The Case of the Sleepwalker's Niece

Chapter 19

The clerk swore the jury. Judge Markham, shrewdeyed student of human nature, settled back behind the massive mahogany bench. Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, broadshouldered, thicknecked, with the powerful muscles of virile maturity, sat in watchful attention, studying Perry Mason as a catcher observes a runner who is taking a long lead off first base. Beside him sat Sam Blaine, young, tall, slender, and trying to look impressive, fingering the black ribbon which dangled from his glasses. At the opposite counsel table, Perry Mason sat alone. A few feet behind him, Peter Kent, with white, drawn features, kept twisting his fingers. Slightly back of him, Lucille Mays watched proceedings with apprehensive eyes. At times she tried to smile reassuringly at Peter Kent. The effort was a pathetic failure. Judge Markham said, “Permit me to congratulate Counsel for both sides upon the expediency with which jurors have been selected. Do you wish to make an opening speech, Mr. District Attorney?”

District Attorney Burger moved up in front of the bar which separated the twelve curious jurors from the portion of the courtroom reserved for Counsel. Back of the bar, the crowded courtroom was tense with hushed expectancy. Burger said, “Gentlemen, I am not going to indulge in oratory. I shall at this time tell you briefly what the Prosecution expects to prove. On the thirteenth of this month the defendant, Peter Kent, was living in his residence in Hollywood. There were in that residence, besides the servants, Edna Hammer, a niece; P. L. Rease, a halfbrother; John J. Duncan, an attorney from Chicago; Frank B. Maddox, a business associate of the defendant; Helen Warrington, the defendant’s secretary. We expect to show that on the morning of the fourteenth the defendant entered the bedroom of P. L. Rease and stabbed him to death. We expect to show that P. L. Rease, without the knowledge of the defendant, had exchanged bedrooms with Frank B. Maddox, that between Maddox and the defendant was bad blood; that the defendant labored under the impression, either founded or unfounded, that Maddox was swindling him and trying to hold him up in a business deal.

“As nearly as can be ascertained, the decedent met his death from a stabbing wound inflicted by a carving knife at approximately three o’clock in the morning. Death was instantaneous. We expect to show that at the hour of three o’clock in the morning Peter Kent, the defendant, having this same carving knife in his hand, was moving stealthily, in bare feet, across the patio which separated the wing containing his bedroom from that containing the bedroom of Frank B. Maddox, which was then occupied by the decedent, P. L. Rease. We expect to show that the fatal weapon was subsequently found under the pillow of the bed occupied that night by the defendant; that the blade of the knife shows unmistakably that it was the weapon used to kill P. L. Rease. We expect to show that subsequent to his arrest, the defendant voluntarily admitted that he was an habitual sleepwalker; that he had every reason to believe that while walking in his sleep he had homicidal tendencies.

“The Court will instruct you gentlemen that once the killing by the defendant has been established, the burden of proving circumstances that mitigate, justify or excuse it shifts to the defendant. So far as the Prosecution is concerned, it will show the death of Rease; that the death was due to a stabbing wound inflicted with a carving knife; that the carving knife was in the possession of the defendant at approximately the time of the murder; that the defendant was actually seen leaving the wing of the house containing the bedroom of the decedent at approximately the time of the murder. We expect to show that the defendant thought Maddox occupied the bed in which Rease was sleeping, that the defendant had every motive for murdering Maddox. As you gentlemen have been made aware by questions asked you by the Defense when you were selected as jurors, the Defense will reply, at least in part, upon a theory of sleepwalking. We expect to show that upon a prior occasion, approximately one year before the commission of the crime, the defendant secured a carving knife and…”

Perry Mason slowly raised himself from his seat and said, “Your Honor, I object to the district attorney incorporating in his statement anything which took place a year before the commission of the crime; object to his seeking to anticipate our defense, and move that the jurors be instructed to disregard his statements.”

“The evidence is perfectly proper,” Burger retorted, “in that it shows that at a prior time the defendant had knowledge of his homicidal tendencies while walking in his sleep; that he made no effort to curb those tendencies when he realized he was once more walking in his sleep. I am predicating this part of my argument on the theory which the Defense itself has outlined.”

