The Case of the Mischievous Doll

Chapter Twelve

Judge Everson Flint glanced at the deputy district attorney who was seated with Hamilton Burger at the prosecutor’s counsel table. “The peremptory is with the People.”

“We pass the peremptory,” the deputy announced. Judge Flint looked at the defence table. “The peremptory is with the defence, Mr. Mason.”

Mason stood up and made a gesture of acceptance, a gesture which somehow managed to be as eloquent as a thousand words. “The defence,” he said, “is completely satisfied with the jury.”

“Very well,” Judge Flint said, “the jury will be sworn.”

The deputy district attorney sneeringly mimicked Mason’s gesture of moving the left hand outward. “There’s no need to make a speech about it,” he said.

Mason’s smile in the direction of the prosecutor’s table was deliberately irritating. “Why try then?”

Judge Flint said, “Let’s try and get along without personalities, gentlemen. The jury will now be sworn to try the case.”

After the jury had been sworn, Colton Parma, the deputy, at a nod from Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, made the opening statement.

“This is going to be a very brief opening statement, if it please the Court, and you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said. “We propose to show that the defendant in this case inherited a fortune from Harper Minden. But she had reason to believe that there were other relatives of Harper Minden who were entitled to share in the estate; specifically, a young woman named Dorrie Ambler, who was the daughter of the defendant’s mother’s sister.

“The sister had died unmarried and it was presumed she had left no issue. However, we will introduce evidence showing that the defendant, by her own statement, had unearthed evidence that Dorrie Ambler was actually the daughter of her mother’s sister, born out of wedlock, and that she and the defendant had the same father.

“We are not going to try to confuse the issues in the case by going into the intricacies of the law. We are simply setting forth the facts as I have explained them to you in order to show the state of mind of the defendant.

“The defendant was at the Montrose Country Club attending a dance on the night of September sixth. Liquor was served, and the defendant had had several drinks. She had an altercation with her escort, decided to leave him, and left the country club in a fit of anger.

“We expect to show that the defendant is spoiled, impulsive, and somewhat arrogant at times. She found an automobile in the parking place that had the keys in it and the motor running. It was a Cadillac automobile with licence number WHW 694 and it had been stolen from an owner in San Francisco, although the defendant had no means of knowing that at the time. The defendant jumped in this stolen car and drove away, apparently intending to go home.

“At the intersection of Western Avenue and Hollywood Boulevard she went through a stop signal, struck a pedestrian, hesitated a moment, jumped out of the car, started to go to the injured pedestrian, then changed her mind, jumped back in the car and drove rapidly away.

“Now, I wish to impress upon you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that any evidence which will be introduced tending to connect the defendant with hit-and-run, or with any other violation of the law, is introduced solely for the purpose of showing the background of the present case and the motivation of the defendant.

“We will show that the defendant concocted a brilliant scheme for absolving herself of liability. She hired a firm of private detectives and placed an ad in the newspaper offering employment to a young woman who had a certain particular physical description.

“She instructed the persons who were screening the applicants for that job to get someone who was as near a physical double as possible.

“Dorrie Ambler answered that ad. As soon as the person in charge of screening the applicants saw her, it was realized that Dorrie Ambler bore a startling resemblance to the defendant; a resemblance so striking that it aroused the defendant’s suspicion that Dorrie Ambler must be related to her and in short must be the illegitimate daughter of her mother’s sister.

“We propose to introduce evidence showing that the scheme hatched by the defendant was to have Dorrie Ambler walk by the witnesses who had seen the defendant at the time of the hit-and-run accident. She hoped that Dorrie Ambler would be identified by those witnesses.

“Once they had made a mistaken identification, the defendant felt that she herself would be immune from subsequent prosecution.

“However, when she saw the manner in which Dorrie Ambler resembled her, the defendant realized that she had set in chain a sequence of events which she couldn’t control. She knew that the newspapers would seize upon that resemblance and would soon find out that the two girls were actually closely related.

“It was at this point that the defendant entered into a conspiracy with one Dunleavey Jasper, who had tracked her down, and as a result of that conspiracy—”

“Now, just a minute,” Mason said. “We dislike interrupting the prosecution’s opening statement, but the prosecution is now bringing in evidence of other crimes with the purpose of prejudicing the jury. We assign the remarks as misconduct and ask the Court to admonish the prosecutor and at the same time to instruct the jury to ignore those remarks.”

“We know exactly what we are doing,” Parma said to Judge Flint. “We will stand on the record. We are entitled to introduce evidence of any crimes as motivation for the murder with which this defendant is being charged.”

Judge Flint said to the jury, “It is the law that a defendant being tried for one crime cannot be presumed guilty because of evidence of other crimes, except where such evidence is for the purpose of showing motivation. In view of the assurance of the prosecutor that that is the case here, I warn you that you are not to pay any attention to any evidence of any other crimes alleged to have been committed by this defendant, or to any evidence indicating the commission of such crimes, except for the purpose of showing motivation for the murder of the decedent, Marvin Billings.

“Proceed, Mr. Deputy, and please be careful to limit your remarks.”

“We know exactly what we are doing, Your Honor,” Parma said. “Our remarks are limited and will be limited. The evidence of other crimes is solely for the purpose of showing motivation.”

“Very well, proceed,” Judge Flint said.

“I am virtually finished, Your Honor.” Parma turned to the jury. “We expect to show that Dunleavey Jasper traced the stolen car to the possession of the defendant, that the defendant learned Dunleavey Jasper had a criminal record and that the car was stolen; that she thereupon conspired with Dunleavey Jasper to abduct Dorrie Ambler so that she could be removed as a possible applicant for a share of the Minden estate, and to discredit Miss Ambler by making it seem Dorrie Ambler had been the hit-and-run driver.

“We expect to show that in the course of carrying out this conspiracy the private detective, Marvin Billings, found out what was happening. I think it is a reasonable inference which you can draw from the evidence that Billings tried to blackmail the defendant.

“Had it not been that Marvin Billings felt that the remarkable resemblance between these women was due to a common ancestry, had he not felt he could work with Dorrie Ambler to get a share of the Harper Minden estate, this case would never have been brought to trial because then there would have been no murder.

“We hold no brief for the dead man. The evidence will show you he was in effect playing both ends against the middle. But no matter how cunning he may have been, no matter how low he may have been, the law protects him. His life was a human life. His killing was murder.

“So Marvin Billings went to the apartment of Dorrie Ambler, and his arrival was at the moment when Miss Ambler was being spirited down to another apartment on the floor below.

“Billings sounded the chimes. After a moment’s hesitation, the defendant opened the door, trusting to her resemblance to Dorrie Ambler to carry off the scene.

“At first Billings was deceived, but when he kept talking to the defendant he soon realized the impersonation. That was when he tried blackmail, and that was when the defendant shot him with a twenty-two revolver.

“Shortly after the shooting of Billings, the chimes on the apartment door sounded again.

“We expect to show you that the persons then at the door were none other than Perry Mason, the attorney for the defence, and Paul Drake, a private detective.

“The conspirators had to get out of the back door of the apartment. Acting upon the assumption that their callers did not know of this back door, they hurriedly dragged mattresses from the twin beds in the bedroom across the living-room into the kitchenette, and by using a kitchen table and the mattresses, barricaded the door.

“When Mason and Paul Drake entered the apartment, which they did after a few minutes, they found Marvin Billings unconscious and in a dying condition. They found the kitchen door barricaded in such a way that they thought for a while it was being held against their efforts to open it by someone in the kitchen.

“We expect to show that the unfortunate Dorrie Ambler, having been taken to Apartment 805, was given a hypodermic injection of morphia against her will and—”

“Now, just a moment,” Mason said. “Again we are going to interrupt the deputy district attorney and object to any evidence of what may have happened to Dorrie Ambler.”

