Эрл Гарднер - The Case of the Lonely Heiress

Alvin was duly sworn, answered the preliminary questions and then turned to Mason expectantly.

Mason said, “For the purposes of this examination, Your Honor, it might be better to show the witness the original certified check rather than the photostat. If Mr. Ralph Endicott will stand up beside the witness, he can show the witness the check as I ask him the question.”

Ralph Endicott moved over toward the witness stand.

“You certified a check purported to have been drawn by Rose Keeling, dated the seventeenth of the month and payable to Ralph Endicott, and being in the sum of one thousand dollars?” Mason asked.

“I believe I did, yes, sir.”

“Please show him the check, Mr. Endicott.”

Endicott handed the check to the cashier.

“That’s right. Yes, sir. That’s the check and that’s my signature. It was certified at ten minutes past ten on the morning of the seventeenth.”

“Go ahead and ask him about Rose Keeling’s signature,” Hanover said tauntingly.

Mason bowed. “And that’s Rose Keeling’s signature?”

“That’s correct.”

“You were acquainted with Rose Keeling personally?”

“I knew her signature.”

“And were acquainted with her personally?”

“Yes, I knew her when I saw her.”

“You knew that she was a nurse?”

“Yes.”

“Now, can you tell us exactly what happened when Mr. Endicott appeared and asked you to certify that check?”

“Why, yes, I took the check, felt positive that it was the genuine signature of Rose Keeling, but knew I had to check her balance, and decided to check her signature at the same time.”

“Why did you do that?”

“She didn’t usually carry a very large balance, and I remember thinking that a thousand dollars was rather a large check for her to issue in one amount. I wanted to make certain that she had that amount on deposit. While I was checking the balance I decided that I’d check her signature just to make sure.”

“So you compared the signature on the check with her signature on the records of the account?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And found she had a thousand dollars on deposit?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you remember the exact amount of her balance?”

“I can refresh my recollection.”

“Do so.”

The cashier looked at his records, said, “The exact balance was eleven hundred and sixty-two dollars and forty-eight cents.”

“If that check had been presented the week before, would it have been good?” Mason asked.

The cashier smiled and shook his head.

“How did it happen that it was good on that particular day?”

“She had deposited one thousand dollars in cash on the afternoon of the sixteenth, shortly before closing hours.”

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

“No questions on cross-examination,” Hanover said.

The cashier picked up his brief case and left the witness stand.

Mason said, “Just a moment. I’d like to have Mr. Ralph Endicott answer another question. He’s already been sworn. You might just return to the witness stand, Mr. Endicott.”

“This is further cross-examination?” Judge Osborn asked.

“Further cross-examination,” Mason said. “Just a question or two.”

Endicott slid into the witness chair.

“You’ve already been sworn,” Mason said. “You’ve heard the testimony of the cashier of the Central Security Bank?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You did present that check to him for certification?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know anything about the ink smear which appears on the back of the check? The smear of a thumbprint?”

“Yes, sir. I explained that to you a few days ago when you first asked me about it.”

“And what was the explanation?”

“When I presented the check at the bank I started to endorse it. I got some ink on my finger from the fountain pen and that ink left the imprint of my thumb on the back of the check.”

“Exactly,” Mason said. “Now, I notice that that is a different type of ink, a different quality of ink from that which appears on the face of the check.”

“That’s right.”

“And that,” Mason said, “is because you use a ball-point fountain pen which writes with ink which is inserted into the pen under pressure and is a different type of ink from that used in the fountain pen with which Rose Keeling customarily signs her name.”

“I don’t know about what kind of a pen she uses,” Endicott said suspiciously.

“You will notice the shading in the lines of the signature on that check which you have, Mr. Endicott. That was written by Rose Keeling?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you notice the shading?”

“Yes, sir. I do, now that you call my attention to it.”

“And it is impossible to shade with a ball-point fountain pen. No matter how much pressure is exerted, the width of the line remains the same?”

“I guess so. Yes.”

“But you use a ball-point fountain pen and Rose Keeling customarily used a conventional fountain pen?”

“Apparently that’s right.”

“But this letter which she sent Marilyn Marlow, and a carbon copy of which was sent to you, must have been written with a ball-point pen?”

“Apparently it was. Yes, sir.”

“Your pen?” Mason asked.

“What makes you ask that?”

Mason smiled and said, “Because, Mr. Endicott, the evidence would now indicate that you had called on Rose Keeling on the sixteenth, that you had bribed her by giving her a thousand dollars in cash and got her to write this letter at your dictation and send it to Marilyn Marlow. You had taken a carbon copy for your own protection.”

“That’s not true!” Endicott said savagely.

“And the next day,” Mason went on smoothly, “Rose Keeling had a change of heart. She called you and told you she wasn’t going to go through with it, that she was going to tell Marilyn the whole story and that she was going to give you the thousand dollars back. You called on her and tried to persuade her not to do this, but nevertheless she gave you the thousand-dollar check. Isn’t that right?”

Endicott moistened his lips with his tongue. “No, sir,” he said, “that’s not right!"

Mason smiled and said, “No, Mr. Endicott, I don’t think it’s right.”

“I’m glad you don’t, because that’s an unwarranted accusation.”

“But the reason I don’t think it’s right,” Mason said, “is because I don’t think you were the one who called on her the next day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me see that fountain pen you’re carrying in your pocket,” Mason said.

Endicott handed him the pen, then suddenly thinking over the situation, made a grab for it, trying to get it back.

Mason avoided the grasping hand, unscrewed the cap and said, “But this isn’t a pen with a ball-point. And it has your name stamped on it. It is a conventional stub-point, rubber sac fountain pen.”

“It’s an old one,” Endicott said. “My ball-point is my new one. I loaned it to someone and haven’t got it back — never did get it back — or if I did, I lost it. I haven’t been able to find it for some few days now.”

Mason said, “You say that’s your thumbprint on the back of the check. Suppose you just make your thumbprint here so we can see if it matches.”

“But, Your Honor,” Hanover protested, “that’s incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It’s not proper cross-examination. It has no bearing on the case.”

Mason said, “It has a bearing on it now. The man has sworn that’s his thumbprint. I submit, Your Honor, that it’s not. And this man can be prosecuted for perjury. Go ahead and make your thumbprint, Mr. Endicott. I challenge you to do so!”