other words, your phone can be plugged in on any line going across the switchboard?”

“Well, of course, the switchboard is one of those...”

“Answer the question,” Mason said. “Isn’t it a fact that the switchboard is so constructed that your telephone can be plugged in on any line so that you can monitor any conversation that’s going through the switchboard?”

“Well, you see...”

“I want an answer to that question,” Mason thundered. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes.”

“Well now,” Mason said, smiling, “was there any reason why you couldn’t have answered that question directly? Were you ashamed of what you did in monitoring the conversations?”

“No, definitely not.”

“I’m sorry if I got that impression from your continued evasions,” Mason said.

Hamilton Burger jumped to his feet. “That remark is uncalled for, Your Honor. The witness didn’t continually evade the question.”

Mason smiled at the judge. “I won’t argue the point, Your Honor. I’ll leave it entirely to the jury.”

“But I don’t like that insinuation in the record,” Hamilton Burger protested.

“I didn’t think you would.”

Judge Moran said, “Come, come, gentlemen. We’ll have no more personalities. Go on with your cross-examination, Mr. Mason.”

“Now according to your version of this conversation,” Mason said, “Miss Granger was a perfect lady. She made no threats.”

“No, sir.”

“She didn’t pull a gun on the defendant?”

“Definitely not.”

“She didn’t threaten to shoot the defendant?”

“No, sir.”

“She didn’t threaten to shoot Douglas Hepner?”

“Definitely not.”

“She comported herself in a respectable manner throughout?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why did you deem it necessary to remonstrate with her?”

“I... well, of course, she was the one who initiated proceedings. It was she who opened the door and told the defendant she didn’t propose to have anyone spying on her.”

“You were there, you said, in an adjoining apartment?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How could you hear so clearly what was being said?”

“The door of the apartment was open.”

“And you were there in your official capacity?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why didn’t you step out into the hallway and put a stop to the altercation then and there?”

The witness hesitated.

“Go on,” Mason said. “Why didn’t you? What was holding you back?”

“Well, of course, in many years of employment in high-class apartment houses one learns a certain amount of discretion. When one interferes in a quarrel between two angry women...”

“Two angry women?” Mason asked.

“Well, yes, sir.”

“I thought you said it was one angry woman and one dignified one? Were both women angry?”

“Well, I think Miss Granger was angry when she started the conversation.”

“She pushed the door open and confronted the defendant?”

“Well, I... I don’t know about pushing the door open. I couldn’t see. I could only hear.”

“And she was angry?”

“I think her feelings were outraged.”

Mason said, “You draw a very nice line of distinction, Mr. Richey. One woman was angry and the other woman’s feelings were outraged. Yet when you said you didn’t interfere you said that you didn’t want to get mixed up in an altercation between two angry women.”

“Oh, have it your way,” Richey said. “I’m not going to quibble with you, Mr. Mason.”

“You’re not quibbling with me,” Mason said. “I’m trying to get the exact picture of what happened.”

“After all, is it that important?” Hamilton Burger asked somewhat sneeringly.

“It’s important because it shows the attitude of this witness,” Mason said.

“An absolutely unbiased, impartial witness,” Hamilton Burger retorted with feeling.

“Is that so?” Mason said. “Now, Mr. Richey, you have testified that you were in an adjoining apartment at the time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the door was open?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is, the door from the apartment to the corridor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you could hear the sounds of the altercation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What apartment were you in?” Mason asked, getting to his feet and raising his voice. “Tell us, what apartment were you in?”

“Why, I... I was in an adjoining apartment.”

“Adjoining what?”

“Adjoining... well, it was a nearby apartment.”

Mason said, “You’ve used the word adjoining a dozen different times. Now was it an adjoining apartment or wasn’t it?”

“It was a nearby apartment.”

“Was it an adjoining apartment?”

“At this time, Mr. Mason, it would be difficult for me to tell you what apartment I was in.”

“So you can remember the conversation almost verbatim,” Mason said, “and yet you can’t remember what apartment you were in.”

“Well, I haven’t given that matter much thought.”

“Let’s give it some thought now. What apartment were you in?”

“I... I’m sure I can’t... it would be very difficult...”

“Was it an adjoining apartment?”

“Adjoining what?”

“You’ve used the word,” Mason said. “What did you mean by it?”

“Well, I... I don’t know what I meant by it.”

“In other words, you were using words without knowing their meaning?”

“I know the meaning of the word adjoining.”

“And you used that word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, what did you mean when you used it?”

“Well, there, of course... I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re under oath?”

“Of course.”

“You knew you were testifying under oath?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And yet when you said adjoining and knew the meaning of the word you didn’t think of the meaning at the time you used it?”

“Well, that’s not expressing it very fairly.”

“Express it in your words then,” Mason said. “Express it fairly.”

“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “this is browbeating the witness.”

“I’m not browbeating him,” Mason said. “Here’s a witness who has an air of supercilious superiority. Here’s a witness who has testified a dozen times that he was in an adjoining apartment. Now I’m trying to find out whether he actually was in an adjoining apartment.”

