Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Howling Dog

Perry Mason looked at the clock, then arose, stretched, yawned, and sauntered into the chambers of Judge Markham.

The judge sat at his table reading the newspaper account, with eyes that held an expression of puzzled bewilderment.

"I don't like to bother you, Judge," said Perry Mason, "but I notice that the time allotted for the recess is up. I am very anxious to conclude my examination of this witness prior to the evening adjournment. In fact, I think that it may well be possible that we can get the case disposed of today."

Judge Markham looked up at Perry Mason, his eyes glinting shrewdly.

"I am wondering," he said, "as to the purpose…" His voice trailed into silence.

"Yes?" said Perry Mason.

"Yes," said Judge Markham dryly.

"Just what were you wondering, Judge?" said Perry Mason.

Judge Markham frowned.

"I don't know as I should discuss it," he said, "but I am wondering at the peculiar nature of the request you made that you be allowed to complete your crossexamination of the witness today."

Perry Mason shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

"Either," Judge Markham said, "you are the most remarkably lucky man practicing at the bar, or else the most shrewdly adroit; I can't tell which."

Perry Mason did not answer the question directly, but said instead, "I have always figured that a lawsuit was like an iceberg — only a fraction of it was visible to the naked eye, the balance of it is beneath the surface."

Judge Markham got to his feet.

"Well, Counselor," he said, "be that as it may, you are entitled to go on with the case."

Perry Mason walked back to the courtroom. Almost immediately Judge Markham entered from his chambers. The bailiff pounded frantically for order, and pounded for several seconds before his admonitions were heeded. The courtroom was in a seething uproar of buzzing conversation, excited comments, scurrying motion.

Order, at length, was restored. The jurors took their seats. Perry Mason slumped in his chair, apparently utterly unmoved by the startling events of the last few minutes.

"Thelma Benton was on the stand for further crossexamination," said Judge Markham.

Claude Drumm got to his feet.

"Your Honor," he said, "a most startling and unexpected development has taken place. In view of the circumstances, I know that Your Honor will not require me to mention the nature of that development, at least in the presence of the jury. But I feel that as an officer of the state, as a deputy prosecutor who is familiar with the facts of this case, my presence is urgently required elsewhere, and I request an adjournment of this case until tomorrow morning."

Judge Markham looked over his glasses at Perry Mason.

"Any objections, Counselor?" he asked.

"Yes," said Perry Mason, getting to his feet. "The rights of the defendant demand that the crossexamination of this witness be concluded at this session of the court. I mentioned this matter before I started the crossexamination, and that was the specific understanding which I had with counsel."

"That is correct," said Judge Markham. "The request for a continuance will be denied."

"But," shouted Claude Drumm, "Your Honor must understand…"

"That will do, Counselor," said Judge Markham. "The motion for a continuance has been denied. Proceed, Mr. Mason."

Perry Mason looked at Thelma Benton for a moment with a long, steady stare of accusation.

She lowered her eyes and fidgeted on the witness stand. Her face was as white as the wall in back of her.

"Now," said Perry Mason slowly, "as I understand your testimony, Paula Cartright left the residence on Milpas Drive in a taxicab on the morning of October 17th."

"That is correct," she said.

"You saw her leave?"

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

"Do I understand," said Perry Mason, raising his voice, "that you saw Paula Cartright alive on the morning of October 17th of this year?"

The witness bit her lip, hesitated.

"Let the records show," said Perry Mason urbanely, "that the witness hesitates."

Claude Drumm jumped to his feet.

"That," he said, "is manifestly unfair, and I object to the question, as argumentative; as already asked and answered; as not being proper crossexamination."

"The objection is overruled," said Judge Markham. "The record will show that the witness hesitates appreciably in answering."

Thelma Benton looked up. Her eyes were dark with panic.

"I can't say that I saw her personally," she said. "I heard steps going down the stairs from her room. I saw a taxicab drawn up in front of the place, and I saw a woman getting into the taxicab, then the cab drove away. I took it for granted that the woman was Mrs. Cartright."

"Then you didn't see her?" pressed Perry Mason.

"No," she said in a low voice, "I didn't see her."

"Now," said Perry Mason, "you have identified this letter as being in the handwriting of Mrs. Cartright."

"Yes, sir."

Perry Mason produced the photostatic copy of the telegram which had been sent from Midwick.

"And," he said, "will you identify the photostatic copy of this telegram as also being in the handwriting of Paula Cartright?"

The witness looked at the telegram, hesitated, bit her lip.

"They're the same handwriting, are they not?" asked Perry Mason — "those two documents?"

When she answered, her voice was so low as to be almost inaudible.

"Yes," she said, "I guess they're in the same handwriting."

"Don't you know?" said Perry Mason. "You unhesitatingly identified the letter as being in the handwriting of Paula Cartright. How about this telegram? Is that, or is that not, in the handwriting of Paula Cartright?"

"Yes," said the witness in an almost inaudible voice, "it is Mrs. Cartright's handwriting."

"So," said Perry Mason, "Mrs. Cartright sent this telegram from Midwick on the morning of October 17th?"

"I guess so," said the witness in a low voice.

Judge Markham pounded with his gavel.

"Mrs. Benton," he said, "you've got to speak up so the jury can understand you. Speak more loudly, please."

She raised her head, stared at the judge, and swayed slightly.

Claude Drumm was on his feet.

"Your Honor," he said, "it now appears that the witness is ill. I again ask for a continuance, out of justice to this witness, who has doubtless sustained a very great shock."

Judge Markham slowly shook his head.

"I think the crossexamination should continue," he said.

"If," said Claude Drumm in pleading desperation, "this case can be continued until tomorrow, there is some chance it might be dismissed."

Perry Mason whirled about and stood with his feet planted firmly on the floor, spread slightly apart; his head thrust forward, his manner belligerent; his voice raised until it seemed to echo in the rafters of the courtroom.

"If the Court please," he thundered, "that is exactly the situation I wish to avoid. A public accusation has been made against the defendant in this case, and the defendant is entitled to an acquittal at the hands of a jury. A dismissal by the prosecution would still leave her with a blot upon her name."

Judge Markham's voice sounded low and eventoned, compared with the vehement eloquence of Perry Mason.

"The motion is once more denied," he said. "The case will continue."

"Now," said Perry Mason, "will you kindly explain how Paula Cartright could write a letter and a telegram on the morning of October 17th of this year, when you know, of your own knowledge, that Paula Cartright was murdered on the evening of October 16th?"

Claude Drumm was on his feet.

"That," he said, "is objected to as argumentative, calling for a conclusion of the witness, not proper crossexamination and assuming a fact not in evidence."

Judge Markham paused for a moment, stared at the white, drawn face of the witness.