Judge Markham rapped with his gavel and said, “It is not incumbent upon the Prosecution to anticipate the Defense. Whether evidence in rebuttal can include incidents taking place prior to the crime and separated from it by a period of twelve months is something which will be determined when the question arises. In the meantime, the objection of the Defense is well taken, the Court will order that that portion of the opening speech be withdrawn from the jury, and the jurors are specifically instructed to disregard it. The jurors are also instructed that the opening statement made by the district attorney merely outlines what he expects to prove and is made for the purpose of clarifying the issues in the minds of the jurors. The statements made by the district attorney are not to be considered as evidence. Go on, Mr. District Attorney.”

“We expect to show,” Hamilton Burger resumed, “by the defendant’s own niece, that prior to the commission of the crime, in fact two days before, she had found the same weapon with which the murder was subsequently committed under the pillow of the defendant’s bed. Upon this evidence, Gentlemen, and upon such other evidence as may be introduced in rebuttal, the Prosecution will ask at your hands a conviction of first degree murder.”

Hamilton Burger sat down. Judge Markham asked Perry Mason, “Do you desire to make an opening statement, Counselor?”

“I will withhold my statement until just before I start to put on my case,” Mason said.

“Very well, the Prosecution will call its first witness.”

“I shall prove the Corpus Delicti by calling Frank B. Maddox,” Burger said.

Maddox came forward and was sworn. “Your name is Frank B. Maddox and you reside in Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“You were present in the house of the defendant during the night of the thirteenth of this month and the morning of the fourteenth?”

“I was.”

“Do you know if P. L. Rease was related to the defendant?”

“He was the defendant’s halfbrother.”

“How long had you been in the defendant’s house prior to the thirteenth?”

“I arrived on the tenth.”

“On the morning of the fourteenth did you have occasion to see Mr. P. L. Rease?”

“I did.”

“Where was he?”

“In his bedroom.”

“Was he alive or dead?”

“He was dead, lying in bed flat on his back, with a light blanket drawn up under his chin. There was a cut in the blanket, where a knife had been thrust through the covering and into Mr. Rease’s body. The blanket was soaked in blood, and Mr. Rease was dead.”

“I shall recall this witness later on,” Hamilton Burger said, “for further questions, but at the present time I am merely showing the Corpus Delicti and I shall ask permission to withdraw him temporarily.”

“Very well,” Judge Markham said.

“Do you wish to crossexamine?” Burger inquired.

“Yes,” Mason said. “You say you were in the house during the evening of the thirteenth, Mr. Maddox?”

“Yes.”

“And during the morning of the fourteenth?”

“Yes.”

“When did you first leave the house on the morning of the fourteenth?”

“Is that material?” Burger asked, frowning.

“I think so.”

“I don’t. I object to it on the ground that it is immaterial, that it is not proper crossexamination.”

Judge Markham hesitated a moment. “I will,” Perry Mason said, “amend the question, to make it as follows: When did you first leave the house on the morning of the fourteenth prior to the time the body was discovered?”

“That question is plainly within the scope of crossexamination,” Judge Markham ruled. “Answer it.”

“I didn’t leave the house at all,” Maddox said.

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t you leave the house about three o’clock in the morning?” he asked.

“No.”

“You went to your room the evening of the thirteenth at what time?”

“Approximately ninethirty I should judge.”

“Did you go to bed immediately after going to your room?”

“No, my attorney, Mr. Duncan, went to my room with me. We were engaged in a long conference.”

“What time did you arise on the morning of the fourteenth?” Mason asked.

“I was aroused by you and Dr. Kelton invading my room, trying to find out who had been killed…”

“Move to strike out that portion of the answer as a conclusion of the witness,” Mason said.

“It will go out,” Judge Markham ruled. “The jury will disregard it.”

“What time was it?”

“Around eight o’clock, I think.”

“And you wish the jury to understand, Mr. Maddox, that you were continuously in the house from the time you retired on the evening of the thirteenth to eight o’clock in the morning of the fourteenth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Didn’t you go to the Pacific Greyhound Stage Depot at approximately three o’clock in the morning on the fourteenth and place a long distance call for Mrs. Doris Sully Kent in Santa Barbara?”