“Well, of course, if you want to be technical about it, there could actually be only two adjoining apartments, one on each side,” Richey blurted.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to get at,” Mason said. “You understand the meaning of the word adjoining?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What is it?”

“It means immediately contiguous to.”

“All right. Were you in an apartment that was immediately contiguous to apartment 360?”

“It would be difficult for me to tell you at this time, Mr. Mason.”

“I think, if the Court please, that question has been asked and answered half a dozen times,” Hamilton Burger said. “The witness has stated he can’t remember.”

“He didn’t state any such thing,” Mason said. “He said that it would be difficult for him to tell me. Were you in one of the adjoining apartments?”

“Well, I... I may have been.”

“You said so a dozen times, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know how many times.”

“You used the word adjoining?”

“I believe I did. I used it without thinking.”

“Were you testifying without thinking?”

“No, I simply used the word without thinking.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “You were betraying yourself by the use of the word. There was only one adjoining apartment that had the door open and that was apartment 358. That was the apartment of Suzanne Granger. She had gone out, in fact she had stormed out when she found the defendant watching Douglas Hepner’s departure down the elevator. She stormed out and left the door open. You therefore heard the conversation. You were in Suzanne Granger’s apartment, weren’t you?”

“I... I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember whether you were in the apartment of Suzanne Granger at the time this conversation took place?”

“I... I... well... come to think of it, I remember now that I was.”

“Oh, you were in there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On official business?”

“I was in there in connection with my employment. Yes, sir.”

“And you were there in that apartment when Suzanne Granger stormed out of the apartment and left the door open?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now when Douglas Hepner departed he had left by that door and gone to the elevator, had he not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Suzanne Granger had stepped to the door and was watching to see if the door of apartment 360 opened a crack. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know what was in her mind.”

“But she did step to the door, didn’t she?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then while you were standing there you heard the clang of the elevator door as Douglas Hepner went down?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then saw Suzanne Granger storm out into the corridor?”

“Well, I don’t know what you mean by storming. She went out into the corridor.”

“Hurriedly?”

“Yes.”

“Angrily?”

“Yes.”

“And you stood there in the apartment behind this open door and heard the conversation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now why,” Mason said, pointing his finger at Richey, “why did you try to conceal the fact that you were in Suzanne Granger’s apartment?”

“I didn’t. I said I was in an adjoining apartment.”

“Then when you said you were in an adjoining apartment you meant that you were in the apartment adjoining that of Ethel Belan, in other words in Suzanne Granger’s apartment?”

“Certainly.”

“Then why did you tell us it would be difficult for you to tell me what apartment you were in?”

“Well, I didn’t want to come out and mention it in so many words.”

“Didn’t you try to convey the effect that you couldn’t remember what apartment you were in?”

“Certainly not. I said that it would be difficult for me to tell you. I was very careful in choosing my language.”

“Yet you noticed that the learned district attorney became confused by your language and stated to the Court that you had testified half a dozen times that you couldn’t remember. Didn’t you hear him say that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you didn’t try to straighten him out or tell him that it would be difficult for you to say?”

“Well, I... I feel that the district attorney can take care of himself.”

“You don’t have to do his thinking for him, is that it?”

“Well, you can put it that way if you want.”

“And then, later on, you did say you couldn’t remember and then said you had remembered, isn’t that right?”

“I may have. I was confused.”

“Actually you did remember?”

“I remembered until I became confused and then I forgot. When I remembered I told you so. When I said it would be difficult for me to tell you, I meant just that.”

“Yet at one time you said you couldn’t remember?”

“I may have.”

“That was a lie?”

“Not a lie. I was confused.”

“You said you couldn’t remember?”

“You got me so rattled I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“Now why was it difficult for you to tell us that you were in Suzanne Granger’s apartment?”

“Because I suddenly realized that under the circumstances it might be... it might be embarrassing.”

“To whom?”

“To Miss Granger.”

“So you were willing to quibble and avoid answering the question in order to spare Suzanne Granger’s feelings?”

“I try to be a gentleman.”

“Was there any reason why you shouldn’t have been in Suzanne Granger’s apartment?”

“Not in my official capacity, no.”

“And you were there in your official capacity?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were you doing?”

“I... I was discussing a matter with Miss Granger.”

“A matter which had to do with her position as a tenant and your position as the clerk?”

“It was in my official capacity. Yes, sir.”

“What were you discussing?”

“Oh, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said, “I object to that. It’s incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It’s not proper cross-examination.”

“On the other hand,” Mason said, “it goes to the very gist of the motivation and the bias of this witness. It is an important question.”

Judge Moran frowned thoughtfully. “Under certain circumstances,” he said, “I would think that it would be rather remote, but in view of the situation that has developed with the examination of this witness it... I think I will overrule the objection.”

“What were you discussing?” Mason said.

“I can’t remember.”

