Officials from the sheriff's office hod paved the way for the examination of the premises by the jurors. The jurors stood in a body on the sidewalk, looked at the space between the two apartment houses. Upon stipulation of counsel, a deputy sheriff pointed out the windows of the Crandall apartment and also the windows of Apartment B in the Colemont Apartments. The jurors were taken up to the apartment where the murder had been committed. Deputies had previously arranged with Sidney Otis to have the apartment open for inspection.
John Lucas motioned to Judge Markham, drew him off to one side and beckoned to Perry Mason. "May we point out the doorbell and press the button?"
"No objection," said Perry Mason.
A deputy sheriff pointed out the bell button. He pressed the button. The faint ringing of the bell could be heard in the upper apartment.
"Now," Perry Mason said, "if tests are being made with that doorbell, it should be removed, properly identified, and introduced in evidence."
John Lucas hesitated a moment. "We will do that," he said, "when we return to court."
He turned to the deputy sheriff. "What's the name of the present tenant of the apartment?" he asked.
"Sidney Otis."
"Slap a subpoena on him," ordered John Lucas in the majestic manner of a king who is accustomed to command and receive implicit obedience. "Bring him into court. And disconnect that doorbell and bring it into court.
"And now," said John Lucas in an undertone, "we'll take the jurors up to Apartment B in the Colemont Apartments, so they can look across into the windows of this upstairs apartment." He turned to the deputy sheriff, stared significantly at him. "You," he said, "can be disconnecting that doorbell while we're up there."
It took two trips of the elevator for the jurors to reach the Crandall apartment, the elevator being packed to capacity both times. When the jurors had all been assembled and had crowded to the windows, which were open, and were staring across the space into the apartment where the murder had been committed, a whirring bell exploded the silence. There was an interval and then the bell rang again, long and insistent.
Perry Mason grabbed John Lucas by the arm, rushed him across to confront Judge Markham, said, out of earshot of the jury, "Your Honor, that is manifestly unfair. There was no stipulation that the doorbell was to be rung while the jurors were assembled here. That's equivalent to the taking of testimony."
John Lucas kept his face innocent and guileless. "This," he said, "comes as very much of a surprise to me. I certainly didn't know that the bell was going to ring. I did instruct a deputy to disconnect the doorbell. Doubtless, in disconnecting it he pressed the button which caused it to ring."
Perry Mason said thoughtfully, "And I noticed you were engaged in a whispered conversation with him when the question was brought up in court as to whether it was possible for a witness to have heard the doorbell ring across the intervening space. And I noticed, further, that you gave the deputy a very significant look just before you left the other apartment house."
"Are you making an accusation?" Lucas flared.
Judge Markham said slowly, "That will do, gentlemen. We'll discuss the matter later. You have raised your voices and it is possible for the jurors to hear what we are discussing."
"I am going to move," Perry Mason said in a low voice, "to have the jury instructed to disregard the ringing of that doorbell."
Lucas laughed, and his laugh was triumphant.
"You might strike it out of the records," he said, "but you'd never strike it out of the minds of the jurors."
Judge Markham frowned at him, stared at Perry Mason, and said in a low voice, "I'm very sorry it occurred, but undoubtedly the deputy district attorney is correct. Having occurred, there's nothing in particular that can be done about it. You can't erase from the minds of the jurors what they have heard."
"I had the right," Perry Mason said, "to use that as a point in my defense, to argue that it was a physical impossibility for the ringing of a doorbell to have been distinctly audible."
Despite his attempt to keep his features politely expressionless, there was a glint of triumph in John Lucas's eyes. "You can, of course," he said, "still argue the point."
Judge Markham shook his head firmly. "Gentlemen," he said, "this discussion will terminate immediately. If there should be any further discussion, it will take place in court."
John Lucas nodded, moved away. Perry Mason hesitated. The doorbell rang once more in the apartment where the murder had been committed, remained ringing for several seconds. John Lucas ran to the window and shouted, "Shut off that doorbell. The jurors weren't supposed to have heard it ring."