“It goes to show motive,” Parma said.

“It can’t show motive for the murder of Marvin Billings,” Mason said, “because what the deputy prosecutor is talking about now is something that occurred after the shooting of Marvin Billings.”

“I think that is right,” Judge Flint ruled.

“Very well, if I am going to be limited in my proof I’ll pass this matter on my opening statement, ladies and gentlemen, but we expect to introduce proof and we will have a ruling on the matter as the witnesses come on the stand.

“I am not going to weary you with details. I have told you the general nature of the case so you can understand the evidence you will hear. You will hear the confession of one of the members of this conspiracy and you will hear evidence of admissions made by the defendant herself.

“We are going to ask a verdict of first-degree murder at your hands. However, as far as this trial is concerned, it is only necessary for you to determine just one thing.”

Parma held up his left index finger high above his head. “Just one thing, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, shaking the outstretched finger. “That is, whether or not the evidence in this case proves the defendant guilty of the crime of murder, the killing of Marvin Billings.

“We shall ask a verdict of guilty at your hands, a verdict of first-degree murder.”

Parma turned and walked back to his seat at the prosecutor’s table.

“Do you wish to make an opening statement, Mr. Mason?”

“No,” Mason said, “except that I wish the Court to admonish the jury that the statement of the prosecutor was inaccurate as a matter of law.”

“In what respect?” Judge Flint asked.

Mason arose and extended his left hand above his head, extending the left forefinger. “It isn’t a matter, Your Honour, of proving just one thing: whether the evidence shows the defendant guilty. It is a matter of proving two things.”

And Mason slowly raised his right hand and extended the right index finger. “It is a question of proving the defendant guilty beyond all reasonable doubt. I think the Court should so advise the jury.”

“Well, I think the jury understands that in any criminal case the evidence must prove the defendant guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.”

“Otherwise the defendant is entitled to a verdict of acquittal.”

“The Court will cover that matter in its instructions,” Judge Flint said.

Mason slowly lowered his hands with the extended forefingers and seated himself.

Judge Flint repressed a smile at the skillful manner in which Perry Mason, waiving his opening statement, had nevertheless scored a telling point on the prosecution.

“Call your first witness,” Judge Flint said to the prosecutor.

“I will call Emily Dickson.”

Mrs. Dickson, a rather attractive woman in her early forties, took the oath and seated herself on the witness stand after giving her name and address.

“What was your occupation on the sixth of September?” Parma asked.

“I was the manager of the Parkhurst Apartments.”

“You were residing there in the apartments?”

“I was.”

“Did you know Dorrie Ambler in her lifetime?”

“Just a minute,” Mason said. “If the Court please, I ask that the jury be admonished to disregard that question. I ask that the prosecutor be cited for misconduct. I object to any statement intimating that Dorrie Ambler is dead. It assumes a fact not in evidence.”

“I didn’t say she was dead,” Parma said. “I merely asked the witness if she knew Dorrie Ambler during her lifetime. That’s a perfectly permissible question. I can always ask that about anybody. I could ask her if she knew you during your lifetime.”

“The inference is that the person inquired about is no longer alive,” Mason said, “and I feel the question was deliberately slanted so as to convey that impression.”

“I think so too,” Judge Flint said. “Now, gentlemen, let’s not have any misunderstanding about this. I am willing to permit the prosecution to introduce evidence of any other crime, provided that evidence is necessarily pertinent to the present question before the jury, for the purpose of showing motive or method or a general pattern within the provisions of the rule with which I am quite sure you are all familiar.

“I have ruled that there is not going to be any evidence introduced of any crime committed after the alleged crime in this case was completed.”

“I’ll withdraw the question,” Parma said with poor grace.

Judge Flint said, “I advise the jury to disregard the question and any insinuation contained in the question or any thoughts which may have been placed in your minds because of the nature of the question. I am going to state further to the prosecutor that I will declare a mistrial in the event there are any further attempts to circumvent the ruling of the Court.”

“I wasn’t trying to circumvent the ruling of the Court,” Parma said.

“Well,” Judge Flint observed dryly, “you’re too much of a veteran not to know the effect of your question. Now I suggest that you proceed, and be very careful.”

“Very well,” Parma said, turning to the witness. “Did you know Dorrie Ambler prior to the sixth of September?”

“Yes.”

“For how long had you known her prior to September sixth?”

“Approximately — oh, I guess five or six months.”

“Miss Ambler had an apartment in the Parkhurst Apartments?”

“She did.”

“Where was it?”

“Apartment 907.”

“Now I’m going to ask you if you also rented Apartment 805 prior to the twelfth day of September, and if so, do you know the name of the tenant?”

“I do now. His name is Dunleavey Jasper, but at the time he told me he was William Camas.”

“When did you rent him Apartment 805?”

“On the eleventh of September.”

“Of this year?”

“Yes.”

“I have some further questions to ask of this witness upon another phase of the matter,” Parma said, “but I will put the witness on the stand at a later date.”

“Very well,” Judge Flint said, turning to Mason. “Cross-examine.”

“Can you describe Dorrie Ambler?” Mason asked.

“Yes. She was about twenty-five or six.”

“Eyes?”

“Hazel.”

“Hair?”

“Auburn.”

“General appearance?”

“She was almost the exact image of the defendant in this case, the woman sitting there at your left.”

“Oh, you notice the resemblance, do you?” Mason asked.

“I notice a very distinct resemblance — a startling resemblance.”

“Did you ever comment on it?”

“I certainly did.”

“Would it be possible to confuse the defendant with Dorrie Ambler and vice versa?”

“It would be very possible.”

“When did you first see the defendant?”

“When she was placed in a show-up box.”

“And at that time you identified her as Dorrie Ambler, didn’t you?” Mason asked.

“Objection,” Parma said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. Not proper cross-examination.”

“Overruled,” Judge Flint snapped.

“Well, I had been told that I was going to be called on to pick out Minerva Minden and I told them—”

“Never mind what you told them,” Mason said. “What did they tell you?”

“That they wanted me to pick out Minerva Minden.”

“And did you tell them you had never seen Minerva Minden before?”

“Yes.”

“But they still wanted you to identify a woman you had never seen?”

“They wanted me to see if she resembled Dorrie Ambler.”

“And you saw her in the show-up box?”

“Yes.”

“And noted her resemblance?”

“Yes.”

“How close a resemblance?”

“A very striking resemblance.”

“I’m going to repeat,” Mason said. “Did you identify the defendant as Dorrie Ambler?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Parma said.

“Overruled,” Judge Flint snapped.

“Yes, I did. I told them that was Dorrie Ambler that they had in the show-up box and then they convinced me—”

“Never mind what they convinced you about,” Mason said. “I’m just trying to find out what happened. Did you identify the woman in the show-up box as being Dorrie Ambler?”

“At first I did. Yes.”

“Oh, you made two identifications?”

“Well, they told me that— Well, if I’m not allowed to say what they told me I... Well, first I identified her as Dorrie Ambler and then I identified her as Minerva Minden.”

“Despite the fact you had never seen Minerva Minden?”

“I had seen her picture.”

“Where?”

“In the newspapers. That was how it happened that the police called on me in the first place.”

“How did they know you had seen her picture in the papers?”

“I rang them up and told them that the picture in the paper of Minerva Minden was actually the picture of Dorrie Ambler who had rented the apartment from me.”

“So then the police came to talk with you?”

“Yes.”

“When did Dorrie Ambler rent the apartment from you?”

“In May.”

“And how do you know it wasn’t the defendant, Minerva Minden, who rented the apartment from you?”

“Because I didn’t know her at that time. I had never seen her at that time.”