“Now this time you don’t mean that it would be difficult for you to say, you mean that you can’t remember?”

“I mean that I can’t remember.”

“You remember the conversation that took place between Miss Granger and the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You remember that almost word for word?”

“I remember what was said. Yes, sir.”

“But you can’t remember the conversation which took place immediately before that, the conversation on an official matter between you and Miss Granger?”

“No, sir, I can’t.”

“Then how do you know it was on an official matter?” Mason asked.

“Because otherwise I wouldn’t have been there.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Definitely.”

“You have never been in the apartment of Suzanne Granger except upon an official matter?”

The witness hesitated, glanced appealingly at Hamilton Burger.

“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “now we are getting far afield. This is an attempt to discredit the witness, to besmirch the reputation of another witness and...”

“This shows the bias of the witness,” Mason said, “and I furthermore fail to see how the fact that he was in the apartment of Miss Granger on a matter other than official business is going to besmirch her reputation.”

“Of course,” Judge Moran said thoughtfully, “this cross-examination has taken a most peculiar turn.”

“The reason it has taken a most peculiar turn,” Hamilton Burger said, “is very simple. The defense, in desperation, is sparring for time. He’s trying to introduce every possible technicality that he can in order to try and appraise the case which has been made by the People so that he will know what sort of a defense to put on.”

“I think that remark is uncalled for,” Judge Moran said. “The jury will disregard that. Any remark made by counsel for either side is not to be taken as evidence. And I consider, Mr. District Attorney, that in your position you should realize that a statement of that sort in front of the jury might well become prejudicial misconduct.”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor, I withdraw the statement. I made it in the heat of... well, of exasperation.”

“Now then,” Judge Moran said, “I want to repeat that this cross-examination has taken a peculiar turn. Yet it is a logical turn in view of the testimony of the witness. I don’t care to comment on that testimony because that is not my function. I am here to rule on legal question. However, I think that under the circumstances I will give the defense the utmost latitude in cross-examination. The objection is overruled.”

“Were you ever there on matters other than business?” Mason asked.

“Well, I may have dropped in from time to time just to pass the time of day.”

“If,” Mason said, “some tenant of a neighboring apartment, not an adjoining apartment but a neighboring apartment, should say that you had been in there dozens of times, would that testimony be incorrect?”

“Now just a minute, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “I object to that question as argumentative, as not proper cross-examination, as assuming facts not in evidence.”

“It’s argumentative,” Judge Moran said. “The objection is sustained.”

“Were you in there dozens of times?” Mason asked.

The witness, plainly rattled, shifted his position on the witness stand, cleared his throat, reached for a handkerchief, blew his nose.

“Any time you’re finished with your staffing,” Mason said, “just answer the question.”

“I... it depends on what you mean by dozens of times.”

“In what way?” Mason asked.

“How many dozens?”

“I’ll leave it to you,” Mason said. “How many dozens of times have you been in there on matters that were not official?”

“I... I can’t remember.”

“Five dozen times?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Four dozen times?”

“Hardly.”

“Three dozen times?”

“Well... perhaps.”

“Then what did you mean by telling us that you wouldn’t have been in there except on an official matter?”

The witness hesitated for a moment, then with his face suddenly lighting in a triumphant leer, he said, “I mean on the day in question, Mr. Mason. Your question related to a conversation on the fifteenth day of August of this year, and I told you I wouldn’t have been in there at that time except on an official matter.”

“You mean on that day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what was there about that day that was different from the three dozen odd times that you had been in there when it wasn’t on official business?”

“Well, I... I didn’t say it was three dozen.”

“I thought you did.”

“I said it might have been three dozen.”

“All right,” Mason said. “What was different about this fifteenth day of August of this year? Was there anything different?”

“Well... there had been events which made the day unusual.”

“Now how long had you been in that apartment at the time of the conversation?” Mason asked.

“For a... well, there again I... I can’t remember.”

“You didn’t enter after Hepner entered?” Mason said.

“No, sir.”

“Then you must have been in there before Hepner entered?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you see Douglas Hepner in there?”

“I... I heard him.”

“That’s what I thought,” Mason said. “Let’s be frank about this now.”

Mason reached over to the counsel table, grabbed up a sheaf of documents, turned the pages rapidly as though looking for some statement that he had, then, apparently finding it, marched forward to confront the witness and said, “You were hidden in that apartment listening to what Douglas Hepner said, weren’t you?”

The witness twisted and turned uncomfortably.

Mason glanced at the paper as though reading, then looked back at the witness and said, “Now you’re under oath. Let’s have it straight. Were you concealed in that apartment, listening, or not?”

“Yes, sir. I was.”

“That’s better,” Mason said, folding the papers and tossing them back on the counsel table with a dramatic gesture. “Now why were you in there listening?”

“Because I felt that matters had reached a point where... where I should know what was going on.”

“Between Miss Granger and Douglas Hepner?”

“Well, I wanted to know what was going on. I wanted to know what all the facts actually were. I wanted to know what the defendant was doing up there and how far...”