One of the jurors snickered audibly. Perry Mason clamped his lips in a firm, straight line. "Of course," Judge Markham said in a low tone of voice, "if you wish to have an investigation, Counselor, of any possible understanding between the deputy and the district attorney's office…"
Perry Mason's laugh was sarcastic. "You know how much I'd find out," he said bitterly.
Judge Markham retained his judicial impassivity of countenance. "Is there any further inspection to be made?" he asked.
John Lucas shook his head.
"No," Perry Mason said curtly.
"We will then," ordered Judge Markham, "return to court. We can probably take some additional testimony before the evening adjournment."
The jurors elected to walk down the stairs rather than ride in the elevator. Waiting cars whisked them back to the courtroom, where they promptly took their places in the jury box. "Proceed," Judge Markham said.
"I will," said John Lucas, "call Ellen Crandall."
Ellen Crandall had dressed with care for the occasion. She moved forward, conscious of the eyes of the crowded courtroom. Her face held a fixed expression, an expression which evidently had been carefully practiced for the occasion. It was as though she wished the spectators to understand her appreciation of the gravity of the occasion, as well as the importance of the testimony she was about to give. Under the questioning of John Lucas, she testified to exactly the same set of facts that her husband had testified to, except that she had, perhaps, been more awake during the time of the struggle. She had heard the sound of the blow more distinctly, and she was positive that she had, following the sound of the blow, heard surreptitious whispers.
The hour for the evening adjournment found John Lucas just completing his direct examination. Perry Mason got to his feet. "After your Honor admonishes the jurors," he said, "I have a matter to take up with Court and counsel which concerns another phase of the case and should probably be discussed in the absence of the jurors."
"Very well," agreed Judge Markham, and, turning to the jury, said, "it appears that the usual hour of evening adjournment has been reached. The Court is not impounding the jury during the trial of this case, but wishes to impress upon you, nevertheless, that you have a responsibility as a part of the machinery of justice. The Court is about to adjourn until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. During that adjournment you will be careful not to discuss this case among yourselves, nor to permit others to discuss it in your presence. You will form or express no opinion concerning the guilt or innocence of the accused. You will refrain from reading any newspaper accounts of the trial, and you will promptly report to the Court any one who seeks to discuss this matter in your presence or any one who makes any advances to you."
The judge's gavel banged upon the marble slab on the top of his bench and the jurors filed from the courtroom.
When the jury had gone, Perry Mason arose and faced Judge Markham. "Your Honor," he said, "Rhoda Montaine has filed suit for divorce against Carl Montaine. In connection with the proper preparation of that case for trial, it has become necessary for me to take the deposition of Carl Montaine; that deposition has been noticed for tomorrow. In order to facilitate matters, I have arranged that the deposition may be taken during the noon recess. It may, however, require a little additional time to complete the deposition, in which event I shall ask the indulgence of the Court."
John Lucas, sneeringly sure of himself, made an impatient gesture. "Counsel well knows," he said, "that the only object of that deposition is to go on a fishing expedition with one of prosecution's witnesses before that witness is put on the stand."
Perry Mason bowed mockingly. "A witness," he said, "who has been wetnursed by the prosecution ever since the death of Gregory Moxley."
"Gentlemen," said Judge Markham, "that will do. Counsel is entitled to take the deposition of the witness if he wishes. That is the law. If the deposition is noticed for tomorrow, it will be taken up tomorrow."
"Under stipulation with the counsel who is representing Carl Montaine," said Perry Mason, "the deposition will be somewhat informal. It will be taken before Miss Della Street, my secretary, who is a notary public as well as an efficient shorthand reporter. Counsel for Carl Montaine and myself will be present. The deposition is a purely civil matter. I do not understand that Counselor Lucas will seek to be present. If…"
"I've got a right to be present if I want to," thundered Lucas.
"You have not," said Perry Mason. "This is purely a civil matter. You do not now appear as civil counsel for Montaine. Therefore it has been necessary for him to retain other counsel. The other counsel agrees with me that this is purely a civil matter, and…"
Judge Markham's gavel again banged on the desk.
"Gentlemen," he said, "this discussion is entirely out of order. Court will suit your convenience tomorrow in the taking of the deposition, Mr. Mason. Court is adjourned."