“But you admitted that you couldn’t tell her from Dorrie Ambler.”

“Oh, but I could, Mr. Mason. After I realized the resemblance and studied the defendant, as I told you, I made a second identification. I said after looking more closely, that the woman I had identified as Dorrie Ambler was someone who looked very much like her, but it wasn’t Miss Ambler.”

“At that time you were certain Miss Minden, the defendant, was not the person who had rented the apartment?”

“Absolutely certain.”

“Because of things the police had told you?”

“No. There were other means, other reasons. I convinced myself.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “No further cross-examination.”

Parma said, “You may step down, Mrs. Dickson.

“Now then, I am going to call Lieutenant Tragg to the stand very briefly, simply for a matter of identification.”

“Very well, Lieutenant Tragg to the stand,” Judge Flint ordered.

Tragg came forward, was sworn, testified that he had gone to Apartment 907 at the Parkhurst Apartments in response to a call, that he had found there a man in a dying condition; that the man was subsequently identified as Marvin Billings, a private detective.

“Now, what happened to Mr. Billings?”

“He died.”

“When?”

“He died on the way to the Receiving Hospital. He was dead on arrival. He had been shot in the chest and that wound proved fatal. That was on the twelfth day of September.”

“And how soon did he leave the apartment after you first saw him? That is, when did the ambulance take him away?”

“Within a matter of ten minutes... well, fifteen minutes at the outside.”

“Thank you,” Parma said. “You may cross-examine.”

“No questions,” Mason said.

“Call Delbert Compton,” Parma said.

Compton, a competent-appearing, heavy-set individual in his early fifties, eased himself into position in the witness chair and surveyed the courtroom with steely, watchful eyes.

“Your name is Delbert Compton, you reside in this city and are now and for some years last past have been the junior partner and manager of the Billings & Compton Detective Agency?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You handle most of the office work, and your partner, Marvin Billings, was in charge of the outside operations?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said, getting to his feet, “I think my associate is a little hesitant about pointing out that this man is a hostile witness. I would like to have the Court rule that he is a hostile witness and give us permission to ask leading questions.”

“He has shown no hostility so far,” Judge Flint said. “When the matter reaches that point, in case it does reach that point, you may then renew your motion. For the present the Court will take it under advisement. Go ahead, Mr. Parma.”

“Were you carrying on your business in this city on the sixth of September?”

“Yes, sir.”

“During the month of September were you employed by the defendant in this case?”

“Well... I suppose so... yes.”

“Who employed you?”

“The defendant’s representative, Henrietta Hull. I believe Mrs. Hull is her manager.”

“And what was the purpose of the employment?”

“I was instructed to put an ad in the paper, an ad asking for unattached women of a certain description.”

“Did you put such an ad in the paper?”

“I did.”

“The compensation was rather high?”

“A thousand dollars a month.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I had one of my female operatives rent a suite in a hotel and interview applicants.”

“And what instructions did you give your female operative?”

“Objected to,” Mason said, “as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, hearsay, a conversation taking place outside of the hearing of the defendant.”

“Sustained,” Judge Flint said.

“All right, I’ll put it this way,” Parma said. “What instructions were you told by Henrietta Hull to give your operative?”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell you what to do?” Parma asked.

“I didn’t say that. I said she didn’t tell me what instructions to give my operative.”

Parma looked at Judge Flint somewhat helplessly.

“All right,” Judge Flint said, “take your ruling. Ask leading questions.”

“I’ll put it this way,” Parma said. “Didn’t Henrietta Hull, acting on behalf of the defendant in this case, advise you in general terms to arrange an elaborate setup for interviewing applicants, but that their qualifications had nothing whatsoever to do with their ultimate selection, that you were to wait until a young woman came in who resembled a photograph which she gave you. That you were to hire the person who had the closest resemblance to that photo.”

The witness hesitated for a long time.

“Answer the question,” Judge Flint said.

“Well... yes.”

“Didn’t you hire a young woman named Dorrie Ambler, and didn’t she telephone you each day at an unlisted number in order to get instructions as to what she was to do?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t you report to Henrietta Hull that you had been able to hire not only an applicant who looked like the young woman in the photograph, but had hired the person shown in the photograph?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t Henrietta Hull say that was impossible and didn’t you tell her to see for herself, that you’d have this woman walk across a certain intersection at a fixed time and that Henrietta Hull could make surreptitious observations so as to convince herself?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t Henrietta Hull then tell you to start looking up this young woman’s background?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t you, in pursuance of instructions given by Henrietta Hull, get this woman to walk back and forth, up and down Hollywood Boulevard in the vicinity of the Western Avenue intersection to see if a witness, Mrs. Ella Granby, wouldn’t identify her as the person driving the car involved in a hit-and-run accident on September sixth?”

“Well, no, not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I didn’t tell her all that.”

“But you did tell her to walk up and down Hollywood Boulevard near the intersection of Western?”

“Well... yes.”

“And to report to you anything that happened?”

“Yes.”

“And she did report that a woman had made an identification?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t you then advise her that she could take the next day off and didn’t need to do anything?”

“I can’t remember my detailed instructions but something of that sort probably happened.”

“And all of that was under instructions from Henrietta Hull?”

“Yes.”

“You were reporting to Henrietta Hull regularly?”

“Yes.”

“Cross-examine,” Parma snapped.

Mason said, “How did you know Henrietta Hull was the representative of the defendant?”

“She told me so.”

“In a conversation?”

“Yes.”

“In person or over the telephone?”

“Over the telephone.”

“Then you have never seen Henrietta Hull. Is that correct?”

“That is correct. I talked with her over the telephone.”

“You received compensation for your work?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bill the defendant for that?”

“No, I did not.”

“Why?”

“I was paid in advance.”

“Who paid you?”

“I received the money from Henrietta Hull.”

“In the form of a check?”

“In the form of cash.”

“But if you have never met Henrietta Hull, she couldn’t have given you the cash.”

“She sent it to me.”

“How?”

“By messenger.”

“How much?”

“Thirty-five hundred dollars.”

“Did you see Dorrie Ambler personally?”

“Yes.”

“And you have seen the defendant?”

“More recently, yes. I am, of course, looking at her now.”

“Was there a striking physical resemblance between Dorrie Ambler and the defendant?”

“A very striking resemblance.”

Mason held his eyes on the witness. “For all you know, Mr. Compton,” he said, “you were hired, not by the defendant, but by Dorrie Ambler.”

“What?” the witness asked, startled.

“Dorrie Ambler,” Mason said, “wanted to establish a claim to the Harper Minden estate. She wanted a certain amount of notoriety in order to launch her campaign. She needed newspaper publicity. So she rang you up and told you she was Henrietta Hull and—”

“Just a minute, just a minute,” Parma shouted, jumping to his feet. “All this assumes facts not in evidence. It consists of a statement by counsel and I object to it on—”

“I withdraw the question,” Mason said, smiling, “and ask it this way. Mr. Compton, if Dorrie Ambler had wanted to attract attention to her remarkable similarity to the defendant in this case, and if she had called you up, told you she was Henrietta Hull and had asked you to put that ad in the paper and to hire Dorrie Ambler when she showed up to apply for the job, was there anything in the facts of the case as you know them and as covered by your testimony which would have negatived such an assumption?”

“Objected to,” Parma said, “as being argumentative and calling for a conclusion of the witness; as being not proper cross-examination and assuming facts not in evidence.”

“Sustained,” Judge Flint said.

Mason, having made his point so that the jurors could get it, smiled at the witness. “You don’t know that the person you were talking with on the telephone was Henrietta Hull, do you?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you ever at any time during the employment call Henrietta Hull?”

“No, sir. She called me.”

“Why didn’t you call her?”

“Because she told me not to. She said she would call me.”