Suzanne Granger jumped to her feet, her face flaming with indignation, and shouted, “This man is lying. He wasn’t in my apartment. He...”

“Just a moment, just a moment,” Hamilton Burger exclaimed angrily, turning to face Suzanne Granger.

“Be seated, Miss Granger,” Judge Moran said not unkindly. “We can’t tolerate a disturbance in the court. The witness is testifying.”

“He’s testifying to falsehoods, Your Honor.”

Judge Moran said, more sternly this time, “There is no occasion for you to comment on the testimony of the witness. If you have anything to say concerning it you can talk to the district attorney or, for that matter, you’re at liberty to talk to counsel for the defense, but we can’t have proceedings interrupted in this manner. If you can’t control yourself I will have to eject you. Now do you understand?”

“I understand, but I don’t feel called upon to sit here and listen to statements that reflect upon my good name. The witness told me he was in an adjoining apartment. That was my testimony this morning and...”

“You won’t engage in an argument with the Court in front of the jury,” Judge Moran ruled. “Now, Miss Granger, sit down.”

She seated herself.

“Now remain quiet,” Judge Moran said. “If you want to communicate with counsel for either side you may do so during the recess. We will have no more interruptions.”

Judge Moran turned to Perry Mason. “Go on with your cross-examination, Mr. Mason.”

“Is it possible,” Mason asked, “that you were in Miss Granger’s apartment without her knowledge?”

“I... I...”

“Just a moment,” Hamilton Burger said, lunging to his feet. “This witness can’t testify to what Miss Granger knows or what she didn’t know. That question calls for a conclusion of the witness.”

“Sustained,” Judge Moran said, smiling slightly.

“Is it possible,” Mason said, “that you took precautions to see that Miss Granger didn’t know that you were in her apartment?”

“I... I... I can hardly say.”

“You mean you can’t remember, or that it’s difficult for you to say?”

“Well, I... of course I can’t say as to what she knew.”

“How did you get in that apartment?”

“I used a master key.”

“Was Miss Granger in the apartment when you entered?”

“No, sir.”

“Miss Granger came in later?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was Mr. Hepner in there when you entered?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you go there to meet Miss Granger?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you go at Miss Granger’s request?”

“No, sir.”

“Why did you go there?”

“I went there to... to make an investigation.”

“An investigation of what?”

“Miss Granger had reported that there had been acts of sabotage committed in her apartment.”

“What sort of sabotage?” Mason asked.

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, and not proper cross-examination,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Overruled,” Judge Moran snapped. “I’m going to give counsel latitude to find out the true situation here. It’s been brought in on direct evidence and I think counsel is entitled to clarify it fully on cross-examination. Answer the question.”

“Well, Miss Granger reported that while she was away on a week-end trip someone had broken into the apartment and had... well, had clipped the ends off the tubes of her oil paints and then had squeezed all of the oil paints out on the...”

“Oh, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said, “that is very plainly hearsay. I submit that any statement as to what had happened made by Miss Granger to this witness and not under oath is hearsay and that this is not proper cross-examination.”

Judge Moran hesitated. “I think we are trying to determine what was said in a conversation,” he said, “not to establish a fact by evidence of that conversation. However... I will ask the witness a few questions.”

Judge Moran swung around so as to look at Richey’s profile. “Look up here, Mr. Richey.”

Richey reluctantly raised his eyes to meet those of the magistrate.

“Did you personally go up to the apartment to inspect this act of sabotage?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you personally see the paints from these tubes of oil paint spread around the apartment?”

“Yes, sir. They were spread all over the bathtub and the washbowl and... it was quite a mess.”

“How many tubes of paint?” Judge Moran asked.

“Heavens, I don’t know. There must have been... well, there were dozens of them. It was a terrible mess.”

“Who cleaned up the apartment?”

“The janitor.”

“Was this reported to the police?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Why?”

Hamilton Burger said, “Just a moment, Your Honor. I’m trying to protect the record here so that we don’t drag in a lot of extraneous matters and get lost in a maze of confusing side issues. After all, it seems to me that it has no bearing on the case which we are now trying as to whether an act of sabotage was committed in the apartment of the witness, Suzanne Granger, or not.

“I don’t wish to be placed in the embarrassing position of objecting to the Court’s question, but I do wish to point out to the Court that there is a limit of pertinency and relevancy.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Judge Moran ruled, somewhat reluctantly. “I guess perhaps we are getting this inquiry rather far afield, but it is impossible not to believe that there is some connection... however, I won’t comment on the evidence. I think perhaps that it is better if the Court withdraws that last question.”

“On the other hand, Your Honor,” Mason said, “I feel that the defense should be permitted to explore this matter. I feel that there is a very definite connection between what happened in the apartment of Miss Granger and what was happening in the apartment of Ethel Belan, and, since the prosecution has been permitted to show what happened in Ethel Belan’s apartment, it seems to me that the defense should be permitted to explore the unusual and bizarre circumstances which it is now apparent were taking place in the apartment of Suzanne Granger.”