John Lucas, gloating in the triumph of a day during which he had built up a case against the defendant which Perry Mason had been unable to shake, smiled sneeringly at Mason and said in a voice loud enough to be heard over much of the courtroom, "Well, Mason, you seem to lack much of your usual fire today. You didn't get very far crossexamining the Crandalls about the doorbell, did you?"
Mason said politely, "You forget that I have not finished with my crossexamination."
The answering laugh of John Lucas was taunting.
Perry Mason stopped at a telephone booth and telephoned the hotel where C. Phillip Montaine, the Chicago millionaire, was registered. "Is Mr. Montaine in his room?" he asked.
After a moment he was assured that Mr. Montaine had not as yet returned to his room. "When he returns," said Perry Mason, "please give him a message from Perry Mason. Tell him that if he will arrange to be at my office at seventhirty tomorrow evening I think I can arrange matters with him in regard to a property settlement in his son's divorce case. Will you see that he gets that message?"
"Yes," said the telephone clerk.
Perry Mason rang Della Street. "Della," he said, "I left a message for C. Phillip Montaine at his hotel, saying that if he would meet me at my office at seventhirty tomorrow night I would arrange a complete property settlement between Rhoda and Carl. I don't know whether he will get that message. Will you ring him this evening and make sure?"
"Yes, chief," she said. "You won't be coming to the office?"
"No."
"Listen, chief," she told him, "Carl Montaine can't come to your office. The district attorney is keeping him in custody, isn't he?"
Perry Mason chuckled.
"That's right, Della."
"But you want C. Phillip Montaine to be here anyway, is that it?"
"Yes."
"Okay," she said. "I'll see that he gets the message."
That night the city editor of the Chronicle, examining the transcript of proceedings for the day, with the eagle eye of a newspaper man who had seen Perry Mason in action and who knew that lawyer's masterly technique of placing bombs in the prosecution's case timed to explode with deadly effect at the most inopportune moments, was impressed by the peculiar phraseology of Perry Mason's questions concerning the doorbell. He sent two of his best reporters out with instructions to corner the attorney and get an interview from him in regard to the significance of that particular phase of the case. The reporters, however, scoured the city and were unsuccessful. Not until court convened the next morning did Perry Mason put in a public appearance. Then, freshly shaven, with a certain jauntiness in his manner, he stepped through the swinging doors of the courtroom, precisely five seconds before court was called to order.
Judge Markham, taking his place on the bench, observed that the jurors were all present, the defendant was in court, and instructed Mrs. Crandall to once more take the witness stand for crossexamination.
Perry Mason addressed himself to the court. "Your Honor," he said, "it was agreed between counsel yesterday that the doorbell taken from the apartment where Gregory Moxley met his death would be received in evidence. I desire to crossexamine this witness concerning the sound of that doorbell, and have had an electrician prepare a set of dry batteries, properly wired with clamps which can be adjusted to the bell, so that I can ring the bell itself in court, so as to test the recollection of the witness as to the manner in which it was rung. The Court will remember that yesterday the husband of this witness testified generally to the sound of the bell as having been 'an entirely different type of bell. In the first place, there was more of a whirring sound to it. In the second place, it rang at longer intervals than a telephone bell rings.
"I have quoted, your Honor, from the testimony of Mr. Crandall, as it has been written up by the court reporter. Obviously, such testimony is merely the conclusion of a witness, and, in view of the fact that Mrs. Crandall has given similar testimony, I feel that I should be able to crossexamine these witnesses with the doorbell itself in evidence. In view of the fact that the bell has been brought to court, I ask permission of the Court to have this witness step down from the stand long enough to enable the prosecution to introduce its evidence, identifying the doorbell and making it available for such tests."
Judge Markham glanced at John Lucas. "Any objections?" he asked.
John Lucas made a throwing gesture with his arms spreading them wide apart as though baring his breast to the inspection of the jury. His manner was aggressively frank. "Certainly not," he said. "We are only too glad to put our evidence in in such a manner that it will assist counsel for the defense in his crossexamination of our witnesses. We want counsel to have every possible opportunity for crossexamination." With a smirk, he sat down.
