Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Sleepwalker's Niece

“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.”