Maddox clamped his lips tightly together and shook his head. “You’ll have to answer the question audibly,” the court reporter announced.

“I most certainly did not,” Maddox said, speaking distinctly.

“You didn’t?” Mason asked, surprise in his voice.

“No, sir.”

“Were you up at approximately three o’clock in the morning?”

“I wasn’t even awake.”

“Didn’t you,” Mason asked, “engage in a conference with Mr. Duncan, your attorney, some time around three o’clock in the morning of the fourteenth?”

“No, sir, absolutely not.”

“At any time between midnight of the thirteenth and five o’clock in the morning of the fourteenth?”

“Absolutely not.”

Mason said, “That’s all.”

Hamilton Burger called a draftsman who produced plans of the Kent residence. The plans were offered in evidence and received without objection. The coroner fixed the time of death as some time between twothirty and threethirty on the morning of the fourteenth. Detective Sergeant Holcomb took the witness stand and identified the carving knife, with its blade stained a sinister, rusty red, as the weapon which had been found under the pillow of Kent’s bed. Perry Mason, who had not crossexamined the other witnesses, asked Sergeant Holcomb, “What happened to the pillowcase and the sheets on that bed?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, I was told that they had been put in the laundry by the housekeeper.”

“She didn’t save them?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you produce them as evidence?”

“Because I didn’t think I needed to.”

“Isn’t it a fact that there were no blood stains whatever on the pillow or on the sheet?”

“I don’t think so. I think there were blood stains, but I can’t remember.”

Mason said sneeringly, “If there had been blood stains you’d have thought the articles of sufficient importance to impound them as evidence, wouldn’t you?”

“Objected to as argumentative,” Burger stormed.

“Merely for the purpose of refreshing the witness’s recollection,” Mason said. “He has testified that he doesn’t know whether there were any blood stains.”

“Let him answer the question,” Judge Markham ruled.

“I don’t know,” Sergeant Holcomb admitted, and then added, “You should know, Mr. Mason. You were the one who discovered the carving knife.”

Spectators in the courtroom tittered. Perry Mason said, “Yes, I know. Are you asking me to tell you, Sergeant?”

Judge Markham pounded his gavel. “That will do,” he ordered. “The witness will be interrogated by proper questions. There will be no more exchanges between the witness and counsel.”

“And,” Mason charged, raising his voice, “since the sheet and pillowcase were free of blood stains and might, therefore, be evidence which would militate against the theory of the Prosecution, you saw to it that these articles found their way into the laundry while you were in exclusive charge of the premises, and before the Defense had a chance to preserve them, didn’t you?”

With a roar, Burger was on his feet, objecting, “… argumentative, improper, no proper foundation laid, insulting, not proper crossexamination, incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.” Perry Mason merely smiled.

“The witness may answer,” Judge Markham ruled. “As asked, the question goes to the bias or interest of the witness.”

“No,” Sergeant Holcomb said, “I didn’t have anything to do with the sheets.”

“But you did suggest to the housekeeper she had better clean up the room?”

“Perhaps I did.”

“And make the bed?”

“Perhaps.”

“That,” Mason announced with a triumphant glance at the jury, “is all.”

“Call John J. Duncan,” Blaine announced as Hamilton Burger settled back in his chair, to let his deputy take the lead for a while. Duncan strutted pompously forward and was sworn. “Your name is John J. Duncan. You are an attorney from Illinois, and you know the defendant, Peter Kent?”

“Yes.”

“You were, I believe, in his house on the thirteenth and the morning of the fourteenth of this month?”

“That’s right. I engaged in a business conference with Mr. Kent and with Mr. Perry Mason, his attorney. There were also present at the conference Helen Warrington, Mr. Kent’s secretary, and my client, Frank B. Maddox. I believe there was also present a Dr. Kelton.”

“What time did you retire?”

“Around eleven o’clock. I had a talk with my client in his bedroom after the meeting with these other gentlemen split up.”

“Did you see Mr. Kent later on during the evening?”

“I saw him early on the morning of the fourteenth.”

“At what time?”