Judge Markham nodded to Mrs. Crandall. "Just step down for a moment, Mrs. Crandall," he said, and then nodded to John Lucas. "Very well, Counselor," he said in a voice sufficiently uncordial to apprise Lucas that further attempts to grandstand in front of the jury would meet with judicial rebuff, "proceed to introduce the doorbell in evidence."
"Call Sidney Otis," said Lucas.
The big electrician lumbered forward, glanced at Perry Mason, then glanced hurriedly away. He held his eyes downcast while he raised his hand, listened to the oath being administered. Then he sat on the edge of the witness chair and looked expectantly at John Lucas.
"Your name?" asked John Lucas.
"Sidney Otis."
"Where do you reside?"
"Apartment B, Colemont Apartments, 316 Norwalk Avenue."
"What's your occupation?"
"An electrician."
"How old are you?"
"Fortyeight."
"When did you move into the apartment which you now occupy?"
"About the twentieth of June, I think it was."
"You're familiar with the doorbell in the apartment which you occupy, Mr. Otis?"
"Oh, yes."
"As an electrician you have perhaps noticed it more or less particularly?"
"Yes."
"Has the bell been changed or tampered with in any way since you occupied the apartment?"
Sidney Otis squirmed uncomfortably on the witness stand.
"Not since I moved into the apartment," he said.
"You say the bell has not been changed since you moved into the apartment?" John Lucas asked, puzzled.
"That's right."
"Had it, to your own knowledge, been changed or tampered with in any way prior to the time you moved into the apartment?"
"Yes."
John Lucas suddenly snapped to startled, upright rigidity. "What was that?" he demanded.
"I said it had been changed," said Sidney Otis.
"It had what?"
"Been changed."
"How? In what way?" asked John Lucas, his face taking on a slow flush of anger.
"I'm an electrician," said Sidney Otis simply. "When I moved into that apartment I put on a doorbell that I took from my own store."
There was an expression of relief apparent on the face of the deputy district attorney. "Oh, so you wanted to put on one of your own bells, is that it?"
"Yes."
"I see," said Lucas, smiling now, "and the bell that you took out when you installed yours you have kept in your possession, have you?"
"I kept it," said Sidney Otis, "but it wasn't a bell—it was a buzzer."
There was a tense, dramatic silence in the courtroom. Eyes of judge, jurors and spectators turned to the frank, honest face of Sidney Otis, then turned to stare at John Lucas, whose face, flushed and angry red, was twisting with emotion. His hands were gripping the edge of the counsel table so that the skin showed white over his knuckles. "When did you move into this apartment?" he asked ominously.
"About the twentieth or twentyfirst of June somewhere along in there."
"And just before you moved into the apartment, you changed the doorbell?"
"That's right. I took off the buzzer and put on a bell."
Lucas took a deep breath. "Look here," he said. "You're an electrician?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you had occasion to go in the other apartments in that building?"
"No, sir."
"Then you don't know, as a matter of fact, that there are bells in the other three apartments, and that the very remarkable and single exception was discovered by you when you moved into your apartment and found a buzzer in it?"
"I don't know as I get just what you mean," Sidney Otis said, "but if you mean that my apartment was the only one that had a buzzer in it, you're wrong, because the other upstairs apartment had a buzzer."
"How do you know, if you've never been in the apartment? Did some one tell you?"
"No, sir, but you see, when I was putting on the bell in my apartment I started checking up on the wiring, and while I was doing that I pressed the buttons on the other apartments. I don't know what's on the two downstairs apartments, but on the other upstairs apartment my wife could hear the buzzer sounding when I pressed the button."
John Lucas snapped his mouth shut with grim determination. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he said. He whirled to a deputy sheriff. "Get out there and find if there are buzzers on those other apartments," he said, in a voice that was distinctly audible to the jury.
Judge Markham banged his gavel. "Counselor," he said, "as long as you are in court before this jury, you will confine your remarks to questions of the witness and comments to the Court."
