The Case of the Troubled Trustee

Chapter Nineteen

"Call Mr. Holbrook," Mason said.

George Holbrook-tall, gangling, his weather-beaten face and somewhat shambling gait claiming the attention of the jurors-took the oath and assumed his position on the witness stand.

"Do you have occasion to remember the evening of September twenty-first of this year?" Mason asked.

"I sure do."

"There was something that happened on that evening which made an impression upon you?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was it?"

"My wife's sister came to visit."

"What time did she arrive?"

"Eleven-ten was when she actually got there at the airport."

"Did you go to the airport to meet her?"

"We sure did."

"Now, calling your attention to that evening, did anything happen earlier in the evening which aroused your attention, anything at all that was out of the ordinary?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was it?"

"About nine o'clock, just right around a minute or two after nine, I heard the sound of a shot."

Hamilton Burger jumped to his feet. "I move to strike out the latter part of that answer as calling for a conclusion of the witness."

"Oh, I think the expression is common enough so we'll let it go," Judge Alvarado said. "You may crossexamine him on that point."

"Could you determine the direction of that sound?" Mason asked.

"It came from the golf links."

"Now, where is your home with reference to the golf links of the Barclay Country Club?"

"We're along a street that parallels the golf club."

"Are you familiar with the location of tee number seven?"

"Yes, sir."

"In order that there may be no mistake about it," Mason said, "I show you this map which has been introduced in evidence and ask you to notice the cross street nearest your house and the location of tee number seven."

"Yes, sir, I see it."

"About how far are you located from tee number seven?"

"About a hundred and fifty yards."

"Cross-examine," Mason said.

Hamilton Burger, on his feet, managed to get an expression of puzzled perplexity on his face as he turned to the judge and said, "If the Court please, I move to strike out this entire evidence as being incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial."

Judge Alvarado turned to Mason. "Do you care to explain your reason for calling this witness, Mr. Mason?"

"I will be glad to," Mason said. "The autopsy surgeon has testified that death occurred between ninethirty in the evening and two-thirty A.M. the following morning.

"On cross-examination, the autopsy surgeon admitted that a doctor couldn't fix the time of death as accurately as if one was standing by with a stopwatch. Death could conceivably have occurred at nine o'clock in the evening.

"The defendant has testified that Palmer was dead when the defendant arrived on the scene. Death could well have occurred an hour earlier."

Hamilton Burger laughed and then apparently tried to control himself with an effort. "All of this," he said, "is predicated upon the fact that somebody heard an automobile backfire or a distant sonic boom or a tire blowing ouu and under the persuasive influence of counsel's suggestion has been led to believe that it was a shot. And now he wants this jury to believe not only that it was a shot, but that it was the fatal shot. I submit, Your Honor, that this evidence is far too nebulous and fantastic, far too conjectural to even be cluttering up the record, let alone influencing the jury."

Judge Alvarado shook his head. "I think your argument goes to the weight rather than the admissibility of the evidence, Mr. Prosecutor. The Court is going to allow the evidence to remain in. You may, of course, further amplify your point by cross-examination."

Hamilton Burger heaved a sigh, as much as to indicate to the jury the tribulations with which a district attorney had to contend, then turned to the witness. "How do you know it was nine o'clock?" he asked.

"I was out on the porch smoking and suddenly realized it was time for a favorite television program."

"What kind of a program?"

"A newscaster and analyst."

"You say it's a favorite of yours?"

"Yes."

"Do you listen every night?"

"Almost every night, yes."

"And is that the only program that you listen to?"

''Oh, no."

"You listen to others?"

"Certainly."

"What is the nature of these other programs you listen to?"

"Well, I have two or three favorite newscasters."

"Such as what?"

"Well, I have Carleton Kenny. I try to listen to him every night."

"Oh, yes," Hamilton Burger said, "he comes on at eleven o'clock?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what others?"

"Well, two or three others."

"What was the program you were listening to at nine o'clock when you heard this sound which you took to be a shot?"

"I was listening to Ralph Woodley."

"Woodley?" Hamilton Burger said.

"No, no," the witness corrected himself, "I meant George Tillman."

"Now, just a minute," Hamilton Burger said. "You said first it was Woodley you were listening to."