“At precisely three o’clock in the morning.”

“Where did you see him?”

“In the patio of the house.”

“Can you point out on the map, People’s Exhibit Number One, the exact spot where you first saw the defendant at that time?” Duncan indicated a point on the diagram.

“And where on the diagram is your bedroom located?” Duncan indicated. “And from your bedroom you could plainly see the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you first see him?”

“I was awakened by a shadow falling across my face. I woke up and saw someone moving across the porch. I jumped up, looked at the clock to see what time it was, and went to the window. I saw Peter Kent, the defendant, attired only in a nightgown, walking across the patio. He had a knife in his hand. He walked to a coffee table, paused for a few moments and then crossed the patio and vanished through the door on the other side.”

“By the door on the other side, you mean the spot which I am now indicating on the map, People’s Exhibit Number One, and marked for identification ‘Door on North Side of Patio’?”

“I do.”

“And approximately where was this coffee table located?” Duncan made a mark with a crayon on the map.

“Yes.”

“You say you looked at the clock?”

“I did.”

“And what time was it?”

“Three o’clock.”

“Did you turn on a light to see the clock?”

“I did not. The clock had a luminous dial and I was able to see the position of the hands.”

“Did you look at the clock before or after you observed the figure in the patio?”

“Both. I looked at it as soon as I sat up in bed, and I looked at it when I returned to bed after seeing the defendant cross the patio and vanish through that door.”

“What did you do, if anything?”

“I was very much concerned, put on a bathrobe, opened the door from my bedroom into the corridor, looked up and down the corridor, saw no one and then decided that, since I was in a hostile house, I’d mind my own business. I went back to bed and eventually went to sleep.”

“I think, if the court please,” Mason said, “we are entitled to have stricken from the answer of the witness the fact that he was in a hostile house. That is a conclusion of the witness and the answer, insofar as it relates to his motives, is not responsive to the question, and is, in addition, objectionable.”

“It may be stricken out,” Judge Markham ruled.

Blaine turned to Perry Mason and said, “You may crossexamine, Mr. Mason. Perhaps you’ll want to ask him why he went back to his sleep.”

Judge Markham frowned at Blaine and said, “That will do, Mr. Blaine.”

“Yes,” Mason said easily, “I will ask him just that. Mr. Duncan, how did it happen that you were able to go back to bed and go to sleep after seeing so startling a sight?”

Duncan leaned forward impressively. “Because I was tired,” he said. “I’d been listening to you talk all the evening.”

The courtroom burst into a roar of laughter. The bailiff pounded with his gavel. Judge Markham waited until order had been restored, then said to the witness, “Mr. Duncan, you’re an attorney. You need no instructions as to the duties of a witness. You will please refrain from attempting to provoke laughter or from adding to your answers comments which are uncalled for. You will also refrain from indulging in personalities with counsel.”

Duncan hesitated a moment, then said, in a surly manner, “Yes, Your Honor.”

Judge Markham stared steadily at the witness, seemed about to add something to his admonition, but slowly settled back in his chair, nodded to Mason and said, “Proceed, Counselor.”

“If the Court please,” Mason said, “I am perfectly willing to take the answer of the witness at its face value. I am not asking to have any part of it stricken out. I would like to crossexamine him upon that statement.

“Very well,” Judge Markham said, “you may crossexamine him on that statement just as much as you want to, Counselor.”

Mason rose to his feet, stared steadily at Duncan. “So you were so tired from hearing me talk all evening that you were able to go back to sleep, is that right?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You talked with your client for an hour or so after you both sought your rooms?”

“Yes.”

“My talk hadn’t made you so sleepy that you couldn’t stay awake to discuss certain matters of strategy with your client?”

“I talked with him.”

“And went to bed about eleven o’clock?”

“Yes.”

“Yet, after four hours of sleep, the soothing effect of my conversation was still so great that the startling apparition of a man clad only in a nightdress, carrying a carving knife and prowling around in the moonlight didn’t interfere with your slumbers, is that right?”

“I was awakened. I looked up and down the corridor,” Duncan said.

Mason continued to bore in. “And went back to sleep, Mr. Duncan?”