“So you were never to call her at the house or her place of business?”

“Those were the instructions.”

“Given to you by someone who, for all you know, could have been Dorrie Ambler or any other woman?”

“Objected to as argumentative and not proper cross-examination,” Parma said.

“Overruled,” Judge Flint said.

“It was only a voice over the telephone,” Compton said.

“And from time to time this same voice would call you and give you instructions as to what you were to do?”

“Yes.”

“And tell you what instructions you were to give to Dorrie Ambler?”

“Yes.”

“You never met the defendant prior to her arrest?”

“No.”

“You didn’t ever have any conversation with her on the telephone?”

“No.”

“You never called the defendant to find out if she had authorized Henrietta Hull to make you any such proposition, and you never called Henrietta Hull?”

“That’s right.”

“No further questions,” Mason said.

Hamilton Burger rose to his feet. “If the Court please,” he said, “this next witness will undoubtedly be controversial. I am going to call him somewhat out of order. I am going to state to the Court that I make no apologies for what we have done in granting this witness a certain immunity from prosecution. We—”

“Just a minute,” Mason interrupted, getting to his feet, “I submit that this is an improper statement in front of the jury. This is not the time to argue the case, this is not the time to apologize for giving some criminal immunity in order to further the interests of the prosecutor.”

“Just a minute, just a minute, gentlemen,” Judge Flint interrupted. “I don’t want any personalities from either side, and there is no need for any argument. Mr. Burger, if you have another witness, call him.”

“Very well,” Burger said, turning and smiling at the jury, knowing that he had registered with them the thought that he wished to convey. “Call Dunleavey Jasper.”

Dunleavey Jasper was a rather slender young man in his early thirties who managed to convey the impression of slinking as he walked forward, held up his hand, was sworn, and took the witness stand.

“Now, your name is Dunleavey Jasper,” Hamilton Burger said. “Where do you reside, Mr. Jasper?”

“In the county jail.”

“You are being held there?”

“Yes.”

“You are charged with crime?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you first meet the defendant?”

“It was around the eleventh of September.”

“Did you know Dorrie Ambler in her lifetime?”

“Now, just a minute,” Judge Flint said. “I’ve already ruled on this matter. The words, ‘in her lifetime,’ are extraneous. The jurors are instructed to ignore that part of the question. Now, the question is, Mr. Jasper, whether you knew Dorrie Ambler.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you get acquainted with Dorrie Ambler?”

“It’s rather a long story.”

“Just go ahead and answer the question and never mind how long it takes. Keep your answer responsive to the question but tell how you happened to meet her.”

“She stole my getaway car.”

There was a startled gasp from many of the spectators in the courtroom. The jurors suddenly sat forward in their chairs.

“Will you repeat that, please?” Hamilton Burger said.

“She stole my getaway car.”

“What was your getaway car?”

“It was a Cadillac automobile, licence number WHW 694.”

“This was your getaway car?”

“My partner and I were going to use it for a getaway. We didn’t have title to the car.”

“Where had you picked up the car?”

“We had stolen it in San Francisco.”

“Who was this partner you refer to?”

“A man named Barlowe Dalton.”

“And you say this was a getaway car.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where was it when it was taken from you?”

“It was at the Montrose Country Club.”

“And why do you call it a getaway car?”

“Because my partner and I had intended to get in the women’s cloakroom, go through the cloaks there, get some fur coats, purses, anything of value we could find, and make a getaway.”

“And what happened?”

“A woman stole our car.”

“Can you explain that?”

“This woman was at the dance. She was intoxicated. She had a fight with her escort and walked out on him, jumped in our getaway car which was standing there with the motor running and drove away.”

“And what did you do after that?”

“Well, there was one thing we had to do. We had to find that car.”

“Why?”

“Because we had left something over ten thousand dollars in currency in the glove compartment.”

“And where did this currency come from?”

“We had held up the branch bank in Santa Maria and had taken about eighteen thousand bucks. Ten thousand was wrapped up and was in the glove compartment. The rest of the money we had divided and had on us, about three — four thousand dollars apiece.”

“This was stolen money?”

“That’s right.”

“And how about the money that was in the glove compartment? What were the denominations?”

“That was all in one-hundred-dollar bills. The other money we had was in smaller bills, twenties, tens, a few fifties; but there was ten thousand in hundred-dollar bills, and we thought that money might be hot.”

“What do you mean, hot?”

“That perhaps the bank had the serial numbers on it. We had decided to hold it for a while.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, we had to find the car, so we made inquiries through some of our underworld connections and learned that the car had been involved in a hit and run accident. And then we had a tip that the car was stashed in the garage of Dorrie Ambler, so we found the car but the money was gone. So then we started shadowing Dorrie Ambler.”

“And did you shadow her?” Burger asked.

“Yes. We had some difficulty picking up her trail but we finally did so and shadowed her for several hours.”

“Where did she go and when?” Burger asked.

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

“We’ll connect it up, Your Honor,” Burger said.

“Overruled.”

“She went to the office of Perry Mason,” the witness said.

“And then?” Burger asked, as the jurors leaned forward in tense interest.

“And from there to the airport where she waited until the defendant went into the women’s room. At that time she jumped up, approached the news stand, said, ‘This isn’t a stick-up,’ fired a gun three times and ran into the women’s room.”

“Then what happened?” Burger asked.

“Shortly after that the defendant emerged from the room and was arrested. At first she had us fooled, but there was a difference in voices. So after the police took the defendant away we waited, and sure enough Dorrie Ambler emerged from the rest room. At this time she was wearing a coat which covered her clothes, and dark glasses.”

“What did you do then?” Burger asked.

“Followed Dorrie Ambler back to her apartment. By that time we had learned the other woman, the one the police had arrested, was Minerva Minden, an heiress; so we decided we might be on the track of something big.”

“And what did you do then?”

“We waited until the defendant had been released on bail and then we contacted her.”

“By her, you mean the defendant?”

“Right.”

“Both you and Barlowe Dalton contacted her?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“At a cocktail lounge that she suggested.”

“And what happened there?”

“We had a conversation in which we tried to pin something on her — something that would give us an opening for a shakedown, but she was too smart for us.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She suggested that we had better go to the police if we thought something was wrong.”

“And then what happened? Go right ahead.”

“Well, naturally we couldn’t afford to have the police nosing around, and what with one thing and another she found out we were a couple of pretty hot torpedoes. The next thing I knew she was propositioning us.”

“What do you mean by propositioning?”

“She suggested that she wanted to have Dorrie Ambler kidnapped. She offered to pay twenty-five thousand dollars if we’d do the job.”

“Did she say why?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“She said Dorrie Ambler had seen her pictures in the papers and had decided to cash in on the resemblance by claiming she was the daughter of her mother’s sister and that they had the same father, that Dorrie’s father was also her father.

“She said Dorrie was clever and that she was trying to bring about some situation where she would be mistaken for the defendant, that some man was backing Dorrie with a lot of money and was trying to make such a spectacular case of it that it would cost her a lot of money to buy Dorrie off.

“So then we told the defendant Dorrie had grabbed off ten grand that belonged to us and that we’d decided to get it back — that she couldn’t do that to us, and one thing led to another and finally the defendant asked us if we could get Dorrie... well, out of the picture.”

“And what did you and your partner say to that?” Burger asked.

“Well, we said we could if the price was right. Well, she offered us twenty grand and we laughed at her and then she finally came up to fifty grand with five grand additional to cover initial expenses and as a guarantee of good faith on her part.”

“Go on,” Hamilton Burger said to the witness. “What happened after that?”

“We started making plans.”

“Immediately?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right — at the time of that same conversation.”

“Now, when you say we started making plans, whom do you mean?”

