Эрл Гарднер: The Case of the Buried Clock

It was five minutes past two, and Judge Canfield glanced down at Perry Mason. “Are you ready to submit authorities in support of your position, Counselor?”

Mason smiled. “No, Your Honor. I’ve decided to abandon my position. I will withdraw my question.”

Hamilton Burger plainly showed his surprise. McNair sneered openly. “Very well,” Judge Canfield said without giving any indication of his feelings, “Proceed.”

“Just a few more questions of the witness,” Mason said. “Mr. Beaton, you have testified that you are an expert tracker.”

“Well, not exactly, but I have given considerable attention to the study of tracks.”

“Yes. And you have set up several cameras at various points of vantage in the vicinity of your cabin, and in the vicinity of the Blane cabin where this murder was committed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Referring back, Mr. Beaton, to the time when the witness Jameson discovered Dr. Macon at the Blane cabin. You were there at that time?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Prior to that time, where had you been?”

“I had been out watching my cameras, making the rounds, as I call it.”

“Alone?”

“No. Miss Strague was with me.”

“And Burton Strague, Miss Strague’s brother, subsequently joined you at the cabin?”

“That’s right.”

“And stated he’d been looking for you all over the mountain and that his search had been fruitless?”

“Yes.”

“And further stated that he’d walked through one of your camera traps, in connection with that search?”

“Yes.”

“And told you which camera it was?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what was the time that he said he walked through that trap?”

“I don’t know if he said. I know what time it was, however, because I made a notation when the flashbulb exploded.”

“You were where you could see it explode?”

“Yes, sir. I saw the flare of light.”

“And you customarily note such times?”

“You mean make notations of the time the lights flare up?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“And yet, when it came to fixing the time when you saw the defendant, Milicent Hardisty, throwing a gun away, you weren’t able to fix it very accurately, were you?”

The witness smiled. “My watches, Mr. Mason, are set sometimes by guess. When I make a note of the time a picture is taken, I do it for my own convenience, not because the standard time makes any difference. It is only the relative time. In other words, I wish the data for my own files. I want to know the relative time. That is, how long after the camera was set, before it was exposed, and things of that sort.”

“Yes,” Mason said, “so that your watch may at times be as much as half an hour off standard time?”

“I would say so, yes.”

Mason said, “Now, did you develop the picture that was taken when Burton Strague walked through the camera trap?”

Again Beaton smiled, “I did, yes, sir.”

“You don’t happen to have a print of that picture with you, do you?”

“No, sir. I haven’t.”

“But you did make a print of it?”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“And what did it show?”

“It showed Burt Strague walking along the trail.”

“Did it show his face plainly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Was it turned toward the camera, or away from it?”

“Toward the camera.”

“Was he walking rapidly?”

“He was walking right along, yes, sir.”

“Did the background show plainly?”

“No, sir. There is little or no background in any of my shots. I purposely select camera locations in places where a low-power flashbulb and a wide open lens will give me a picture of the animal against a black backdrop.”

“What lens is on the camera with which this picture was taken, Mr. Beaton?”

“You wish a technical description?”

“Yes.”

“On this particular camera it is a Taylor-Hobson-Cooke anastigmat of six-and-one-quarter-inch focal length, having a speed of F 3.5.”

Mason took from his wallet the carbon paper disk Drake had discovered. “Would you say it was about the diameter of this circle of carbon paper?”

Beaton became quite excited. “May I ask where you got that?”

Mason smiled. “Please answer my question first.”

“Yes. I would say it was about that—”

Hamilton Burger arose with ponderous dignity, said, “Your Honor, I have hesitated to object, because I felt that I wanted the defendants to have all the latitude possible. I realize that argument on an objection takes up more time than permitting irrelevant questions to be asked and answered. However, if this line of examination is going to continue, I shall certainly object—”

“Just a few more questions, and I am finished,” Mason said.

Judge Canfield started to say something, then checked himself, muttered curtly, “Very well, Mr. Mason, proceed.”

“Now then, as an expert tracker,” Mason said, “did you have occasion to examine Burt Strague’s tracks in the trail?”

“Yes, I noticed them.”

“And did they indicate anything concerning the speed at which he was walking?”

“Really, Your Honor, I must object to this,” Hamilton Burger said. “This is purely irrelevant. It is not proper cross-examination.”

“I can assure the Court it is very pertinent,” Mason said. “It tests the recollection of the witness, and it is proper cross-examination as to his qualifications. The Court will remember that the prosecution sought to qualify this witness as an expert on guns and tracks.”

“It’s rather far fetched,” McNair interposed.

Judge Canfield said, “The objection will be overruled. It’s proper cross-examination as to the qualifications of the witness as an expert tracker. The witness will answer the question.”

“The tracks were spaced rather far apart, and showed he was moving right along,” Beaton said.

“And the tracks were regularly spaced?”

“Yes.”

Mason smiled at the witness. “And did you notice anything unusual about that, Mr. Beaton?”

“What do you mean?”

“About the fact they were regularly spaced?”

“Why no.”

Mason said, “In other words, Mr. Beaton, as an expert tracker, when you see the tracks of a human being walking along a trail, going through a trap which trips a camera shutter, and at the same time suddenly explodes a brilliant flashbulb, you’d naturally expect these tracks to show the man had jumped back, or to one side, wouldn’t you? You’d hardly expect to find his tracks moving regularly along at evenly spaced intervals, would you?” Sheer incredulous surprise twisted the muscles of Rodney Beaton’s face.

“Can’t you answer that?” Mason asked.

“Good Heavens!” Beaton exclaimed. “I never thought of that!”

“As an expert tracker, you’ve noticed what happens with wild animals when they set off a flashbulb, haven’t you?”

“Yes, of course. It’s — I can’t understand it, Mr. Mason.”

“But you’re certain about the tracks?”

“Yes, sir. I’m certain. I noticed them particularly, although the significance of what I noticed didn’t occur to me until just now.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “I’ll ask you one more question and I am finished. The nature of those photographic traps which you rig up is such that when any strain is put upon a black silk thread stretched across the trail, the picture is taken?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And one final question,” Mason said. “Wouldn’t it be possible for a man to set an alarm clock to the tripping mechanism of your shutter, take a picture at any predetermined time? In other words, at any time the alarm should go off?”