“I went back to sleep.”

“Within a very few minutes?”

“Within a very few minutes.”

“And you have testified on oath that you were able to do this because of the wearying effect of my conversation?”

“You know what I meant.”

“The only means I have of knowing what you meant, Mr. Duncan, is what you said, and that, of course, is the only way that the jury has of knowing what you meant. Now, let’s be frank with the jury. I didn’t talk at our conference more than a very few minutes, did I?”

“I didn’t time you.”

“For the most part, my conversation consisted in saying ‘No’ to your demands, didn’t it?”

“I don’t think we need to go into that.”

“But when you said my talk had made you so tired that you had no difficulty in going back to sleep, you were exaggerating the facts of the case, weren’t you?”

“I went back to sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Duncan, and the real reason you went back to sleep is because you didn’t see anything particularly alarming about the figure when you first noticed it, isn’t that right?”

“A man walking around at night with a carving knife is alarming to me,” Duncan snapped. “I don’t know whether it would alarm you or not.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “And if you had seen a carving knife in the hand of the person you saw walking about the patio at three o’clock in the morning of the fourteenth, you would have been sufficiently startled to have notified the police or aroused the household, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t understand your question. I saw the figure, I saw the knife and I went back to sleep.”

“I’ll get at it another way,” Mason said. “Isn’t it a fact that you didn’t see the carving knife clearly?”

“No, I saw it.”

“This same carving knife?” Mason asked, gesturing toward the bloodstained knife which had been introduced in evidence.

“That same one,” Duncan snapped. Mason said nothing but stood smiling at him. Duncan fidgeted uncomfortably and said, “At any rate, a knife which looked very much like that.”

Mason stepped back to the counsel table, opened his brief case and pulled out a brown paper parcel, took off the paper and produced a hornhandled carving knife. “I will hand you this carving knife,” he said to the witness, “and ask you if this isn’t the carving knife which was in the hand of the figure which you saw walking across the patio.”

Duncan said savagely, “No, it isn’t.”

“How do you know it isn’t?” Mason asked.

“Well,” Duncan said, “I don’t think it’s the same one.”

“You want the Court and the jury to understand that you could see that carving knife plainly enough to identify it?”

“Not to identify it, but I could get a general description of it.”

“And you’re certain this wasn’t the carving knife?”

“I don’t think it was.”

“Are you certain it wasn’t?”

“Well, of course, I couldn’t be certain at that distance.”

“Then you can’t be certain that this knife, which has been introduced by the People as Exhibit Number Two, was the same knife, can you?”

“Well, no,” Duncan said, “I can’t.”

“I think,” Mason remarked, “I’m going to ask the court to have this second knife marked for identification as defendant’s Exhibit A.”

“I object,” Burger shouted. “That knife, Your Honor, doesn’t enter into the case in any way. That is simply a trick by which the counsel for the Defense has sought to becloud the issue. I can prove that counsel for the Defense got that knife long after the murder through a hardware…”

Mason whirled savagely toward him, but before he could interrupt, Judge Markham had snapped forth a ruling. “That will do, Mr. District Attorney. Never mind what you can prove as to the source of the knife. This witness has testified that the figure he saw in the patio was carrying a knife which he thinks was People’s Exhibit Number Two; that it was, at any rate, similar in appearance. It is legitimate crossexamination to produce another knife and ask him the questions which Counselor Mason has asked. No objection was made to those questions when they were put to the witness. Counselor is now asking only that the knife be marked for identification, in order that the identical knife concerning which the witness was interrogated can be identified. It is entirely proper. The Court will mark the knife for identification as defendant’s Exhibit A.”

Mason turned, suddenly whirled to face Duncan and said, “Mr. Duncan, isn’t the real reason that you were able to go back to sleep due to the fact you didn’t realize at the time the figure you saw was carrying a knife?”

“I saw that he was carrying something in his hand, something that glittered.”

“But isn’t it a fact that you didn’t realize that it was a knife and it wasn’t until after the murder had been discovered the next morning that it occurred to you that it must have been a knife. Didn’t you see merely a white figure walking in the patio? Didn’t you think it was someone walking in his sleep; and didn’t you decide that you weren’t going to interfere, but safeguarded yourself against intrusion by locking your door, and then went back to sleep?”