Lucas was quivering with rage. He bowed his head in silent assent to the Court's admonition, turned to Perry Mason and, for a moment, could not trust his voice, then he said, after an abortive motion of his lips, "Crossexamine."
Perry Mason waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Why," he said, "I've no questions. In fact, I find myself very much at a loss as to how to proceed because I had intended to make some tests with the doorbell. It now appears that this doorbell wasn't the one that was in the apartment when Moxley was killed."
John Lucas whirled to face the witness. "That's all," he said. "You're excused, Mr. Otis. I will call, if the Court please, as my next witness…"
"You forget," interrupted Perry Mason, "that Mrs. Crandall was on the stand for crossexamination. I had just started my crossexamination of her when she was withdrawn, in order to permit you to call Sidney Otis as your witness."
"Very well," said Judge Markham, "you may proceed with the crossexamination of Mrs. Crandall. Take the stand, Mrs. Crandall." Ellen Crandall again took the witness stand, looking very much bewildered.
"Directing your attention to the bell that you heard during the time when the sounds of struggle were coming from the apartment where the murder was committed," said Perry Mason, "are you prepared to state positively that that was not a telephone bell that you heard?"
"I don't think it was," said Mrs. Crandall.
"What are your reasons for saying that?"
"Because it didn't ring like a telephone bell. A telephone bell rings a short ring, then there's a minute of silence and then another ring. It's a mechanical ringing, and it's a higherpitched bell. This was more of a whirring sound."
"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I don't want to trick you, Mrs. Crandall, and if it should appear that there wasn't any doorbell in that apartment, but that there was a buzzer, then it must, of course, be true that it couldn't have been the doorbell which you heard."
John Lucas got to his feet. "Objected to," he said, "as argumentative."
"The question may be argumentative," said Judge Markham, "but I am going to permit it. This is manifestly a fair method of crossexamination, even if the phraseology of the question may make it objectionable. The objection is overruled."
"I thought it was a doorbell," said Mrs. Crandall.
"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I am going to direct your attention to the photograph, People's Exhibit B, and show you that there is an alarm clock in that photograph. Isn't it possible, Mrs. Crandall, that the bell which you heard on the night of the murder, at the same time you heard the sounds of a struggle and conflict, was the bell on the alarm clock?"
Mrs. Crandall's face lit up. "Why, yes," she said, "it might have been. Come to think of it, perhaps it was. It must have been."
Perry Mason addressed the Court. "Now, your Honor," he said, "I desire to crossexamine this witness by letting her hear the identical bell on this alarm clock. She has had her recollection tested by hearing the ringing of a doorbell in the apartment occupied by the victim of the homicide on the night of the killing. It now appears that that doorbell was not in the apartment at the time. It further appears, from the prosecution's own testimony, that the alarm clock was. I therefore insist that the prosecution shall produce this alarm clock here and now."
Judge Markham looked down at John Lucas. "Any objections?" he asked.
"You bet there's objection!" shouted John Lucas, getting to his feet. "We'll put on our case in any way we see fit. We're not going to be browbeaten or tricked…"
Judge Markham's gavel banged repeatedly. "Counselor," he said, "sit down. Your comments are improper as argument or as statement. A request has been made that the prosecution produce an article which was taken from the room where the homicide was committed. This article is admittedly in the custody of the prosecution. In view of the testimony that has been introduced on the direct examination of this witness concerning the ringing of a bell in the apartment, I believe that it is within the legitimate bounds of crossexamination to ask this witness concerning any bell which was in the apartment, and to let her listen to it for the purpose of ascertaining whether it is the bell in question or not. I direct, therefore, that the alarm clock be brought into court."
John Lucas sat rigid. "You have the alarm clock in your possession?" asked Judge Markham.
"The sheriff has it," said John Lucas, speaking with an effort. "And, your Honor," the enraged prosecutor said, jumping to his feet, indignation giving him sudden loquacity, "you can see the manner in which this whole thing has been manipulated. We were trapped into breaking into the crossexamining of Mrs. Crandall, in order to be confronted with the surprise which counsel on the other side apparently anticipated. Now, with the witness confused by this spectacular development which I have had no chance to thoroughly investigate, she is rushed along in her crossexamination without the opportunity of conferring with counsel for the prosecution…"
Judge Markham's voice was stern as he said, "Counselor, your remarks are improper and are out of order. You will be seated." Judge Markham turned toward the jury with the admonition, "The jury is instructed to disregard the remarks of counsel," then, turning to the bailiff, "bring that alarm clock into court."
