Erle Gardner - The Case of the Postponed Murder

Oscar Overmeyer said in a loud half whisper: “You’d better go if you don’t want a contempt citation. This guy means business.”

Runcifer moved slowly forward, held up his hand, and was sworn.

Emil Scanlon said, “Do you have in your possession a photograph which purports to be a print of the flashlight photograph taken by the witness who last testified?”

“Your Honour, I object to that,” Oscar Overmeyer said. “That is a part of the—”

“I don’t want any objections,” Scanlon said. “I want that photograph if you have it.”

There was a moment of tense, dramatic silence. Then Runcifer said, “Very much against my wishes and over my protests, I produce the photograph the justice of the peace has requested.” Runcifer could not keep a condescending tone out of his voice when he said “justice of the peace.”

He opened his briefcase and took out an enlargement on glossy paper which he handed to the Justice. At the same time he favoured Perry Mason with a glance of savage hostility.

“While we’re about it,” Scanlon said casually, “you seem to have a lot of other photographs there. What are they, pictures showing the interior of the Pennwent? ”

“Yes.”

“Let’s have them,” Scanlon said.

Runcifer took out a series of pictures, explaining that they showed the posture of the body when it was discovered, the interior of the cabin when the yacht had been brought in, the exterior of the yacht, the yacht in its berth at the Yacht Club, and an airplane view of the club showing the floats to which boats were moored.

Scanlon marked them all in numerical order and announced them as exhibits. “That’s all, Mr. Runcifer,” he said. “Thank you.”

Runcifer stalked stiffly back to his seat.

“Well,” Scanlon said, “let’s hear from Hazel Tooms. Will you come forward and be sworn, please?”

There was a craning of necks, but no rustle of motion usual when a witness moves toward the witness box.

Scanlon frowned and said, “Wasn’t she under subpoena?”

Runcifer said acidly, “She was under subpoena. She stated that at least one attempt had been made to get her to leave the country. When she was subpoenaed, we believe she was about to put herself beyond the jurisdiction of the court.”

“I’m not concerned with that,” Emil Scanlon said. “We’re holding only one postmortem, and that’s on the death of Wentworth and the probable involvement of the accused, Mae Farr. The question is, where is this witness now?”

“I don’t know,” Runcifer said.

Scanlon’s eyes turned to Perry Mason and became suddenly stern. “Mr. Mason,” he said, “I think I’ll now ask you to take the stand.”

Mason obediently took the witness stand, realizing that any protest would be quickly overruled.

“Do you know this witness, Hazel Tooms?” Emil Scanlon asked.

“I do.”

“Did you talk with her about the case?”

“I did.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“I do not.”

“Do you know how she happened to leave?”

“Not of my own knowledge, no.”

“Were you directly or indirectly responsible for her departure?”

“No.”

“That’s all,” the Justice said.

Runcifer said eagerly, “I’d like to ask this witness one or two questions.”

Scanlon hesitated a moment, then said, “I didn’t give him an opportunity to ask you any questions.”

“This is different,” Runcifer said.

“I’ll hear the question and see if I permit it,” Scanlon said.

“When you talked with Miss Tooms, wasn’t the subject discussed that she might leave the country for a financial consideration, and didn’t you discuss with her the amount of money necessary?”

“You might put it that way,” Mason said calmly. “She made the proposition. I turned it down.”

“Oh,” Runcifer said, his voice filled with sarcasm. “You went to her apartment. She told you that she had testimony which would be very damaging to your client, and offered to leave the country, and you were too ethical to even entertain such a proposition. Is that the idea you wish to convey?”

Scanlon said, “You don’t have to answer that question, Mr. Mason. Now then, Mr. Runcifer, we’re not going to have any more such bursts of sarcasm from Counsel. We’re here to try and find out whether there’s enough evidence to hold this accused for trial in Superior Court for the murder of Penn Wentworth. That’s all. You can air your grievances some other place than in my courtroom.”

Mason said, “Begging Your Honour’s pardon, I’d like to answer the question.”

“Go ahead,” the Justice said.

Mason crossed his long legs in front of him, smiled down at Runcifer, and said, “Your question assumes an erroneous fact, Mr. Runcifer. The testimony which Hazel Tooms was to have given, in place of being detrimental to my client, was really most advantageous. I regret that she isn’t here.”

“All right,” Runcifer said triumphantly. “Since you’ve opened the door as to the nature of her testimony, I’ll ask you this question. I assume the Justice will admit it. He’s let in everything else. Isn’t it a fact that she said she had gone to the Yacht Club to call on Wentworth, that Wentworth had advised her he was going to Ensenada that night and asked her to go along, that she went back to get some groceries and some clothes, and when she returned, the yacht was gone, that she waited for some time, and while she was waiting, she saw Frank Marley’s boat come into its landing, that she watched to see who had been piloting that boat, and that the only person who left it was Mae Farr, your client.”

“That,” Mason said calmly, “is substantially what she said.”

“And you consider that that is to the advantage of your client?” Runcifer asked.

Mason nodded gravely. “I do.”

There was a moments astonished silence, followed by a whispered conference on the part of the deputy district attorneys.

Scanlon said, “I guess that’s all, Mr. Mason. I think that’s all the examination I’ll permit anyway. You may leave the stand.”

Mason returned to his chair.

Runcifer got to his feet and said, almost pleadingly.

“Won’t the Justice permit me to ask Mr. Mason one more question?”

“I don’t think so,” Scanlon said. “You seem to have covered the situation pretty well. What was the question you wanted to ask?”

“I wanted to ask Mr. Mason just how he could possibly claim that that testimony was of any advantage to his client.”

Scanlon shook his head. “That would mean just a lot of argument,” he said.

Mason, from his chair, said, “I think perhaps if Your Honour permitted that question and I answered it, it might clear up a lot of misunderstandings right now.”

“Go ahead and answer it,” Scanlon said. “To be perfectly frank, I’m interested in the answer although I consider the question somewhat improper and an attempt to take advantage of a witness who apparently has been very fair and frank. Go ahead and answer it, Mr. Mason.”

Mason walked up to Scanlon’s bench where the photographs were spread out and said, “In answering that question, it’s going to be necessary to correlate certain facts at some length.”

“Go ahead and correlate them,” Scanlon invited. “That’s what we’re here for. Just make it terse and logical and keep within the facts, and we’ll listen. We don’t want to hear any impassioned arguments.”

“I’m not going to make any,” Mason said with a smile.

“Go ahead,” Scanlon invited, “and answer the question.”

Mason said, “I think the tag which was given to this case by learned counsel for the prosecution is perhaps the best description of the case. Your Honour will remember that he referred to it as ‘The Case of the Postponed Murder.’