Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Sulky Girl

Drumm looked at him suspiciously.

"Not unless I am along," he said. "This is a test, and if you are going to have any confidential words with anyone, I'm going to hear what they are."

"I have no objection to your listening," said Perry Mason, "but naturally, inasmuch as this is a test, I don't want Don Graves to hear it."

"Very well," said Drumm. "You can wait here, Graves, until we call you."

"We'll blow the horn on the automobile," said Perry Mason, "when we are ready."

In frigidly dignified silence, the two opposing attorneys walked down the broad stairs, through the front door, and to the automobile where Judge Purley sat in ponderous dignity, surrounded by flashlight photographers, his face wearing an expression of satisfaction which he endeavored to conceal beneath the cloak of a judicial and ponderous dignity.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" he asked.

"It is understood," said Perry Mason, "that I am to sit in the front seat with Judge Purley; that you, Mr. Drumm, are to sit in the rear seat with Don Graves?"

"That is so understood," said Drumm.

"Under those circumstances," said Perry Mason, "I am going to ask that you remove your glasses."

"That I what?" snapped the Deputy District Attorney.

"That you remove your glasses," Perry Mason said. "You will readily understand that if you are wearing your glasses so that your vision is fully corrected, and you should turn at the same time that Don Graves turns, it might be that by some involuntary exclamation or motion, you would signal Don Graves which one of the three men you thought was holding the club. In which case I should be having a test made with two pairs of eyes instead of one."

"That sir," said Claude Drumm, "is an insult to my veracity."

"No," said Perry Mason, "it is no such thing. It is merely a matter of precaution against an involuntary betrayal."

"I refuse to consent to it," said Drumm.

"Very well," said Perry Mason, "I shall not insist. I have merely mentioned the matter. One other thing is that I am going to ask Judge Purley to keep his eyes straight ahead on the road."

"No," said Drumm, "I am not going to consent to that condition, because when Judge Purley was driving the car on the night the murder was committed, and Don Graves gave his exclamation, it was only natural that Judge Purley should have looked back to see what it was that had caused the exclamation, and in doing this, he naturally slowed down the car, which gave Graves opportunity for a much longer and steadier look."

Perry Mason sighed wearily, after the manner of one who has been outgeneraled.

"Very well," he said, "summon Graves."

Judge Purley pressed the button of the horn on the automobile.

They waited a few minutes, and Perry Mason reached over and again pressed the button of the horn.

There was still no Graves, and Judge Purley pushed his left palm imperatively against the button on the steering post of the car, looking expectantly up at the window.

There was a commotion for a moment, and then Don Graves stood in the window and shouted: "One of these newspaper reporters wants to change the conditions of the test."

Claude Drumm gave an exclamation, slammed open the door of the car, strode across the street, and stood under the window. "The conditions of that test were fully arranged when we left the room," he said. "Don't discuss the matter with any of the newspaper reporters. If they can't cooperate in this thing they'll be excluded. Come down here at once!"

"Very well, sir," Don Graves said, and left the window.

Almost at once Harry Nevers thrust out his head and called: "This test isn't fair. We should have the right to have one of the men stand where Graves claims the woman was standing, if we want to. That would determine whether Graves could actually see that the other occupant of the room was a woman. It might have been a man."

"In a pink negligee, eh?" sneered Drumm. "Now listen, the only function that you gentlemen have is to pick which one of the three men, and which one of the two women will stand in that position. That was definitely understood, and that is the condition of the test. If an attempt is to be made to change it, I will call off the test."

"Oh, very well," said Nevers, "have it your own way. But it doesn't seem fair to me."

Don Graves came down the stairs, left the front door, and said in a low voice to Claude Drumm: "The man is drunk. He made a nuisance of himself up there, but I didn't want to offend him because I didn't want his newspaper to roast me."

"All right," snapped Drumm, "leave him to me. Are we ready?"

"All ready," said Perry Mason.

They took their positions in the automobile for the last time. Flashlights boomed up in puffs of dazzling flame as newspaper photographers took action pictures of the car pulling away from the curb.

Judge Purley snapped it through the gears and drove up the winding roadway at a fair rate of speed.

"It is understood," said Perry Mason, "that Don Graves will not look back until Judge Purley indicates the place on the road where Graves first gave his exclamation."

"So understood," snapped Drumm.

The car purred up the roadway, swinging around the curves.

"Now!" said Judge Purley.

Don Graves pushed his face up against the rear window of the automobile and cupped his hands around his eyes.

Perry Mason flashed a glance at the study window of the house.

The figures could be seen for a single brief glimpse, standing in position.

The car swept around the curve in the roadway, and the house vanished from view.

"I got it, sir," said Don Graves.

"Who was it?" asked Judge Purley, braking the car to a stop.

"The man in the blue serge suit with the dark hair, and the woman in the pink dress," said Don Graves.

Claude Drumm heaved a sigh.

"There, counselor," he said to Perry Mason, "goes your defense in this case—blown to smithereens!"

Perry Mason said nothing.

Judge Purley sighed ponderously.

"I will now turn around and go back," he said. "I presume the newspaper people will want to make some more photographs."

"Very well," Drumm told him.

Perry Mason said nothing. His rugged face was expressionless. The patient, thoughtful eyes stared meditatively at the face of Judge Purley.

The courtroom was jammed with spectators as Judge Markham marched in from the chambers in the rear of the bench.

"Stand up," shouted the bailiff.

The spectators arose and remained standing while Judge Markham strode to the judicial chair and the bailiff intoned the formula which convened the session of court.

Judge Markham sat down, and banged the gavel, and spectators, attorneys, jurors and defendants dropped into their seats.

The atmosphere of the courtroom was electric, but sympathies were all with the prosecution.

In man there is implanted a sporting instinct to side with the underdog, but this is in man, the individual. Mob psychology is different from individual psychology, and the psychology of the pack is to tear down the weaker and devour the wounded. Man may sympathize with the underdog, but he wants to side with the winner.

And the results of the test had been spread to the public through the pages of every newspaper in the city. It had been dramatic and spectacular. There had been about it something of the element of a gambling proposition. The defense had staked much on the happening of a certain event, on the turn of a single card, and it is human nature to crowd breathlessly forward as spectators when men are risking high stakes on a single card.

Therefore the reading public eagerly devoured the newspaper accounts of that which had happened. The outcome of the case was now a foregone conclusion. Don Graves had vindicated his ability to identify the occupants of the room from the exact point where he had seen the murder omitted, and under exactly similar circumstances.