The bailiff stepped from the courtroom. There was a moment of silence, then the hissing sibilants of excited whispers, the sounds of rustling garments as people squirmed in an ecstasy of excitement. From the back of the courtroom came a sharp, hysterical giggle.
Judge Markham's gavel commanded silence.
There followed a period during which comparative silence was restored, but occasional whispers crept into the tense atmosphere, vague, indefinite sounds, impossible to locate, yet surreptitiously adding to the emotional tension.
The deputy sheriff brought an alarm clock into court. Perry Mason looked at the alarm clock, turned it over in his hands. "There's a label pasted on this clock, if the Court please," he said, "stating that it is the same clock which was taken from the apartment of Gregory Moxley on the morning of June sixteenth of this year."
Judge Markham nodded.
"I take it," said Perry Mason, "that I may use this in my crossexamination of the witness?"
"In view of the fact that it was produced by the prosecution, in response to an order of this Court directing the prosecution to place in your hands the identical alarm clock which was taken from that room," said Judge Markham, "you may use it. If the deputy district attorney has any objection he will make it now." John Lucas sat very straight and very erect at the table assigned to counsel for the prosecution. He made no sound, no motion. "Proceed," said Judge Markham.
Perry Mason, the alarm clock in his hands, approached the witness stand. "You will observe," he said, handing the alarm clock to Mrs. Crandall, "that the alarm is set for two o'clock. You will further notice that the clock has now stopped. It has, apparently, run down. I will also call to the attention of the Court and counsel that the alarm seems to be run down."
"It would," said John Lucas sarcastically, "naturally have run down. No one would have heard it ring in the sheriff's office at two o'clock in the morning."
"There need be no argument," said Judge Markham. "What is it you wish to do with the alarm clock, Counselor?"
"I wish to wind the alarm," said Perry Mason, "turn the hour and minute hands of the clock so that it may definitely be ascertained when the alarm was set. I want the witness to hear the sound of the alarm, and then she can testify whether that was the bell which she heard."
"Very well," said Judge Markham, "you will wind the alarm clock and set the hands under the supervision of the Court. Mr. Lucas, if you wish to step up to the bench while counsel is winding the clock you are invited to do so."
John Lucas sat rigid. "I refuse to have anything to do with this," he said. "It is irregular, a trick of counsel."
Judge Markham frowned at him. "Your remarks, Counselor," he observed ominously, "come very close to being contempt of court." He turned to Perry Mason. "Step up with the alarm clock, Counselor."
Perry Mason suddenly dominated the courtroom. Gone was all the indifference of his former manner. He was now the showman, putting on a headline act. He bowed to the judge, turned to smile at the jury, stepped up to the bench. He wound up the alarm, turned the hands of the clock slowly. When those hands registered two minutes before two, the alarm whirred into action.
Perry Mason set the clock on the judge's desk, turned and walked away, as though satisfied with what he had done. The alarm whirred for several seconds, then paused for an appreciable interval, then whirred again, paused and once more exploded into noise.
Perry Mason stepped forward and shut off the alarm, turned to Mrs. Crandall and smiled at her. "Now, Mrs. Crandall," he said, "since it appears that it couldn't have been the doorbell that you heard, since you are equally positive that it wasn't the telephone bell that you heard, don't you think that the bell you heard must have been that of the alarm clock?"
"Yes," she said dazedly, "I guess it must have been."
"Are you sure that it was?"
"Yes, it must have been."
"You're willing to swear that it was?"
"Yes."
"Now that you think it over, you're as certain of the fact that it must have been the bell of the alarm clock which you heard ringing, as you are of any other testimony you have given in this case?"
"Yes."
