Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Curious Bride

Judge Markham nodded to Mrs. Crandall. "Just step down for a moment, Mrs. Crandall," he said, and then nodded to John Lucas. "Very well, Counselor," he said in a voice sufficiently uncordial to apprise Lucas that further attempts to grandstand in front of the jury would meet with judicial rebuff, "proceed to introduce the doorbell in evidence."

"Call Sidney Otis," said Lucas.

The big electrician lumbered forward, glanced at Perry Mason, then glanced hurriedly away. He held his eyes downcast while he raised his hand, listened to the oath being administered. Then he sat on the edge of the witness chair and looked expectantly at John Lucas.

"Your name?" asked John Lucas.

"Sidney Otis."

"Where do you reside?"

"Apartment B, Colemont Apartments, 316 Norwalk Avenue."

"What's your occupation?"

"An electrician."

"How old are you?"

"Fortyeight."

"When did you move into the apartment which you now occupy?"

"About the twentieth of June, I think it was."

"You're familiar with the doorbell in the apartment which you occupy, Mr. Otis?"

"Oh, yes."

"As an electrician you have perhaps noticed it more or less particularly?"

"Yes."

"Has the bell been changed or tampered with in any way since you occupied the apartment?"

Sidney Otis squirmed uncomfortably on the witness stand.

"Not since I moved into the apartment," he said.

"You say the bell has not been changed since you moved into the apartment?" John Lucas asked, puzzled.

"That's right."

"Had it, to your own knowledge, been changed or tampered with in any way prior to the time you moved into the apartment?"

"Yes."

John Lucas suddenly snapped to startled, upright rigidity. "What was that?" he demanded.

"I said it had been changed," said Sidney Otis.

"It had what?"

"Been changed."

"How? In what way?" asked John Lucas, his face taking on a slow flush of anger.

"I'm an electrician," said Sidney Otis simply. "When I moved into that apartment I put on a doorbell that I took from my own store."

There was an expression of relief apparent on the face of the deputy district attorney. "Oh, so you wanted to put on one of your own bells, is that it?"

"Yes."

"I see," said Lucas, smiling now, "and the bell that you took out when you installed yours you have kept in your possession, have you?"

"I kept it," said Sidney Otis, "but it wasn't a bell—it was a buzzer."

There was a tense, dramatic silence in the courtroom. Eyes of judge, jurors and spectators turned to the frank, honest face of Sidney Otis, then turned to stare at John Lucas, whose face, flushed and angry red, was twisting with emotion. His hands were gripping the edge of the counsel table so that the skin showed white over his knuckles. "When did you move into this apartment?" he asked ominously.

"About the twentieth or twentyfirst of June somewhere along in there."

"And just before you moved into the apartment, you changed the doorbell?"

"That's right. I took off the buzzer and put on a bell."

Lucas took a deep breath. "Look here," he said. "You're an electrician?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you had occasion to go in the other apartments in that building?"

"No, sir."

"Then you don't know, as a matter of fact, that there are bells in the other three apartments, and that the very remarkable and single exception was discovered by you when you moved into your apartment and found a buzzer in it?"

"I don't know as I get just what you mean," Sidney Otis said, "but if you mean that my apartment was the only one that had a buzzer in it, you're wrong, because the other upstairs apartment had a buzzer."

"How do you know, if you've never been in the apartment? Did some one tell you?"

"No, sir, but you see, when I was putting on the bell in my apartment I started checking up on the wiring, and while I was doing that I pressed the buttons on the other apartments. I don't know what's on the two downstairs apartments, but on the other upstairs apartment my wife could hear the buzzer sounding when I pressed the button."

John Lucas snapped his mouth shut with grim determination. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he said. He whirled to a deputy sheriff. "Get out there and find if there are buzzers on those other apartments," he said, in a voice that was distinctly audible to the jury.

Judge Markham banged his gavel. "Counselor," he said, "as long as you are in court before this jury, you will confine your remarks to questions of the witness and comments to the Court."

Lucas was quivering with rage. He bowed his head in silent assent to the Court's admonition, turned to Perry Mason and, for a moment, could not trust his voice, then he said, after an abortive motion of his lips, "Crossexamine."

Perry Mason waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Why," he said, "I've no questions. In fact, I find myself very much at a loss as to how to proceed because I had intended to make some tests with the doorbell. It now appears that this doorbell wasn't the one that was in the apartment when Moxley was killed."

John Lucas whirled to face the witness. "That's all," he said. "You're excused, Mr. Otis. I will call, if the Court please, as my next witness…"

"You forget," interrupted Perry Mason, "that Mrs. Crandall was on the stand for crossexamination. I had just started my crossexamination of her when she was withdrawn, in order to permit you to call Sidney Otis as your witness."

"Very well," said Judge Markham, "you may proceed with the crossexamination of Mrs. Crandall. Take the stand, Mrs. Crandall." Ellen Crandall again took the witness stand, looking very much bewildered.

"Directing your attention to the bell that you heard during the time when the sounds of struggle were coming from the apartment where the murder was committed," said Perry Mason, "are you prepared to state positively that that was not a telephone bell that you heard?"

"I don't think it was," said Mrs. Crandall.

"What are your reasons for saying that?"

"Because it didn't ring like a telephone bell. A telephone bell rings a short ring, then there's a minute of silence and then another ring. It's a mechanical ringing, and it's a higherpitched bell. This was more of a whirring sound."

"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I don't want to trick you, Mrs. Crandall, and if it should appear that there wasn't any doorbell in that apartment, but that there was a buzzer, then it must, of course, be true that it couldn't have been the doorbell which you heard."

John Lucas got to his feet. "Objected to," he said, "as argumentative."

"The question may be argumentative," said Judge Markham, "but I am going to permit it. This is manifestly a fair method of crossexamination, even if the phraseology of the question may make it objectionable. The objection is overruled."

"I thought it was a doorbell," said Mrs. Crandall.

"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I am going to direct your attention to the photograph, People's Exhibit B, and show you that there is an alarm clock in that photograph. Isn't it possible, Mrs. Crandall, that the bell which you heard on the night of the murder, at the same time you heard the sounds of a struggle and conflict, was the bell on the alarm clock?"

Mrs. Crandall's face lit up. "Why, yes," she said, "it might have been. Come to think of it, perhaps it was. It must have been."

Perry Mason addressed the Court. "Now, your Honor," he said, "I desire to crossexamine this witness by letting her hear the identical bell on this alarm clock. She has had her recollection tested by hearing the ringing of a doorbell in the apartment occupied by the victim of the homicide on the night of the killing. It now appears that that doorbell was not in the apartment at the time. It further appears, from the prosecution's own testimony, that the alarm clock was. I therefore insist that the prosecution shall produce this alarm clock here and now."