Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Lonely Heiress

“Well, I’m going to stay right here until I get that check back,” Endicott declared truculently. “I don’t mind you taking a photograph of it, but I want it back.”

“We can have a photostat made at the first recess of the court,” the clerk said. “I can make a photostat within ten minutes.”

“Very well. I think Mr. Endicott wants to remain in court anyway,” the judge said, smiling at Endicott.

“It’s all right. I’ll stay right here,” Endicott said, and marched back to seat himself with his brother and sister in the rear of the courtroom.

“Lieutenant Tragg, back on the stand,” Hanover said.

Tragg resumed the stand.

“Now then, Lieutenant, I show you this carbon copy of a letter to Marilyn Marlow and ask you where you secured that letter.”

“Mr. Ralph Endicott gave it to me.”

“What did you do with it after that?”

“I showed it to the defendant.”

“And what did she say with reference to that letter?”

“She admitted that she had received the original in the mail and had destroyed it.”

“You may cross-examine,” Hanover said.

Mason said, “Lieutenant Tragg, you stated in effect that you had asked the defendant repeatedly whether or not she had placed the tennis things as shown in that photograph near the closet door for the purpose of bolstering her story, but that she had refused to admit it.”

“That’s right.”

“Isn’t that rather a prejudicial way of presenting a fact in the case, Lieutenant?”

“How do you mean?”

“In other words, you didn’t have one scintilla of evidence that would indicate that she had placed those tennis things near the door, did you?”

“Well, I felt pretty certain she had. If Rose Keeling had written her this letter the day before, and was packing her things to get out of town on the seventeenth, and taking a bath, just ready to travel, she certainly didn’t intend to go out and play tennis.”

“But, Lieutenant, how do you know she was packing her things?”

“Because she was packing two suitcases. One of them was fully packed and the other was about half packed.”

“You mean the other one was half unpacked, don’t you?”

“I mean it was packed! She was packing.”

“How do you know she wasn’t unpacking?”

“How do I know anything?” Lieutenant Tragg said. “The evidence was there. You could see it. The woman was packing.”

“Lieutenant, I show you this photograph of the bedroom and call your attention to a pile of clothes which were folded and placed on the bureau.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You saw those clothes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were they?”

“Clothes that she’d been folding and getting ready to put in the suitcase.”

“Did you examine that pile of clothes?” Mason asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You didn’t disturb it but you looked through it?”

“I took a peek here and there to see what was in there.”

“And what was in there?”

“Some underwear, a nightgown, some handkerchiefs, stockings, various things.”

“And they were folded to various dimensions, Lieutenant, but the external dimensions of the entire pile were just as shown here in the photograph?”

“That’s right. Some of the things were small, like handkerchiefs and underwear, but the outside dimensions of the whole pile just fitted the suitcase.”

“And, therefore, you assumed that she was getting ready to put them in the suitcase.”

“That’s right. She’d folded them so they’d just fit in the suitcase.”

“Do you think it is possible for a person to do that?”

“Of course it’s possible. The evidence is right there.”

“Isn’t the evidence equally amenable to the interpretation that the things had been packed in the suitcase and then were lifted out of the suitcase and placed on the bureau?”

“No.”

“After all,” Hanover said to the judge, “this is calling for a conclusion from the witness.”

“He’s qualified himself as an expert,” Mason said, “by swearing on his oath that the decedent was packing at the time of her death. I want to prove to him that he’s wrong.”

“Go ahead and try to prove it!” Hanover challenged.

Mason smilingly pushed back his chair, got to his feet, said, “Please give me that package, Della.”

Della Street handed him a large shopping bag.

Mason took a suitcase from beneath the counsel table, walked over to Lieutenant Tragg, said, “Lieutenant Tragg, you say it’s possible for a person to fold garments so they’ll fit into a suitcase without actually fitting them into the suitcase at the time they’re folded. Here are some feminine undergarments and other wearing apparel. Now, go ahead and fold those so they will exactly fit into this suitcase. Do it without putting them into the suitcase itself.”

Lieutenant Tragg said, “That’s easy,” and dove into the bag of garments, emerging with a pair of silk panties, much to his own embarrassment and the amusement of the courtroom.

“After all this isn’t a fair test,” Hanover objected.

“Why isn’t it a fair test?” Mason asked. “The Lieutenant says it can be done. Let’s see him do it.”

“It’s a cinch,” Lieutenant Tragg said. “Just give me a table or something to pile these on, and I’ll show Mr. Mason how it’s done.”

He cocked an eye at the suitcase, then spread the panties on the table. He next pulled a blouse from the shopping bag.

“Of course,” Tragg said, “I haven’t had too much experience in getting these things folded so they don’t wrinkle.”

“I understand,” Mason said. “You’re not supposed to be making a job of expert packing such as a woman would do. You’re simply showing the Court how it’s possible to put these clothes in a pile so that the external dimensions of the pile will exactly fit the suitcase.”

Lieutenant Tragg started folding the blouse, then observed the edges of the fold with a certain amount of disquiet. However, he bravely delved into the shopping bag, brought out more garments and arranged them in the form of a rough square.

“I think this will about do it,” he said.

Mason looked at the pile of garments and lowered them into the suitcase. “You have fully an inch and a half clearance here, Lieutenant.”

“Well, I’ll try it over again and make it bigger,” Tragg said impatiently.

He rearranged the garments.

Once more Mason fitted them and said, “And this is three-quarters of an inch too wide. I’ll have to bend up the edges of this pile in order to get it into the suitcase.”

“Well, look here,” Lieutenant Tragg said, “let me just put one garment down there so I can get the dimensions of the suitcase and then I’ll...”

“But you can’t do it that way,” Mason said, “because the pile must contain several garments. There are only a few garments here that would be big enough to give you an exact pattern.”

“Well, let me put in two or three and then I’ll...”

“But the minute you do that,” Mason said, "you’re unpacking the suitcase, Lieutenant.”

Tragg became awkwardly embarrassed as the extent of his dilemma suddenly dawned on him.

“So,” Mason said, “it would now appear that these garments which you saw on the bureau had been folded as they were put into the suitcase and then removed and placed on the bureau. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, I don’t know that they just exactly fitted into the suitcase.”

“But you said they did.”

“Well, it looked to me as though they did.”

“And the edges were exactly even and uniform? In the form of a rectangle?”

“On three sides, yes.”