“Well, there was the defendant, Minerva Minden, my partner, Barlowe Dalton, and me.”

“And what did you do?”

“Well, she gave us the five grand and told us we’d better get busy.”

“And what did you do?”

“We went to the Parkhurst Apartments; that is, I did, and cased the joint.”

“Now, what do you mean by casing the joint?”

“Well, we looked the place over and made plans for handling things.”

“And what did you decide on? What did you actually do?”

“The first thing we did was to get in touch with the manager to see if some apartment on the eighth or ninth floors was vacant. We wanted a close-in place for a base of operations.”

“What did you find?”

“I found an apartment on the eighth floor was vacant, 805; that was right close to the stairs and almost directly under Apartment 907 where this Dorrie Ambler had her residence.”

“You rented that apartment?”

“Yes, sir. I told the manager that I wanted an apartment, that I thought that 805 would be about right but that I wanted my wife to look at it, that my wife was coming down from San Francisco, that she’d been up with her father who’d been very sick, and she wouldn’t be in for a day or so. I suggested that I pay a hundred dollars for a three-day option on the place and that my wife would look at it and if she liked it, then I’d sign up a lease on it and pay the first and last months’ rent.”

“What name did you give?”

“The name of William Camas.”

“And you were given a key to the apartment on that basis?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Well, it was all fixed up with the defendant that right after the court hearing on her case, which was coming up the next day, she’d rush out to the apartment house and we’d put our plan in operation and get rid of Dorrie Ambler.”

“Now you say, ‘get rid of her.’ Do you mean— Well, what do you mean?”

“Well, it eventually turned out we were supposed to get rid of her, but at first the talk was only about kidnapping.”

“All right, what happened?”

“Well, you see the defendant was going to come down to join us immediately after her court hearing was finished.”

“Did she say why she’d picked that particular time?”

“Yes, she said that would be the time when she would be free of shadows and reporters and all that stuff. She said that her attorney would get her out of the court and down in his car and drive her for half a dozen blocks to a place where she had her car parked, that the attorney would give instructions to her to go into hiding and stay in hiding, probably to go home; that she’d come and join us. She said that in case anything should go wrong with our scheme that she could go to the door and impersonate Dorrie Ambler and explain any noise or commotion or anything of that sort. In that way we wouldn’t stand any risk.”

“All right, what happened?”

“Well, we had a chance to nab Dorrie Ambler while she was in the kitchen. We knocked on the back door and said we had a delivery, and she opened the door and we grabbed her right then.”

“What did you do?”

“We put a gag in her mouth, put a gun in her back and hustled her down the back stairs and into Apartment 805. Then we doped her with a shot of morphine and put her out.”

“Then what?”

“Shortly after that the defendant showed up. She wanted us to get out fast. She said Dorrie Ambler had been consulting Perry Mason and we didn’t have much time, that Mason wasn’t the sort to let grass grow under his feet. But we reminded her about the ten grand. We really took that apartment to pieces, looking for it.”

“Did you find it?”

“No... That is, I don’t think we did.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, my partner, Barlowe Dalton, acted just a little bit strange. I got to thinking afterwards perhaps he might have found it and just stuck it in his pocket and pretended that he hadn’t found it. In that way he’d have had the whole thing for himself instead of making a split.”

“You don’t know that he found it?”

“No, sir. All I know is that I didn’t find it.’

“Very well. Then what happened?”

“Then I told the defendant we’d better arrange for a getaway in case something went wrong.”

“What did you do?”

“I started barricading the kitchen door; that is, the door between the kitchen and the living-room so we could open it ourselves but hold off anyone that came in the front door — and that was when the doorbell rang and this man was there.”

“What man?”

“This detective, this man that was killed, Marvin Billings.”

“All right, go on. Tell us what happened.”

“Well, I’m getting just a little ahead of my story. The defendant also frisked the apartment looking for something. She didn’t tell me what, but she had found a twenty-two-calibre revolver.”

“The defendant had this?”

“That’s right. She said she was going to show Dorrie Ambler a thing or two about the difference between lead bullets and blank cartridges.”

“And then?”

“Well, then is when we come to this thing that I was telling you about. The doorbell rang, and this Marvin Billings was there, and the defendant went to the door and tried to shoo him away.”

“What happened?”

“He just pushed his way right into the place and of course right away he saw that it was a wreck, that we’d been searching it, and he wanted to know what was going on. And the defendant, pretending to be Dorrie Ambler, said that somebody had evidently been in looking for something and that was when Billings tried to put the bite on her.”

“Now, what do you mean by that?”

“Well, he wanted to shake her down.”

“Where were you?”

“I was in the bedroom.”

“Did he see you?”

“No, he couldn’t see me. I was behind the door.”

“What happened?”

“He told the defendant that he knew what she’d been up to. He thought he was talking to Dorrie—”

“Never mind telling us what you think he thought,” Hamilton Burger interrupted with ponderous dignity, creating the impression that he wanted to be thoroughly fair and impartial. “All you can testify is what you saw and heard in the presence of the defendant.”

“Well, he told her he knew what she’d been up to, that she was an impostor and that she needed a better manager than she had; that he was declaring himself in and that he wanted part of the gravy, and he said something about not being born yesterday, and— Well, that’s when she said—”

“Now, when you say ‘she,’ to whom do you refer?”

“Minerva Minden, the defendant.”

“All right, what did she say?”

“She said, ‘You may not have been born yesterday but you’re not going to live until tomorrow,’ and I heard the sound of a shot and then the sound of a body crashing to the floor.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran out and said, ‘You’ve shot him!’ And she said, ‘Of course I’ve shot him. The blackmailing bastard would have had us all tied up in knots if I hadn’t shot him. But they’ll never pin it on me. It’s in Dorrie Ambler’s apartment and she’ll get the blame for it.’ ”

“And then what?”

“Well, then I bent over him and said the guy wasn’t even dead, and she said, ‘Well, we’ll soon fix that,’ and raised the gun and then lowered it and a smile came over her face. She said, ‘No, better yet, let him recover consciousness long enough to tell his story. He thinks Dorrie Ambler shot him. That will account for Dorrie’s disappearance. Everyone will think she shot this guy and then took it on the lam.’ ”

“The defendant said that?”

“That’s right. And from that time on she was just tickled to death with herself. She was feeling as though she’d really done a job.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, almost immediately after that the chimes rang, and I grabbed the other mattress and rushed it into the kitchen and we arranged a table against the door and the mattresses so that it barricaded the kitchen door. Then we waited a minute to see what would happen. That’s when the defendant got in a panic and wanted to run down the stairs. I slapped her and she started to scream. I had to grab her and put a hand over her mouth.”

“Why?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“Because with someone at the door we couldn’t get to the elevator. Our escape was cut off that way. We’d have to go down the stairs. I didn’t want them to come around to the back door and catch us there, so I wanted to be sure they were all the way in the apartment before we sneaked out the back door. That tension of waiting was too much for the defendant’s nerves.”

“What did you do?”

“I left the back door open.”

“Where was your partner, Barlowe Dalton, at that time?”

“He was down in 805 riding herd on Dorrie Ambler.”

“Go on, what happened?”

“Well, the people at the door turned out to be Perry Mason and this detective, Paul Drake. I waited until they smashed their way into the apartment and had got into the living-room, and then the defendant and I slipped out the back door, went down the stairs and holed up in Apartment 805 with Barlowe Dalton and Dorrie Ambler. Dorrie Ambler had been doped and was unconscious by that time.”

“Go on,” Hamilton Burger said. “What happened after that?”

“Well, we holed up there. Cops were all over the place and we just sat tight and believe me, I was scared stiff. I told the defendant that if the cops started checking and found us there, it was the gas chamber for all of us, that she’d had no business killing that guy!”