Suzanne Granger started to get to her feet.

“Just a moment,” Judge Moran snapped. “Now Miss Granger, be seated and remain seated. Don’t open your mouth. Don’t address the Court. Don’t say a word. You either remain in that seat and keep silent or I’ll have a bailiff eject you. Do you understand that?”

She subsided in tight-lipped indignation.

“Very well,” Judge Moran said. “Now let’s try and get this situation straightened out. I think under the circumstances the Court will refrain from asking further questions. Mr. Mason, you were cross-examining the witness. You ask your questions. The district attorney can object to those questions and the Court will rule on the objections.”

Hamilton Burger, badly flustered, glanced at the clock and the confused witness, and realized that his carefully planned schedule of procedure was going awry.

“Your Honor,” he said, “I feel that the Court can rule at this time as to this entire matter, that questions concerning it are improper and...”

“I don’t,” Judge Moran snapped. “Go ahead with your examination, Mr. Mason.”

Mason said to the witness, “Now let’s get this straight. You went to the apartment of Suzanne Granger. You let yourself in with your passkey. Was that in an official capacity?”

“I considered it so. Yes.”

“You wanted to make certain inspections?”

“Yes.”

“And this was on the fifteenth?”

“Yes.”

“That was Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“There had previously been an act of sabotage reported in the apartment, an act of vandalism?”

“Yes.”

“At what time was this reported?”

“At about one o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Of that same day?”

“Yes.”

“That act was reported to you?”

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

“By Miss Granger.”

“And what had she said?”

“She said that she had been on a week-end trip in Las Vegas and...”

“Did she say with whom she had made that trip?”

“I object. Incompetent, irrelevant, immaterial, not proper cross-examination,” Hamilton Burger shouted.

“Sustained,” Judge Moran said. “I think this entire conversation may be improper.”

“Then I object to it.”

“The objection is sustained.”

“You went to Miss Granger’s apartment on the fifteenth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You let yourself in with a passkey?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was that the first time you had gone to that apartment that day?”

“No, sir.”

“When had you been there earlier?”

“When Miss Granger took me up to the apartment to show me what had happened during her absence.”

“That was when you saw the tubes of paint cut open and the paint smeared on the bathtub?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now can you describe generally the condition of the apartment at that time?”

“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “this thing is getting all out of hand. We have a murder case. The People are about ready to rest their case. It’s a clean-cut case. In fact, I may say it’s a dead open-and-shut case. Now we’ve gone far afield with acts of vandalism that...”

“However, in view of the fact that this witness was called to the stand to corroborate a conversation taking place between Miss Granger and the defendant on that day,” Judge Moran said, “I think counsel is entitled to explore the rather unusual fact that this witness was apparently by his own admission concealed in the Granger apartment without the knowledge of the tenant.”

“I think the Court shouldn’t comment on the evidence,” Hamilton Burger said.

“I’m not commenting on it,” Judge Moran said. “I’m simply telling you what the witness testified to. Your objection is overruled. Go on with your examination, Mr. Mason.”

“Answer the question,” Mason said. “Describe the condition of the apartment.”

“Well, it was a wreck.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“A search had been made.”

“What sort of a search?”

“A very thorough search. Things had been dumped from the drawers and...”

“I object,” Hamilton Burger said. “The witness isn’t entitled to state that a search had been made. That’s a conclusion.”

“It’s too late for an objection now,” Judge Moran ruled, his manner plainly showing his interest in this entire line of testimony. “The witness has answered the question. Now go ahead. Let’s get this situation clarified if we can.”

“You were called in there by Suzanne Granger as the official representative of the apartment house?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you ordered it cleaned up?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you summon the police?”

“No, sir.”

“Did Miss Granger summon the police?”

“Objected to as calling for a conclusion of the witness,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Sustained.”

“Did Miss Granger say anything to you about not calling the police?”

“Same objection.”

“Overruled.”

“Yes, sir, she did.”

“What did she say?”

“I asked her if we should call the police and she said no, that she knew who was responsible for the damage and that she didn’t care to have the police called.”

“So then you summoned the janitor?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And ordered the janitor to clean up the mess?”

“That is, to clean up the bathtub and the washbowl. It was something of a job. He had to use turpentine and then, of course, the maids came in and cleaned off the turpentine, the washbowl and the bathtub.”

“Then you left?”

“I had left before the maids came in.”

“And then after the maids and the janitor left, and while Miss Granger was out, you sneaked back to the apartment?”

“I went back to the apartment.”

“Miss Granger was not there?”

“I have told you several times she wasn’t there.”

“You knew she wasn’t there?”

“Well, I... I had seen her go out.”

“And when you went back there what did you do?”

“I started looking around.”

“Checking the damage?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But the damage had all been cleaned up by that time, hadn’t it?”

“Well, I guess it had.”

“Then why did you go there?”

“To see that the damage had been cleaned up.”