Judge Markham picked up the alarm clock, inspected it frowningly. He toyed with the key which wound the alarm, suddenly started drumming his fingers on the bench. He frowningly surveyed Perry Mason, then turned to regard the alarm clock with a scowl. Perry Mason bowed in the direction of John Lucas. "No further crossexamination," he said, and sat down.
"Redirect examination, Counselor?" asked Judge Markham of the deputy district attorney.
John Lucas got to his feet. "Are you now swearing positively," he shouted, "in contradiction of your previous testimony, that it was not a doorbell which you heard, but the bell of an alarm clock?"
Mrs. Crandall looked somewhat dazed at the savagery of his attack. Perry Mason's laugh was goodhumored, patronizing, insulting. "Why, your Honor," he said, "Counselor has forgotten himself. He is seeking to crossexamine his own witness. This is not my witness; this is a witness on behalf of the prosecution."
"The objection is sustained," said Judge Markham.
John Lucas took a deep breath, keeping control of himself with an effort. "It was this alarm clock which you heard?" he asked.
"Yes," said the witness with a sudden truculent emphasis.
John Lucas sat down abruptly. "That's all," he muttered.
"Your Honor," said Perry Mason, "may I recall Mr. Crandall for one question on further crossexamination?"
Judge Markham nodded. "Under the circumstances," he said, "the Court will permit it."
The tense, dramatic silence of the courtroom was so impressive that the pound of Benjamin Crandall's feet as he walked up the aisle to the witness stand sounded as audible as the pulsations of some drum of doom. Crandall resumed the witness stand. "You have heard your wife's testimony?" asked Perry Mason.
"Yes, sir."
"You have heard the alarm clock!"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you," said Perry Mason, "desire to contradict your wife's testimony that it was the alarm clock she heard, or…"
John Lucas jumped to his feet. "Objected to!" he said. "Argumentative. That's not proper crossexamination and counsel knows it."
Judge Markham nodded. "The objection," he said, in tones of grim severity, "is sustained. Counsel will keep his examination within the legitimate province of orderly questions. Counsel must well realize the impropriety of such a question."
Perry Mason accepted the rebuke meekly, but withal, smilingly. "Yes, your Honor," he said quietly, and turned to the witness. "Now, I'll put it this way, Mr. Crandall," he said. "It now appears from the physical facts of the case that you couldn't have heard a doorbell, and, inasmuch as you have stated positively that it wasn't a telephone bell which you heard, don't you think it must have been this alarm clock which you heard?"
The witness took a deep breath. His eyes moved around the courtroom, locked with the steady eyes of his wife, who sat in an aisle seat. John Lucas made an objection in a voice which quivered so that it almost broke. "Your Honor," he said, "that question is argumentative. Counsel is carefully making an argument to this man, and incorporating that argument as a part of his question. He keeps dangling the wife's testimony in front of the husband. It's not the way to crossexamine this witness. Why doesn't he come out and ask him fairly and frankly, without all these preliminaries, whether he heard a doorbell or whether he didn't hear a doorbell."
"I think, your Honor," Perry Mason insisted, "that this is legitimate crossexamination."
Before Judge Markham could rule on the point, the witness blurted a reply. "If you fellows think I'm going to contradict my wife," he said, "you're crazy!"
The courtroom broke into a roar of spontaneous laughter, which Judge Markham could not silence, despite the pounding of his gavel. After the tense drama of the previous situation, the spectators welcomed a chance to find some relief from the emotional tension. When some semblance of order had been restored by Judge Markham's threat to clear the courtroom if there were any further demonstrations, John Lucas said in a voice that was like the complaint of a wronged child to its mother, "That's just the point that Mason was trying to drill into the mind of this witness. He was trying to make him realize the position he'd put his wife in if he didn't testify the way Mason wanted him to."
"Well," said Judge Markham, with a smile twisting the corners of his mouth, despite himself, "whether that may or may not have been the case, it now is apparent that the point has at least occurred to the mind of the witness. However, I will sustain the objection. Counsel will ask questions which are free from argumentative matter."
Perry Mason bowed. "Was it a doorbell that you heard," he asked, "or was it an alarm clock?"