“What did she say?”

“She’d got her nerve back by that time. She laughed and called me chicken and brought out some cards and suggested we play poker.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, we hung around there until quite late and then the defendant said she’d put on Dorrie Ambler’s clothes and go out and see if the coast was clear; that we could watch out the window and if the coast was all clear she’d blink her lights a couple of times on her parked automobile at the curb and that would show us that no cops were around, and we could take Dorrie out.”

“Was Dorrie conscious by that time?”

“She was conscious but groggy. We persuaded her that she wasn’t going to get hurt if she did exactly what we told her.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, the defendant went out. She left us a gun — a thirty-eight.”

“Did you have any talk with her about what happened after that?”

“Yes, she told me about it the next day.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that just as luck would have it, she got in the elevator with some woman and a dog, who was already in the elevator, evidently coming down from one of the upper floors. She said that the woman acted like she knew her but that she turned her back and stood up in front of the elevator door, wondering if the woman was going to speak to her. She said the dog must have known Dorrie Ambler because he got Dorrie Ambler’s smell from her clothes and came and pushed his nose against her skirt and leg and wagged his tail. She said it really gave her a bad time.”

“And what did she do, of your own knowledge? That is, what do you know?”

“Well, I was looking out of the window of the apartment, and she drove her car around to the designated place and blinked the lights so we knew the coast was clear, so then we took Dorrie Ambler down.”

“And what happened with Miss Ambler?”

“I don’t know of my own knowledge, only what Barlowe Dalton told me.”

“You didn’t stay with Barlowe Dalton?”

“No, it was understood that he’d take care of Dorrie and that I’d go over the apartment with an oil rag, covering every place where fingerprints might have been left... Incidentally, we’d done that in Dorrie Ambler’s apartment as we were searching it. We all wore gloves, and I was going over things with a rag, scrubbing out fingerprints.”

“Now then,” Hamilton Burger said, “I’m going to ask you a question which you can answer yes or no. Did Barlowe Dalton tell you what he had done with Dorrie Ambler?”

“Yes.”

“Did you subsequently communicate with the police to tell them what Barlowe Dalton had told you? Mind you now, I am not asking for hearsay. I am not asking what Barlowe Dalton told you. I am asking you simply what you did.”

“Yes. I communicated with the police.”

“With whom?”

“With Lieutenant Tragg.”

“And what did you tell him? Now, don’t say what you actually told him, simply describe what you told him with reference to what Barlowe Dalton had told you.”

“I told him what Barlowe Dalton had told me.”

“Where is Barlowe Dalton now?”

“He is dead.”

“When did he die and how did he die?”

“He died on the twentieth.”

“How did he die?”

“He was killed by a policeman in a holdup.”

Hamilton Burger turned to Perry Mason and bowed. “You may cross-examine,” he said.

Minerva Minden grabbed Mason’s coat sleeve, pulled herself close to his ear. “That’s a pack of lies,” she said, “absolute, vicious lies. I never saw this man in my life.”

Mason nodded, got to his feet and approached the witness.

“How do you know that Barlowe Dalton is dead?” he asked.

“I saw him killed.”

“Where were you?”

“I was standing near him.”

“And were you armed at the time?”

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

“Overruled,” Judge Flint snapped.

“Were you armed at the time?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“What did you do with the gun?”

“I dropped it to the floor.”

“And the police recovered it?”

“Yes.”

“Where was your partner when he was shot?”

“At the Acme Supermarket.”

“At what time?”

“About two o’clock in the morning.”

“And what were you doing there?”

“Objected to as not proper cross-examination, incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, calling for matters not covered under direct examination,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Overruled,” Judge Flint snapped.

“My partner and I were holding up the place.”

“Your partner was killed and you were arrested?”

“Yes.”

“And you were taken to jail?”

“Yes.”

“And how long after you were taken to jail was it that you told the police all you knew about the defendant and Dorrie Ambler?”

“Not very long. You see, my conscience had been bothering me about that murder and about what had happened to Dorrie Ambler. I couldn’t get that off my mind.”

“How long after the time that you were arrested did you finally tell the police the complete story?”

“It was... well, it was a couple of days.”

“You had been caught red-handed in connection with the perpetration of a burglary.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You knew that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you previously been convicted of a felony?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many times?”

“Three times.”

“Of what felony?”

“Armed robbery, grand larceny, burglary.”

“You knew that you’d go up for life as an habitual criminal?”

“Just a minute,” Hamilton Burger interrupted. “That is objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, not proper cross-examination.”

“I am simply trying to show the bias and motivation of the witness,” Mason said. “I am going to connect it up with my next questions.”

“I think I see the line of your questioning,” Judge Flint said. “The objection is overruled.”

“Yes.”

“You knew kidnapping was punishable by death?”

“Under certain circumstances, yes.”

“You knew that you had conspired with the defendant to commit a murder?”

“Yes.”

“As well as a kidnapping?”

“Yes.”

“You knew that you were an accessory after the fact in the murder of Marvin Billings?”

“Well... all right, I suppose I was.”

“And you were in quite a predicament when the authorities were questioning you.”

“Yes, I was.”

“And didn’t you finally offer to give them a confession on a crime they were very anxious to solve, if they would give you immunity from prosecution on all of these other charges?”

“Well... not exactly.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that they told me that I had better come clean and throw myself on their mercy and— Well, they were the ones who said they had the deadwood on me and it would mean that I got life as an habitual criminal and they’d see that I served every minute of it, unless I co-operated and helped them clear up a bunch of unsolved crimes.”

“So then the conversation took another turn, didn’t it?” Mason said. “You started talking about what would happen to you if you were able to help the officers clear up a murder that they wanted to make a record on.”

“Well, something like that.”

“You told Lieutenant Tragg that you could clear up some matters for the police if you received immunity for your part in the crime, and if you received immunity for the holdup of the supermarket. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, I believe I brought the matter up, yes.”

“In other words, you told Lieutenant Tragg you were willing to make a trade?’

“Not in those words.”

“But that was what it amounted to.”

“Well, yes.”

“And you wanted to be guaranteed immunity before you told your story to the district attorney.”

“Well, that was good business.”

“That’s the point I’m getting at,” Mason said. “This conscience of yours didn’t take over all at once. You decided to do a little bargaining before letting your conscience take over.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell the police what I knew unless I got immunity. I wasn’t going to put my head in a noose just to accommodate them.”

“And did you get immunity?”

“I got the promise of immunity.”

“A flat promise of immunity?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Now, just a minute,” Mason said. “Let’s refresh your recollection. Wasn’t it a conditional promise of immunity? Didn’t the district attorney say to you in effect that he couldn’t give you immunity until he had first heard your story? That if your story resulted in proving a murder and bringing the murderer to justice, that then you would be given immunity provided your testimony was of material help?”

“Well, something like that.”

“That was what you were angling for.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s what you got.”

“Yes.”

“So,” Mason said, leveling his finger at the witness, “as you sit there on that witness stand, you are charged with a crime which, with your prior record, will probably mean a sentence to life imprisonment, and you have made a bargain with the district attorney that if you can concoct a story which you can tell on this witness stand, which will convince this jury so that they will convict the defendant of first-degree murder, you can walk out of this courtroom scot free and resume your life of crime; but if, on the other hand, your story isn’t good enough to convince the jury, then you don’t get immunity.”

“Now, just a minute, just a minute,” Hamilton Burger shouted, getting to his feet. “That question is improper, it calls for a conclusion of the witness, it’s argumentative—”

“I think I will sustain the objection,” Judge Flint said. “Counsel can ask the question in another way.”

“The district attorney told you that if your story resulted in clearing up a murder you might be given immunity?”

“Yes.”

“And that he couldn’t guarantee you immunity until he had heard your story on the witness stand.”