“And then Miss Granger returned?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you let her know that you were in the apartment?”

“No, sir, I didn’t.”

“What did you do?”

“When I heard her returning I slipped into a closet.”

“And remained there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did Miss Granger do?”

“She was in something of a hurry. She hurriedly disrobed and took a shower. Then she stood in front of a dressing table...”

“Stood in front of a dressing table?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you must have been watching?”

“I had opened the door of the closet a crack.”

“So you could see?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I had been trapped in there and I wanted an opportunity to escape.”

“So you were watching Miss Granger standing there in front of the dressing table so that you could find an opportunity to escape.”

“Yes.”

“How was she clothed?”

“She was just out of the shower.”

“You mean she was in the nude?”

“I... I believe so, sir.”

“What do you mean, you believe so? You were watching, weren’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Was she clothed?”

“No.”

“And you were watching simply in order to find a favorable opportunity to make your escape?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, why didn’t you make your escape while she was in the shower?”

“I... I was confused at the time.”

“Yes, so it would seem,” Mason commented dryly.

“It was an embarrassing situation.”

“And you become confused when you’re embarrassed?”

“Quite naturally, yes.”

“And you’re embarrassed now?”

“In a way.”

“Then you are confused?”

“That doesn’t follow. I’m telling the truth.”

“That,” Mason said, “is all.”

Hamilton Burger heaved a very audible sigh of relief.

“That’s all, Mr. Richey. You may leave the stand, that, Your Honor, is the People’s case.”

“Just a moment,” Mason said. “I desire to ask some additional questions on cross-examination of some of the People’s witnesses.”

“I object,” Hamilton Burger said. “The defense had every opportunity to cross-examine every witness.”

“But,” Mason said, “the district attorney was given an opportunity to put the witness Richey back on the stand for the second time after previously calling the witness and not asking him about this conversation.”

“That’s because the prosecution was taken by surprise, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said.

“And so was the defense,” Mason said. “I feel that under the circumstances I’m entitled to ask some more questions of Miss Granger on cross-examination. I also have some further questions to ask Dr. Oberon.”

Hamilton Burger, fighting desperately to keep control of the situation, said, “The prosecution has no objection to further questions on cross-examination of Dr. Oberon, but the prosecution definitely objects to any cross-examination of Miss Granger at this time.”

“Well,” Judge Moran said, “If you have no objection to further cross-examination of Dr. Oberon, let’s let him resume the stand and then the Court will reserve its ruling on the matter of further cross-examination of Miss Granger.”

“It will take a few minutes to get Dr. Oberon here,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Very well, the Court will take a five-minute recess,” Judge Moran said.

The judge had hardly left the bench when Suzanne Granger, bristling defiance, came striding down the aisle.

Hamilton Burger rushed toward her.

“Now, Miss Granger,” he said, “just a moment. Let’s be reasonable, please.”

Mason raised his voice. “Did you wish to talk with me, Miss Granger?”

She hesitated, looking at Perry Mason, then at Hamilton Burger.

“No, no,” Burger protested. “You’re the People’s witness. Now we’ll give you every opportunity to get the facts straight, Miss Granger. Just be calm, please.”

Mason moved down the aisle. “If Hamilton Burger is going to put you on the stand so you can tell the true story of what happened I won’t have to do it, Miss Granger, but otherwise if you want to protect your reputation I’ll be only too glad to...”

An officer interposed himself between Mason and the witness.

Hamilton Burger swung Suzanne Granger away from Mason and toward the witness room. Another officer helped block Mason’s way.

Mason turned to Paul Drake and winked. He walked dejectedly back to the counsel table where a policewoman was keeping the defendant in custody.

He leaned over and whispered in Eleanor’s ear. “What’s this all about? Why was Richey in that apartment?”

“I don’t know. I think he’s in love with her,” she whispered.

Mason grinned. “You think then that he was jealous of Douglas Hepner?”

“Doug,” she said with dignity, “was not making love to Suzanne Granger. He was simply trying to get information. He was dating her and taking her out, but that’s all.”

“That’s what you think,” Mason said.

“That’s what Doug told me and Doug wouldn’t lie — not to me.”

Mason returned once more to where Paul Drake was standing.

“Paul,” he said, “cover the door of the witness room where Burger took Suzanne Granger. I want to see if the conversation is friendly. I want to get the expression on her face when she comes out.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Drake said, “but I can’t get near the door. They’ve got a bunch of gorillas covering the district attorney and he isn’t in the happiest of moods this afternoon.”

“I know, but get out in the corridor if you have to. Look around. See what happens when she comes out. See whether they are smiling and friendly, or how they act.”

Drake nodded and left the courtroom.

A few minutes later Dr. Oberon, carrying a brief case, came hurrying into the courtroom. The bailiff called for the jury and Judge Moran returned to the bench.

“Where’s the prosecutor?” Judge Moran asked.

One of the deputy district attorneys looked toward the door of the witness room. His manner was somewhat harassed, somewhat anxious.