"It was an alarm clock," said Crandall, without hesitation.
Perry Mason sat down. "That's all the crossexamination," he said.
"Redirect examination?" asked Judge Markham.
Lucas walked toward the witness, holding the alarm clock in his left hand, shaking it violently until the sound of metal tinkling against metal was audible throughout the courtroom. "Are you going to tell this jury," he said, "that it was this alarm clock that you heard?"
"If that's the alarm clock that was in the room," said the witness slowly, "that was the one I heard."
"And it wasn't a doorbell at all?"
"It couldn't have been."
Lucas looked at the witness with exasperation on his face. "That's all," he said.
Crandall left the stand. Lucas, holding the alarm clock in his hand, turned and walked toward the counsel table. Midway to the table he paused as though he had suddenly been struck with some idea. He raised the alarm clock, stood staring at it, then whirled to face Judge Markham. Indignant words poured from his lips.
"Your Honor," he said, "the object of this examination is apparent. If this alarm was set for five minutes before two, and the alarm was ringing at the very moment when Gregory Moxley was murdered, the defendant, Rhoda Montaine, can't possibly have been the one who was guilty of that murder, because the testimony of the prosecution's own witnesses shows that she was not at the scene of the murder at that time, but until some ten minutes after two o'clock, on the morning when the murder was committed, was in a service station where she was under the eyes of an attendant who has carefully checked the time.
"Now, your Honor, in view of that fact, it appears that the most important part of this whole situation hinges upon the question of whether the alarm on this clock had been shut off, or allowed to run down. Now I notice that counsel for the defense took that clock from the hands of the deputy sheriff. I notice that he said that the alarm was run down, but there's no proof that it was run down. It would have been an exceedingly simple matter for counsel to have manipulated that lever while he was winding the alarm clock and turning the hands. I, therefore, suggest that all of this evidence be stricken out."
The Court motioned Perry Mason to silence, stared steadily at John Lucas.
"You can't strike out that evidence," he said, "because the witnesses have now testified positively that it was the alarm clock that they heard. Regardless of the means by which they were induced to make such a statement, they have made it, and the testimony must stand. However, the Court desires to state, Mr. Lucas, that if counsel had desired to safeguard the interests of the People against any such manipulation of the alarm clock, counsel was afforded that privilege. The Court specifically invited counsel to step up to the bench and watch counsel for the defense while he was winding and setting the clock. As I remember the situation, your attitude was that of a sulky child. You sat at the counsel table sullen and sulking, and refused to participate in the safeguards which were offered you by the Court. The Court is administering this rebuke in the presence of the jury, because your accusation of misconduct on the part of counsel for the defense was made in the presence of the jury. The jury are instructed to disregard the comments of both Court and counsel, so far as having any probative weight in this case is concerned. The means by which a witness is induced to make a statement are controlled by the Court. The effect of the statements made by witnesses are for the jurors."
John Lucas stood, face white, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Your Honor," he said in a voice which was barely audible, "this case has taken an unexpected turn. I, perhaps, deserve the rebuke of the Court. May I ask, however, that a continuance be granted until tomorrow morning?"
Judge Markham hesitated, glanced dubiously at Perry Mason, and asked, "Is there any objection on the part of the defense?"
Perry Mason was smilingly urbane. "So far as the defense is concerned, there is no objection whatever. As counsel for the prosecution remarked, earlier in the case, the prosecution desired that the defense have every opportunity to present its case. Now it gives counsel for the defense equal pleasure to assert to the Court that it desires the prosecution to have every opportunity to try and make out a case against this defendant—if it can."
Judge Markham placed a hand to his lips, in order that the jury might not see any possible quivering at the corners of his mouth. "Very well," he said. "Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. During the interim, the jury will remember the admonition of the Court, and not discuss the case, or permit it to be discussed in their presence, nor form or express any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant."
And with that, Judge Markham whirled about in his chair, and strode to his chambers, his robes fluttering behind him. But there were those among the spectators who caught a glimpse of the judicial profile just as it turned into chambers, who subsequently swore, with great glee, that the judge wore a very human grin which stretched from ear to ear.