“Not exactly.”

“But the understanding was, as he pointed out, that you had to come through with your testimony on the witness stand before you got immunity.”

“Well, I had to complete my testimony, yes.”

“And it had to result in clearing up a murder.”

“Yes.”

“And bringing the murderer to justice.”

“Yes.”

“In other words, obtaining a conviction,” Mason said.

“Well, nobody said that in so many words.”

“I’m saying it in so many words. Look in your own mind. That’s the thought that’s in the back of your mind right now, isn’t it? You want to get this defendant convicted of murder so you can go free of the crimes you committed.”

“I want to get square with myself. I want to tell the truth.”

Mason made a gesture of disgust. “The truth!” he exploded. “You had no intention of telling your story to the police until you were apprehended in the commission of a crime. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, I had thought about it.”

“You’d thought about it to this extent,” Mason said. “You’d thought about it to the extent of believing that you had an ace trump which you could play when you got into trouble. That you were going to go out and hit the jackpot. You were going on a crime binge; and that in the event you were caught, you would then make a deal with the prosecutor to clean up a murder case in return for immunity.”

“I didn’t have any such idea.”

“How many other crimes had you committed during the period between the Dorrie Ambler episode and your attempt to rob the supermarket?”

“I... I... not any.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Mason said. “Didn’t your bargain with the police include the fact that you were going to clean up certain other holdups and clear the record on them?”

“Well, yes.”

“In other words, you were going to confess to all those crimes.”

“Yes.”

“And be given immunity.”

“Yes.”

“Did you or did you not commit those crimes that you were going to confess to?”

“If the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said, “this cross-examination is entirely improper. The questions are purely for the purpose of degrading the witness in the eyes of the jury and they have no other reason.”

“The objection is overruled,” Judge Flint said. “Had you or had you not committed all those crimes that you were going to confess to?” Mason asked. “Crimes that you did confess to.”

“I hadn’t committed all of them, no.”

“You had committed some of them?”

“Yes.”

“And on the other crimes,” Mason said, “you were going to tell a lie in order to clear up the records so that the police department could wipe them off the books, with the understanding that you would be given immunity for all those crimes and wouldn’t be prosecuted.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that,” the witness said. “They wouldn’t buy a pig in a poke. I had to make good first.”

“Make good in what way?”

“With my testimony.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “If your testimony wasn’t strong enough to result in a conviction for this defendant, the deal was off. Isn’t that right?”

“I... I didn’t say it that way.”

“You may think you haven’t,” Mason said, turning on his heel and walking back to his chair. “That’s all the cross-examination I have of this witness at this time.”

Hamilton Burger, his face flushed and angry, said, “I’ll recall Lieutenant Tragg to the stand.”

“You have already been sworn, Lieutenant Tragg,” Judge Flint said. “Just take the stand.”

Tragg nodded, settled himself in the witness chair.

“Lieutenant Tragg,” Burger said, “I will ask you if, following a conversation with Dunleavey Jasper, you made a trip to the vicinity of Gray’s Well by automobile?”

“I did.”

“And what did you look for?”

“I looked for any place where the automobile road ran within a few feet of a sloping sand dune so constituted that one man could drag a body down the slope of the sand dune.”

“I object, if the Court please,” Mason said, “to the last part of the witness’ statement as a conclusion of the witness, not responsive to the question and having no bearing on the facts of the case as we have those facts at present.”

“The objection is sustained. The last part of the answer will go out,” Judge Flint said.

“And what did you find?” Hamilton Burger asked, smiling slightly at the knowledge he had got his point across to the jury.

“After three or four false leads, we found a sand hill where there were faint indications that something had disturbed the surface of the sand, and by following those indications to the bottom of the sand hill and digging we found the badly decomposed body of a woman.”

“Were you able to identify that body?”

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

“The objection is overruled. This evidence, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is being admitted purely for the purpose of corroborating the testimony of the previous witness and not with the idea that any less evidence would be required in the case at bar because there might be evidence indicating the possible commission of another crime. Nor are you to permit yourselves to consider any subsequent crime, even for the purpose of proving motivation, but only for the purpose of corroborating the testimony of the previous witness. You are to consider this evidence only for that limited purpose. Continue, Mr. Prosecutor.”

“I will ask you this, Lieutenant Tragg. Was there anything anywhere on the body that gave any clue as to its identity?”

“There was.”

“Will you describe it, please?”

“The tips of the fingers were badly decomposed. The weather had been intensely hot. The body had been buried in a rather shallow sand grave. Putrefaction and an advanced stage of decomposition made it difficult to make a positive identification. However, by a process of pickling the fingers in a formaldehyde solution and hardening them, we were able to get a fairly good set of fingerprints sufficient to give certain aspects of identification.”

“Now then, Lieutenant Tragg, I will ask you if you made prints of the thumbs of this body.”

“We did. We printed all the fingers as best we could.”

“I am at the moment particularly interested in the thumbs. I am going to ask you if you found any other physical evidence on the body.”

“We did.”

“What did you find?”

“We found a purse, and in that purse we found a receipt for rent of Apartment 907 at the Parkhurst Apartments. That receipt was made out in the name of Dorrie Ambler. We also found a key to Apartment 907. We found some other receipts made to Dorrie Ambler.”

“Did you find a driving licence made to Dorrie Ambler?”

“Not there.”

“Please pay attention to my question, Lieutenant. I didn’t ask you that question. I asked you if you found a driving licence made out to Dorrie Ambler.”

“We did.”

“Where did you find that?”

“That driving licence was in the possession of the defendant at the time of her arrest. It was tucked down in a concealed pocket in her purse.”

“And did that driving licence contain the thumbprint of the applicant?”

“It contained a photostat of it.”

“And did you subsequently attempt to compare the thumbprint of the cadaver you discovered with the thumbprint on the driving licence of Dorrie Ambler?”

“I did.”

“With what result?”

“Objected to as calling for a conclusion of the witness,” Mason said. “It is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It is not the best evidence. The jury are entitled to have the thumbprints presented to them for comparison, and Lieutenant Tragg can, if he wishes, point out points of similarity in the prints. But he cannot testify to his conclusion.”

“I think I will sustain the objection,” Judge Flint said.

“Very well. It will prolong the case,” Hamilton Burger said.

“In a case of this magnitude the time element is not particularly essential, Mr. Prosecutor,” Judge Flint rebuked.

Hamilton Burger bowed gravely.

He introduced a photographic enlargement of the thumbprint of Dorrie Ambler, taken from her application for a driving licence. Then he introduced a photograph of the thumbprint of the woman whose body Lieutenant Tragg had found.

“Now then, Lieutenant Tragg,” Hamilton Burger said, “by pointing to these two enlarged photographs which are on easels standing where the jurors can see them, can you point out any similarities?”

“I can. I have listed the points of similarity.”

“How many do you find?”

“I find six.”

“Will you point them out to the jury, please? Take this pointer and point to them on the easels.”

Lt. Tragg pointed out the various points of similarity.

“And these are all?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“No, sir. They are not all. They are the only ones that I can be sufficiently positive of to make a complete identification. You will realize that due to the process of putrefaction and decomposition it was exceedingly difficult to get a good legible fingerprint from the body of the deceased. We did the best we could, that’s all.”

“Were you able to form an opinion as to the age and sex of the decedent?”

“Oh, yes. The body was that of a female, apparently in the early twenties.”

“And you took specimens of hair from the body?”

“We did. And those were compared with the hair colour of Dorrie Ambler as mentioned in the application for driving licence.”

“Did you find anything else at or near the body of this woman?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“We found a thirty-eight-calibre revolver with one discharged shell and five loaded shells. It was a Smith and Wesson with a two-inch barrel, Number C-48809.”