“The district attorney,” he said, “has been detained momentarily but as I understand it this is a situation where counsel for the defense desires to ask additional questions on cross-examination of Dr. Oberon. In the absence of the district attorney my associate and I will represent the prosecution.”

“Very well,” Judge Moran said. “I take it there is no objection to this further cross-examination of Dr. Oberon.”

“None whatever,” the deputy said with smug virtue. “If there is any fact in the case that Dr. Oberon has testified to which the defense wishes cleared up we will be only too glad to co-operate to the extent of our ability.”

“Thank you,” Mason said affably. “That attitude is appreciated and I trust you will be equally broad-minded in regard to clearing up any situation with Miss Granger.”

The deputy district attorney, suddenly taken aback, blurted, “Well, I don’t know about that... you’ll have to ask the chief... that question is in Mr. Burger’s province.”

Judge Moran smiled slightly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Mr. Mason. You may now proceed with further cross-examination of Dr. Oberon.”

Mason faced Dr. Oberon.

“Doctor, as I understand it, you have stated that the cause of death was a .38 caliber bullet which lodged in the brain?”

“That is correct. Yes, sir.”

“Did you examine the body to determine if there was any contributing cause of death?”

“What do you mean?”

“I direct your attention to a photograph which was taken at the time of the autopsy. It shows the right arm of the decedent, and I call your attention to two little spots on that right arm.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why was that photograph taken?”

“Because of those spots.”

“You directed that that photograph be taken?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And why?”

“Well, the spots were... I thought we should have the photograph. I believe that every evidence of any abnormality should be photographed in any autopsy, particularly in cases of homicide.”

“And what was abnormal about these blemishes?”

“Well, they are some sort of puncture.”

“In other words, Doctor, you thought they might have been made by a hypodermic needle, didn’t you?”

“Well, there was always that possibility.”

“And why didn’t you mention that in your direct testimony, Doctor?”

“Well, I wasn’t asked about it, either on direct or cross-examination.”

“But why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t feel called upon to mention it unless I was asked.”

“But you considered it highly significant?”

“I considered it significant.”

“How significant?”

“I took a picture of the arm, that is, I asked to have a picture taken of the punctures.”

“That are in the right arm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“A right-handed man administering a hypodermic would be inclined to puncture the left arm, would he not?”

“Either the left arm or the left leg.”

“You thought these were the marks of a hypodermic?”

“They could have been.”

Burger came tiptoeing into the courtroom and took his seat at the counsel table between the two deputies. His face was flushed and angry.

“And did you test the body for morphia?” Mason asked, when the district attorney had settled himself.

“No.”

“Did you test it for any drugs?”

“No. I determined the cause of death.”

“Was there anything in the evidence that made you feel that at the time the bullet was fired the decedent might have been under the influence of drugs?”

“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, not proper cross-examination,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Overruled,” Judge Moran snapped, his eyes on the doctor.

“Well... I... no, I can’t say that.”

“The body was subsequently embalmed?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“And buried?”

“Yes.”

“Doctor, would embalming destroy the evidence of poison?”

“Of some poisons, very definitely. Cyanide of potassium would be completely neutralized by the embalming.”

“What about morphia?”

“Morphine is an alkaloid. It would be possible to get evidence in the system for a period of... well, several weeks.”

“If the body should be exhumed at the present time and there was morphine present, could that be determined?”

“Let’s see, when was the murder?... I think there might be a good chance, yes.”

Mason turned to the Court. “Your Honor,” he said, “I ask that this body be exhumed. I believe that at the time of death Douglas Hepner was under the influence of morphine which had been given to him by persons who had taken him a prisoner.”

“You have some grounds for this assertion?” Judge Moran asked.

“Many grounds,” Mason said. “Look at the contents of the man’s pockets. Whatever money he had in the form of currency had been taken. All of the pages of a notebook on which there was any writing had been removed and a new filler placed in the cover. The man had cigarettes in a silver case but there were no matches and no lighter. In other words nothing with which he could set a fire. He had no knife. I believe that Douglas Hepner was held a captive before his death.”

“Now just a minute, just a minute,” Hamilton Burger said angrily, getting to his feet. “Here’s another grandstand play unsupported by evidence, a mere statement of counsel that is injected for the purpose of drawing a red herring across the trail of murder. These are things that can’t be proven.”

“They certainly can’t be proven if we bury the evidence,” Mason said.

“Of course,” Judge Moran pointed out, “even if it should appear that the decedent had been given injections of morphine, that wouldn’t establish the point you are trying to make.”

“It would fit in with evidence which I hope to produce to establish that point,” Mason said.

“An order of exhumation should only be made under most extraordinary circumstances,” Judge Moran said. He turned to Dr. Oberon. “Doctor, you noticed these punctures of the skin?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what made you think they were hypodermic punctures?”

“The appearance of the arm and the punctures. I thought they might well have been made by a hypodermic which had been administered... well, rather shortly before death.”