“I didn’t say the man was walking in his sleep.”

“But I’m asking you if it isn’t a fact.”

“Yes.”

“And isn’t it true that the only reason you were able to go back to sleep was because you didn’t see a knife in his hand clearly enough to recognize what the object was?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Can you be more positive than that?”

“Yes. I saw the knife.”

“Now, the figure went to the coffee table in the patio?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him raise the lid of the coffee table?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw the figure then leave the coffee table, walk across the patio and leave the patio by the door which you have indicated?”

“Yes.”

“After the figure left the table, did it continue to carry the knife?”

“Why, yes… I don’t know… I can’t say.”

“Would you say that it was not carrying the knife?”

“I wouldn’t say one way or another.”

“Then it is possible that the figure left the knife in the oblong receptacle underneath the top of the coffee table?”

“I can’t say.”

“Are you certain that the figure had a knife before it reached the coffee table?”

“Objected to, as already asked and answered a dozen different times,” Burger said.

“I’ll let him answer this one question,” Judge Markham ruled, leaning forward and staring steadily at Duncan.

“Yes,” Duncan said, “he had a knife in his hand.”

“You’re certain of the identity of the figure you saw?” Mason asked.

“I am.”

“It was the defendant?”

“It was.”

“How was he dressed?”

“Only in a night shirt.”

“His feet were bare?”

“Yes.”

“How close was he to you when you first saw him distinctly?”

“He crossed in front of my window.”

“And threw a shadow on your face?”

“Yes.”

“But at that time you couldn’t see him distinctly. You were in bed and you wakened from a sound sleep, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“How far away was he when you first saw him clearly?”

“I can’t tell you exactly.”

“Can you point out on the map?”

“Yes, he was approximately here.” Mason marked the spot with a crayon, then, by referring to the scale of the map, said, “In other words, he was approximately thirtyfive feet away?”

“It may have been that, yes.”

“His back was to you?”

“Yes, I believe it was.”

“And yet you recognized him?”

“I recognized him.”

“You understand the importance of being absolutely correct in your testimony?”

“I do.”

“You understand the seriousness of this trial?”

“Certainly.”

“And yet you are willing to swear positively that this figure which you saw, wearing only a nightgown, a figure walking away from you, at a distance of thirtyfive feet, in the moonlight, was the defendant?”

“I do.”

“You looked at the clock when you got up?”

“Yes.”

“And again when you came back to bed?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What time was it when you first got up?”

“Exactly three o’clock.”

“What time was it when you came back to bed?”

“Why, just about the same time, I don’t suppose over thirty seconds had elapsed.”

“And you noticed the hands of the clock for the second time, just before you got in bed?”

“Yes.”

“As a matter of fact, wasn’t it quarter past twelve?”

“No.”

“When you first reported what you had seen, didn’t you place the time at quarter past twelve?”

“I may have.”

“At that time, your recollections were more vivid and fresh than they are now, were they not?”

“No.”

“They weren’t?”

“No.”

“Do I understand you to say that your recollection becomes more vivid with the passage of time?”

“It does in this case, yes.”

“Because when you learned the killing must have taken place at approximately three o’clock you transposed the position of the hands of the clock in your mind so that you could be a star witness in this case and…”

Judge Markham pounded with his gavel. “I think, Counselor, that about the star witness is unnecessary.”

“I wish to show the motive of the witness.”

“It isn’t so!” Duncan shouted. “I know now that it was three o’clock in the morning. There’s no chance it was quarter past twelve.”

“Your eyesight’s good?” Mason asked.

“Very good.”

“And it was on the morning of the fourteenth?”

“Certainly.”

“You wore glasses, didn’t you?”

“I have worn glasses for thirtyfive years.”

“And you were wearing glasses habitually during the period covered in your testimony?”

“Yes.”

“Did you put on your glasses when you got up to look out of the window?”

“No… Yes, I guess I did. I think I must have.”

“Why did you put them on?”

“To see with, of course.”

