Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Crimson Kiss

“And did you determine the cause of death?”

“Not at that time. I did later.”

“What was the cause of death?”

“Poisoning caused by the ingestion of cyanide of potassium.”

“Did you notice anything about the physical appearance of the man’s body?”

“You mean with reference to lipstick?”

“Yes.”

“There was a red smear on the upper part of the forehead, apparently caused by lips that had been heavily coated with lipstick and then pressed against the skin in a somewhat puckered condition.”

“You mean the skin was puckered?”

“No,” Dr. Linn said, smiling. “I mean the lips were puckered. It was as though some woman had administered a last kiss. The lipstick was deposited at the upper part of the forehead, where the skin across the scalp was stretched tight and smooth. It would have been above the hairline of an individual who was not bald.”

“Cross-examine,” Linn announced.

“No questions,” Mason said.

“Call Benjamin Harlan,” Linn said.

Benjamin Harlan, a huge, lumbering giant of a man, took the stand with a good-natured smile, promptly proceeded to qualify himself as a fingerprint and identification expert of some twenty years’ experience.

Stewart Linn, by skillful, adroit questions, led him through an account of his activities on the date in question, the finding of the body, the dusting of various things in the apartment, the finding of no latent fingerprints on the glass which the prosecution referred to as the “murder glass,” indicating this glass had been wiped clean of prints, the finding of prints on the glass on the table which the prosecution referred to as the “decoy glass,” on the toothbrush, on the tube of toothpaste, and various other articles. These latent fingerprints had coincided with the rolled fingerprints taken from the hands of Fay Allison, the defendant in the case.

Harlan also identified a whole series of photographs taken by the police showing the position of the body when it was discovered, the furnishings in the apartment, the table, the overturned chair, the so-called murder glass which had rolled along the floor, the so-called decoy glass on the table, which bore unmistakably the fresh fingerprints of Fay Allison, the bottle of Scotch whiskey, the bottle of soda water, the thermos jar containing ice cubes.

“Cross-examine,” Linn said triumphantly.

Mason said, “You have had some twenty years’ experience as a fingerprint expert, Mr. Harlan?”

“That’s right.”

“And an identification expert?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, you have heard Dr. Keene’s testimony about the lipstick on the forehead of the dead man?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that lipstick, I believe, shows in this photograph which I now hand you?”

“Yes, sir. Not only that, but I have a close-up of that lipstick stain which I myself took with one of the cameras I use for close-up photography. I have an enlargement of that negative, in case you’re interested.”

“I’m very much interested,” Mason said. “Will you produce the enlargement, please?”

Harlan produced the photograph from his briefcase, showing a section of the forehead of the dead man, with the stain of lips outlined clearly and in microscopic detail.

“What is the scale of this photograph?” Mason asked.

“Life size,” Harlan said. “I have a standard of distances by which I can take photographs to a scale of exactly life size.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “I’d like to have this photograph received in evidence.”

“No objection,” Linn said.

“And it is, is it not, a matter of fact that the little lines shown in this photograph are fully as distinctive as the ridges and whorls of a fingerprint?”

“Just what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it a fact well known to identification experts that the little wrinkles which form in a person’s lips are fully as individual as the lines of a fingerprint?”

“It’s not a ‘well-known’ fact.”

“But it is a fact?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“So that by measuring the distance between the little lines which are shown on this photograph, indicating the pucker lines of the skin, it would be fully as possible to identify the lips which made this lipstick print as it would be to identify a person who had left a fingerprint upon the scalp of the dead man.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, you have testified to having made rolled imprints of the defendant s fingers and compared those with the fingerprints found on the glass.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you made any attempt to take an imprint of her lips and compare that print with the print of the lipstick on the forehead of the decedent?”

“No, sir,” Harlan said, shifting his position uneasily.

“Why not?”

“Well, in the first place, Mr. Mason, the fact that the pucker lines of lips are so highly individualized is not a generally known fact.”

“But you know it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the more skilled experts in your profession know it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why didn’t you do it then?”

Harlan shifted his position again, crossed his legs, glanced somewhat helplessly at Stewart Linn, the deputy prosecutor.

“Oh, if the Court please,” Linn said, promptly taking his cue from that glance, “this hardly seems to be cross-examination. The inquiry is wandering far afield. I will object to the question on the ground that it’s incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, and not proper cross-examination.”

“Overruled,” Judge Jordan snapped. “Answer the question!”

Harlan cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “I guess I just never thought of it.”

“Think of it now,” Mason said with a gesture that was a flourish. “Go ahead and take the imprint right now and right here. Put on plenty of lipstick, Miss Allison. Let’s see how your lips compare with those on the dead man’s forehead.”

“Oh, if the Court please,” Linn said wearily, “this hardly seems to be cross-examination. If Mr. Mason wants to make Harlan his own witness and call for this test as a part of the defendant’s case, that will be one thing, but this certainly isn’t cross-examination.”

“It may be cross-examination of Harlan’s qualifications as an expert,” Judge Jordan ruled.

With faint sarcasm Linn said, “Isn’t that stretching a technicality rather far?”

“Your objection was highly technical,” Judge Jordan snapped. “It is overruled, and my ruling will stand. Take the impression, Mr. Harlan.”

Fay Allison, with trembling hand, daubed lipstick heavily on her mouth. Then, using the makeup mirror in her purse, smoothed off the lipstick with the tip of her little finger.

“Go ahead,” Mason said to Harlan, “check on her lips.”

Harlan, taking a piece of white paper from his briefcase, moved down to where the defendant was sitting beside Perry Mason and pressed the white paper against her lips. He removed the paper and examined the imprint.

“Go ahead,” Mason said to Harlan, “make your comparison and announce the result to the Court.”

Harlan said, “Of course, I have not the facilities here for making a microscopic comparison, but I can tell from even a superficial examination of the lip lines that these lips did not make that print.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all.”

Judge Jordan was interested. “These lines appear in the lips only when the lips are puckered, as in giving a kiss?”

“No, Your Honor, they are in the lips all the time, as an examination will show, but when the lips are puckered, the lines are intensified.”

“And these lip markings are different with each individual?”