“Then why didn’t you try to determine what drug had been administered?”

“I... I was instructed not to.”

“By whom?”

“I rang up the district attorney and told him what I had found. He asked me what was the cause of death and I told him it was a .38 caliber bullet which had been fired into the back of the head. He said, ‘All right, you’ve got your cause of death. What more do you want?’ and hung up.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I was merely trying to keep from confusing the issues,” Hamilton Burger said, “because I know only too well how easy it is for a shrewd defense attorney to pick up some piece of purely extraneous evidence and torture it into...”

“Nevertheless,” Judge Moran interrupted, “under the circumstances, the autopsy surgeon should have followed up that lead. Let me ask you a few more questions, Doctor. Were there any marks indicating that this man customarily used drugs? In other words, were there any old puncture marks or...?”

“No, sir, there were not. I looked the body over very carefully. With the confirmed addict we usually find quite a few such puncture marks and frequently there is a species of tattooing. The hypodermic needle will be disinfected by means of flame from a match. A certain amount of soot or carbon will be deposited on the needle and injected into the skin, leaving very definite tattoo marks. There were just these two marks in the right arm and there had been minor extravasation.”

Judge Moran stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“I think perhaps the jury should be excused during this argument,” Hamilton Burger said.

“The defense is entitled to... the Court is going to take an adjournment and give this matter further consideration. I dislike to adjourn at this hour in the afternoon but I’m going to continue this matter until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. It is quite apparent that the case has progressed up to this point with unusual rapidity. For certain reasons which I need not comment on now, counsel for the defense is placed in a position where he must rely on every Constitutional right which is given his client.”

“I don’t think the Court needs to comment on that,” Hamilton Burger said acidly.

“I don’t either,” Judge Moran said. “I’m simply pointing out certain elemental matters. The Court feels it might be well to take a recess until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock unless there is an objection on the part of counsel. Is there any objection?”

“There is no such objection,” Mason said. “The defense makes a motion for such continuance.”

“The prosecution objects,” Hamilton Burger said. “It is quite obvious that up to a point the defense let the case develop rapidly until it had seen the entire hand of the prosecution. It is equally evident that thereupon the defense started a whole series of stalling tactics. This whole question of asking to have a body exhumed because of a couple of pin pricks is absurd. There’s no question what caused death. It was caused by a bullet fired from the defendant’s gun after the defendant had threatened to kill the decedent.”

Judge Moran listened patiently, then said, “The defense is entitled to know every factor in the case. Apparently what might have been a material factor was not investigated at the time of autopsy because the prosecution wished to keep the issues from being confused.

“What might confuse the issues in the mind of the prosecution might well be a very significant matter to the defense... You’re making a motion for a recess, Mr. Mason?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“The motion is granted,” Judge Moran snapped.

There was a considerable measure of excitement manifest in the demeanor of the few spectators who were watching the trial as Judge Moran left the bench.

The jurors, filing from the courtroom, glanced at the defendant, and now there was more curiosity, a certain measure of sympathetic interest in their glances.

Hamilton Burger, cramming papers down into his brief case with an unnecessary vigor that indicated suppressed anger, spoke briefly to his assistants, and strode from the room.

Della Street came up to grasp Mason’s arm.

“You’ve got them guessing, Chief,” she said.

Mason nodded.

A policewoman touched Eleanor on the shoulder, escorted her from the courtroom. Paul Drake came forward.

“What happened?” Mason asked.

Drake shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t get near the place but I managed to see Suzanne Granger when she came out. She went right to the elevators and left the building. She was white-faced, she was so mad. You can see what effect the interview had on Burger. He’s looking for an opportunity to commit a murder himself. What do you suppose happened, Perry?”

“There’s only one thing that could have happened,” Mason said. “Somehow Suzanne Granger’s story contradicts that of Richey. You say that Suzanne Granger went to the elevators?”

“That’s right.”

Mason grinned. “That means Burger told her to go home, not to stay around the courtroom. We’ll serve her with a subpoena as a defense witness. He won’t be expecting that. This adjournment took him by surprise.”

“How did you find out about these puncture wounds?” Drake asked.

Mason grinned. “In checking over the pictures of the body at the autopsy, I noticed that there was an enlarged picture of the right forearm. It was a picture that had no business being in the collection according to the theory of the prosecution. There was no apparent reason for taking it.

“I couldn’t imagine why on earth that picture had been taken. Then I realized that the autopsy surgeon must have directed the taking of this picture because he wanted to protect himself.

“At first I couldn’t see what it was. There were, of course, these small spots, but they could have been blemishes on the photograph. Yet there undoubtedly had been something that caused the autopsy surgeon to direct that picture to be taken. So I took a chance. It was, of course, a last desperate chance. The minute I’m forced to put on my defense I’m licked. My only hope is to find some weakness in the prosecution’s case.”

“How much chance do you have of doing that?” Della Street asked.

Mason shook his head. “A darn slim chance,” he admitted, “but it’s the chance I’m taking.”