"Well, I thought it was. That is, I suddenly realized-"

Hamilton Burger said, "You suddenly realized that one program comes on at nine o'clock and the other program comes on at ten. You said that you were listening to Woodley. He comes on at ten, does he not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And when I asked you to give the program you were listening to, the name Woodley slipped out before you thought."

"It was an inadvertent slip of the tongue."

"But when I asked you, you said before you had any opportunity to think that you were listening to Woodley's program."

"Yes."

"Then the shot could have been at ten o'clock."

"No, sir, the shot I heard was at nine o'clock. It was just before I went in to tune in the nine o'clock program, the last thirteen minutes of it."

Hamilton Burger, his manner suddenly magnanimous, said, "Now, Mr. Holbrook, I don't want to take any unfair advantage of you. I want you to listen carefully. Suppose I should assure you, as I do now assure you, that two reputable citizens who lived even closer to the seventh tee than you do are prepared to swear that shortly after ten o'clock, just as the Woodley program was going on the air, they heard a single pistol shot, or a sound which they interpreted as being a pistol shot coming from the direction of tee number seven. Would that testimony change your recollection and would you then state that the sound you heard, which you took to be a shot, was at ten o'clock rather than nine o'clock?"

George Holbrook seemed for a moment completely baffled. Then he slowly shook his head. "I thought it was nine o'clock," he said.

"I know you did," Hamilton Burger said, his manner suddenly sympathetic, "but you could have been mistaken. There was a lot of excitement that night. You went to pick up your wife's sister?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how did it happen that you didn't report the matter to the police the next morning when you read of the murder?"

"I didn't read of the murder," Holbrook said. "We decided to take a trip and we threw some things together late that night, got three or four hours' sleep and took off at daylight the next morning."

"Oh, yes," Hamilton Burger said. "And how long were you gone, Mr. Holbrook?"

"Three weeks."

"And you didn't know anything about the murder all the time you were gone?"

"I knew about it but didn't know that it had taken place on the golf links right across from our front porch, so to speak."

"So you didn't realize the importance of this sound you had heard until some three weeks later?"

"Yes, sir-sometime later."

"And then you tried to reconstruct in your mind the exact date that you had heard this shot?"

"Yes, sir.''

"And the time you had heard the shot?"

"Yes, sir."

"After an interval of three weeks?"

"Yes, sir."

"Three full weeks?"

"Yes, sir.''

"And it could have been while you were listening to the Woodley program, just as you said when I first asked you?"

"Yes, I thought it was the- No, no, wait a minute. The Woodley program comes on at ten o'clock. This was at nine o'clock."

Hamilton Burger smiled indulgently. "If the other witnesses fix it as being when the Woodley program was on the air, would you change your testimony once more, Mr. Holbrook, and again say that it was at the time of the Woodley program?"

"Well, I… I thought it was at nine o'clock."

"You thought it was," Hamilton Burger said, his manner suddenly stern, and then leaning forward and fixing the witness with a direct gaze. "You can't swear to it, can you?"

George Holbrook thought for a long moment, then said, "No, I can't positively swear to it."

"Thank you," Hamilton Burger said. "That's all."

Hamilton Burger turned away from the witness, glanced at the jury and for a moment a swift grin came over his features. Then he masked his face as though desperately trying to keep his emotions concealed from the jury.

"Very well," he said, "that's all."

Judge Alvarado said, "I have a matter which has been on the calendar for some time set for this hour and it's a matter I have to take care of. I am going to continue this case until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. During the recess of the Court, the jurors will remember the usual admonition of the Court not to form or express any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant, and to refrain from discussing the case among yourselves, and particularly not to let anyone discuss it with you. Court is recessed until ten o'clock tomorrow."

As the spectators started filing out, Dutton leaned toward Mason. "How did I do," he asked, "-on the stand?"

Mason, putting papers in his brief case, said, "About the way I expected."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic."

Mason shook his head and said, "Go ahead and get a night's sleep and try to forget about the case. No one ever knows what a jury is going to do."

The lawyer nodded to the bailiff and to the officer who was coming forward to take Dutton into custody, managed a reassuring smile for Della Street, then walked out of the courtroom, his shoulders squared, his manner confident, his chin up, his stomach cold.