“Did you subsequently make tests with that gun in the ballistics department?”

“I did.”

“You fired test bullets through it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And did you make a comparison with any other bullet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What bullet?”

“A bullet that had been recovered from the skull of the body I found there in the sand hills.”

“And what did you find?”

“The bullets showed identical striations. The bullets had been fired from the same gun; that is, the fatal bullet matched absolutely with the test bullets.”

“Do you have photographs showing the result of the experiments?”

“I do.”

“Will you present them, please?”

Lt. Tragg presented photographs of the fatal bullet and the test bullet.

“What is this line of demarcation in the middle?”

“That is a line of demarcation made in a comparison microscope. The bullet above that line is the fatal bullet; the bullet below is the test bullet.”

“And those bullets are rotated on this comparison microscope until you reach a point where the lines of identity coincide? Where the striations are continuations of each other?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when that happens, what does it indicate, Lieutenant?”

“That the bullets were both fired from the same gun.”

“And that is the case here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said abruptly.

Mason approached the witness. “Lieutenant Tragg, was the body you discovered that of Dorrie Ambler? Please answer that question yes or no.”

Lt. Tragg hesitated. “I think it—”

“I don’t want to know what you think,” Mason interrupted. “I want to know what you know. Was the body that of Dorrie Ambler or not?”

“I don’t know,” Tragg said.

“You didn’t get enough points of similarity from the fingerprint to establish identification?”

“I will state this,” Lt. Tragg said, “we got enough points of identification to show a very strong probability.”

“But you can’t establish it by definite proof as to identification?”

“Well...”

“Be frank, Lieutenant,” Mason interrupted. “It takes a minimum of twelve points of identity to establish positive identification, does it not?”

“Well, no, it does not,” Tragg said. “We have had rather a large number of cases where we were able to make identification from fewer points of identity.”

“How many?”

“Well, in some instances, nine or ten points are sufficient where the circumstances are such that we can negative the possibility of accidental duplication.”

“But those circumstances didn’t exist in this case?”

“No.”

“You don’t consider that six points of similarity are sufficient to prove identity.”

“Not by themselves. There are, of course, other matters. When you consider the probabilities of six points of similarity in the fingerprints where it was impossible to obtain a completely legible impression; when you consider rental receipts in the name of Dorrie Ambler; when you consider the key to the apartment being found in the purse of the decedent; when you consider the age, the sex, the size, the coloration of the hair, and group all those together, we can determine a very strong mathematical probability.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “You have a strong mathematical probability of identity. Yet you can’t testify that the body was that of Dorrie Ambler.”

“I can’t swear to it positively, no, sir.”

“Now, you talk about the mathematical probabilities of sex, among other things,” Mason said. “Sex alone would be of poor probative value, would it not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Now, the similarity of six points of identification would not prove the fingerprints were identical?”

“No, I have explained that. However, I can list the probabilities in this way. The identity of the six points of similarity would give us, I would say, about one chance in fifty that the body was not that of Dorrie Ambler. The presence of the key to the apartment makes another mathematical factor. There are hundreds of apartment houses in Los Angeles. In the apartment house in question there are ten floors. Each has thirty apartments, and the fact that the key to Apartment 907 was found would then be one in three hundred, and multiplying one in three hundred by fifty we have a factor of one in fifteen thousand, and—”

“Now, just a minute,” Mason interrupted. “You are not qualifying as an expert mathematician, Lieutenant Tragg.”

“Well, I’m an expert in the field of criminal investigation and I can make the ordinary mathematical computations.”

“Exactly,” Mason said, “and you can twist them so that you can come up with a perfectly astronomical figure when it suits your purpose.

“We could, for instance, go at it this way. You could say that there are only two sexes; therefore the fact that the decedent was a female gives us a one out of two chance; that there are only one-tenth of adult females within the age bracket you were able to determine; that therefore you have a factor of twenty to one that this was the person in question; that of the persons in that age group only approximately one in twenty have that coloration of hair so you can multiply and get a factor of four hundred to one; and—”

“Now, that’s not fair,” Lt. Tragg interrupted. “That’s distorting the facts.”

“But it’s following the same line of reasoning that you use in trying to establish a mathematical law of probabilities,” Mason said. “I’m going to put it to you just this way. You can’t state beyond a reasonable doubt that the body was that of Dorrie Ambler, can you?”

“No.”

“That’s all,” Mason said.

“Now I wish to call one more witness, perhaps out of order,” Hamilton Burger said. “I wish to call Rosy Chester.”

Rosy Chester, a red-haired, rather voluptuous woman with a hard, cynical mouth and alert eyes, came forward and was sworn.

“Where is your residence?” Hamilton Burger asked.

“At the present time in the county jail.”

“Are you acquainted with the defendant?”

“I am.”

“When did you first meet the defendant?”

“We were cell mates for a night.”

“On that occasion did you have any discussion with this defendant about Dorrie Ambler?”

“Yes.”

“What, if anything, did the defendant say about her?”

“The defendant said that Dorrie Ambler would never be seen again.”

“Was there any further conversation?” Burger asked.

“I asked her if she wasn’t worried that Dorrie Ambler could collect a share of the estate, and she laughed and said Dorrie Ambler would never show up to claim any share of any estate.”

“Do you know whether this was before or after the body had been discovered?”

“I think the body had been discovered, but the defendant didn’t know about it. It hadn’t been announced publicly.”

“Cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.

“Are you awaiting trial on some charge?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Possession of marijuana.”

“As soon as you had this conversation with the defendant you communicated with the prosecutor?”

“Shortly afterwards.”

“How did you reach him?”

“He reached me.”

“Oh,” Mason said, “then you were told that you were going to be put in the same cell with the defendant and to try to get her to talk?”

“Something like that.”

“And you did try to get her to talk?”

“Well— Of course when you’re together in a cell that way you don’t have much to talk about and—”

“Did you or did you not try to get her to talk?”

“Well... yes.”

“And tried to lead her into making some incriminating statement?”

“I tried to get her to talk.”

“Under instructions from the district attorney?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“And why did you take it on yourself to act as a source of information for the district attorney?”

“He asked me to.”

“And what did he tell you he would do if you were successful?”

“He didn’t tell me anything.”

“He didn’t make you any promises?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now then,” Mason said, “what did he say about the fact that he couldn’t make you any promises?”

“Oh,” she said, “he told me that if he made any promises to me that that would impair the weight of my testimony so that I’d just have to trust his sense of gratitude.”

Mason smiled and turned to the jury. “That,” he said, “is all.”

Hamilton Burger flushed, said, “That’s all.”

Judge Flint said, “Court will now take a recess until tomorrow morning at nine-thirty a.m. During that time the defendant will be remanded to custody, and the jurors will not discuss the case among themselves or permit it to be discussed in their presence or form or express any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant.”

Judge Flint arose and left the bench.

Minerva Minden clutched Mason’s arm.

“Mr. Mason,” she said, “I have a confession to make.”

“No, you haven’t,” Mason told her.

“I do, I do. You must know something, you simply must. Otherwise I’ll... I’ll be convicted of a murder I didn’t do.”

Mason’s eyes met hers. “I’m going to tell you something that I very seldom tell a client,” he said. “Shut up. Don’t talk to me. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to know anything about the facts of the case.”

“But, Mr. Mason, if you don’t know, they’ll— Can’t you see, the evidence against me is overwhelming? They’ll convict me of a murder that—”

“Shut up,” Mason said. “Don’t talk to me and I don’t want to talk with you.”

Mason got to his feet and motioned to the policewoman.

Mason said as a parting shot to his client, “Don’t discuss this case with anybody. I don’t want you to answer any questions. I want you to sit absolutely tight. Say nothing, not a word.”