Erle Gardner - The Case of the Rolling Bones

“Just a moment,” Judge Knox interrupted. “I think that answer has gone far enough. The answer, as given, most certainly answers the question, as asked. I think any statement made by the decedent to this witness for the purpose of showing motivation, malice, or bad blood between the parties should not be admitted in evidence unless it is shown that it was a dying statement. And I take it, counselor, your question didn’t call for such a communication?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Very well. Proceed.”

“Did you see the defendant on the night of the murder — the seventh of this month?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“At about ten-twenty-five in the evening.”

“Where?”

“Emerging from the room of Bill Hogarty — or John Milicant, whichever you want to call him.”

“Please state exactly what you saw and exactly what you did,” Kittering said.

Leeds told Judge Knox his story. At times, his voice was so low that even the court reporter had difficulty in hearing it. At times, he spoke more freely. Always he tried to push into the background his relationship with Inez Colton.

When he had finished, Kittering, evidently hoping to take Mason as much by surprise as possible, said abruptly, “Cross-examine.”

“That,” Mason said with a suave smile, “is all. I have no questions.”

Leeds seemed nonplused. The deputy district attorney was frankly incredulous.

“Do you mean to say there’s to be no cross-examination of this witness? You aren’t cross-examining on the question of identity?”

“No,” Mason said.

“Very well, the witness is excused, and I will now call one more witness slightly out of order — Mr. Guy T. Serle.”

Judge Knox looked down at Perry Mason. “Any objection, counselor?” he said.

“None whatever,” Mason said.

Serle came slowly forward, was sworn, answered the usual preliminary questions, and then glanced expectantly at Kittering.

“You knew William Hogarty, alias John Milicant, alias Louie Conway, in his lifetime?” Kittering asked.

“I did.”

“You saw him on the evening of the seventh of this month?”

“I did.”

“Where?”

“At his apartment.”

“When?”

“Some time around half past seven or quarter to eight in the evening.”

“Who was present?”

“Just Conway — that is, Hogarty — and myself.”

“How long were you there?”

“Until around twenty minutes past eight.”

“What happened at that time? Just tell the court what was said and what was done.”

“Well, Conway...”

“I think,” Kittering interrupted, “that in view of the proof which we now have available, it will be better, for the sake of the record, if you refer to him as Hogarty.”

“Very well. Hogarty and I had had some business dealings. He’d sold me a business. Police had raided it. I figured it was because of a squawk from one of Louie’s customers or from someone who was gunning for Louie. I told him I thought it was on a tip-off from Alden Leeds. Louie didn’t seem at all surprised. I wanted Louie — Hogarty — to stand back of me. He said he would.”

“Was there any other conversation?” Kittering asked.

“That was the substance of it. Hogarty was interrupted by a lot of telephone calls, and he hadn’t eaten any dinner and neither had I. He told me to call a number that he gave me and order a dinner. I put in the call and the dinner came up. It wasn’t Louie — Hogarty — who called. I did the telephoning. I guess it was right around ten minutes past eight when the dinner arrived. We were both in a hurry and we ate fast. Then I shook hands with Hogarty and left.”

“Wasn’t there some other conversation?” Kittering asked.

“Oh, yes. He told me to call back at ten o’clock, and he’d let me know if things were okay.”

“At what time?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you call him back?”

“I did.”

“When?”

“At ten o’clock on the dot. He told me things were okay, that he was to have a conference in about ten minutes and that he expected the conference would take about ten minutes, that he’d be free after that and would be sitting right there waiting for my call.”

“What time did you call him?” Kittering asked.

“At ten o’clock exactly.”

“Cross-examine,” Kittering flung triumphantly at Perry Mason.

Mason said, in a tone of voice which was that of an ordinary, informal conversation, “You felt that Alden Leeds had given the officers the tip which resulted in a police raid on your place of business?”

“I figured that was possible.”

“And Milicant — or Hogarty, whichever he was — also figured that way?”

“Well, he admitted it was possible. We knew Leeds would be gunning for Conway, trying to get him out of the way — only Leeds didn’t know Conway and Milicant were the same, and he hadn’t recognized Milicant as Hogarty. He thought Hogarty was dead. Hogarty said he was going to get Leeds in and tell him he was Conway.”

“Did you have any trouble getting Milicant to agree to come to your rescue?”

“None whatever. He recognized that it wasn’t fair to make me the goat in his business.”

“Did your troubles affect your appetite?” Mason asked.

“My appetite?”

“Yes.”

“No. When things go against you, they go against you. That’s all there is to it. There’s no use pulling a baby act.”

“Isn’t it a fact that in the Home Kitchen Café on the eighth of this month at some time during the lunch hour, you intimated to me that if Alden Leeds would give you some form of financial renumeration, you would change your testimony so it would appear that telephone conversation with Conway took place after Leeds had left Conway’s apartment?”

“That’s not true,” the witness shouted, “and you know it’s not true!”

“You made no such offer?”

“No. You tried to bribe me and I told you Alden Leeds didn’t have money enough to make me change my story. You tried to threaten me, to bribe me, and to intimidate me.”

Judge Knox regarded Mason in frowning concentration, but Mason casually passed on to something else.

“Mr. Serle,” he asked, “you were arrested the night of the murder on a felony charge, were you not?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been prosecuted on that felony charge?”

Kittering was on his feet. “Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” he said. “It is not a proper question by way of impeachment. It is only when a witness has been convicted of a felony that that point can be brought out on cross-examination.”

Mason said, “I am not trying to impeach the witness. I am trying to show bias.”

“Objection overruled,” Judge Knox said.

“I haven’t been tried on that case,” Serle said, “because there wasn’t any case. The raid was made on a tip-off from Alden Leeds. There wasn’t any evidence.”

“As a matter of fact,” Mason said, “you were shrewd enough to realize that you could ingratiate yourself with the district attorney’s office by changing the time of that telephone conversation from ten-thirty to ten o‘clock, and did so. Now isn’t it a fact that this telephone conversation which you have referred to as taking place at ten o’clock actually did not occur until approximately thirty minutes later?”

“That is not a fact,” Serle shouted.

“And that as you first related that conversation to the officers at headquarters and as you subsequently related it to me there in the Home Kitchen Café, you made no mention of Hogarty telling you that he had a conference in ten minutes which he expected would take about ten minutes?”