Once more there was a titter which ran around the courtroom, but this time, something in the tense attitude of Perry Mason caused the titter to subside even before the bailiff could rap for order. “In other words, then,” Mason said, “when you were aroused by a marauder prowling about your room in the dead of night, the very first thing you did after wakening was to put on your glasses so that you could see to better advantage, is that right?”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, Mr. Duncan, I am asking you if that is what happened.”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“In other words, you knew that your eyes would be virtually valueless without the glasses.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No,” Mason said, smiling, “you didn’t say it, but your actions said it more plainly than words. You put on your glasses because you knew you couldn’t see without them. Isn’t that right?”

“I knew they’d help me to see.”

“You knew that you couldn’t see clearly any great distance without them, didn’t you?”

“Well, my eyesight’s a lot better with them on than with them off.”

“And with your glasses your eyesight was quite good?” Mason asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“Would you say it was perfect?”

“I’d say that it was normal.”

“Perfectly normal?”

“If you want to express it that way, yes.”

“Then,” Mason said, pointing his forefinger at Duncan, “why was it that, immediately after you had reported to the district attorney what you had seen, you were sent to an oculist to have new glasses fitted?”

Burger shouted, “He wasn’t instructed to do any such thing! I resent that insinuation!”

“Why did you do it?” Mason asked Duncan.

“I didn’t say that I did it.”

Mason, pounding his fist on the counsel table, said, “I say you did it, then. Why did you do it?”

Duncan squirmed uncomfortably. “Well,” he said, “I wanted to, that’s all.”

“Why did you want to?”

“I’d been wanting to for some time and hadn’t had a chance to do it. I’d been too busy. You understand I’m a very busy attorney.”

“Oh,” Mason said, “you’d been putting it off, then, for some time.”

“Yes.”

“You’re quite busy?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been quite busy?”

“For years.”

“And did you put off getting these glasses during the time you’d been busy?”

“During much of it, yes.”

“You’d put off getting these glasses for years, then, is that right?”

“Yes… No, that isn’t what I meant.”

“Never mind what you meant. What are the facts of the case? How long had you put off getting new glasses?”

“I don’t know.”

“When were you last fitted for glasses before the fourteenth of this month?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“As much as five years ago?”

“I don’t know.”

“As much as ten years ago?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And the very first thing you did after telling the district attorney what you saw was to go out and consult an oculist and get glasses. Isn’t that right?”

“It wasn’t the first thing I did.”

“It was just about the first thing you did, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“It was that evening, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was that evening.”

“And did you find an oculist in his office on that evening?”

“Yes.”

Mason’s smile was fiendish. “You found him there, Mr. Duncan, because you had previously telephoned and made an appointment with him, isn’t that right?”

Duncan hesitated a minute and then said, “No, I didn’t telephone to him.”

Mason frowned for a moment, then triumphantly asked, “Who did telephone to him?”

Blaine jumped to his feet. “Your Honor,” he said, “that’s objected to as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It makes no difference who telephoned to the oculist.”

“It does, in view of the answers the witness has been giving to these questions,” Perry Mason said. “This is a witness who is an attorney. I have a right to impeach his testimony by showing the condition of his eyesight at the time in question. This witness has admitted that he needed glasses and has also admitted that the glasses he put on were insufficient and had been insufficient for years. I also have a right to show his bias and interest, as developed by his evasive answers.”

“I think,” Judge Markham said, “I’ll permit him to answer the question. Who telephoned the oculist, Mr. Duncan, if you know.” Duncan hesitated.

“Go on,” Mason said, “answer the question.”

In a voice which was barely audible, Duncan said, “Mr. Blaine.”

“The deputy district attorney,” Mason inquired, “who has just finished making such a vociferous objection that my question was incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

A roar of laughter swept the courtroom. Judge Markham frowned, then permitted himself a halfsmile. “That will do, Counselor,” he said sternly, then, looking at the clock, “It has approached the hour of adjournment. I think we have made very good progress for today. Court will adjourn until tomorrow. The Court is going to remand the jury to the custody of the sheriff, who will keep them in his charge and permit no person to approach them or address them, nor will he address them himself, except upon matters not connected in any way with the case. Court is adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”