The Case of the Green-Eyed Sister
Page 18
“My eyes are very good. Yes, sir.”
“Do you wear glasses?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you ever wear glasses?”
“Sometimes for reading, yes.”
“Do you wear them always for reading?”
“Well, yes.”
“You can see without your glasses?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you can’t read without them?”
“No, sir.”
“You have to wear glasses for reading?”
“It’s necessary, yes, sir. I told you that,” she snapped angrily.
“And you’re not wearing glasses now?”
“No, sir.”
“And you were quite able to identify the defendant when she stood up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was that the first time you had seen the defendant after the seventh of the month?”
“No, sir.”
“You had seen her at the jail?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In a line-up?”
“No, sir.”
“She was by herself?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She was pointed out to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“By whom?”
“By Sergeant Holcomb.”
“And what did Sergeant Holcomb say to you at that time?”
“Oh, if the Court please, I object to this as not proper cross-examination, as being hearsay evidence,” Moon said.
“Sustained,” Judge Kaylor said.
“Did someone point out the defendant to you at that time?”
“I pointed out the defendant.”
“You said that that person was the defendant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But who first directed your attention to the defendant?”
“Well, of course, the police wanted to know if I could identify her. They took me to the jail to see if I could.”
There was a slight titter in the courtroom.
“Then the police first pointed the defendant out to you and then you pointed the defendant out to the police?”
“Well, I agreed she was the person I had seen.”
“That was the only person they showed you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you were advised at that time, were you not, that that person was Harriet Bain, who had been arrested for the murder of J. J. Fritch?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now then,” Mason said, “since you have to wear glasses to read how did it happen that you were able to identify the photograph of J. J. Fritch while you were not wearing your glasses?”
“I—I could see it.”
“Could you see it well enough to identify it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mason picked up a law book from the desk, took it up and handed it to her, said, “Just go ahead and read one paragraph, any paragraph, from this page. Read it without your glasses.”
She squinted her eyes, held the book far out in front of her, then brought it closer, then back out in front of her again.
“I can’t read it,” she said. “I can’t see it well enough to read it clearly.”
“And you couldn’t see the photograph any more clearly?”
“I knew whose photograph it was,” she replied triumphantly.
“How did you know?”
“The deputy district attorney, Mr. Moon, told me that the photograph he handed me was that of Mr. J. J. Fritch,” she said righteously.
“Thank you,” Mason said, smiling. “That is all.”
Moon, plainly angry, shouted at the witness, “Well, despite the fact you didn’t have your glasses on you could see the photograph well enough to know it was the photograph of the man you knew as Frank Reedy, couldn’t you?”
“That’s objected to,” Mason said, “as leading and suggestive.”
“This is redirect examination, Your Honor,” Moon said.
“It doesn’t make any difference what it is,” Mason said. “You can’t put words in the mouth of your own witness.”
“I think you’d better reframe the question,” Judge Kaylor said.
“But, of course, Your Honor, in redirect examination it becomes necessary to direct the attention of the witness to the particular part of the testimony brought out on cross-examination that you wish to refute.”
“Just ask her the question,” Mason said, “but don’t put the words in her mouth.”
Moon said, “I’m not taking my ruling from you.”
“Apparently you’re not taking it from the Court either,” Mason told him. “The Court has already ruled.”
Judge Kaylor said, “Come, come, gentlemen, let’s have no personalities. The Court ruled that the objection was well taken. Reframe your question, Mr. Deputy District Attorney.”
“You saw that photograph?” Moon asked the witness.
“Yes, sir.”
“And recognized it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s all.”
“Just a moment,” Mason said. “How did you recognize it?”
“Well, I could see that it was a photograph.”
“Could you distinguish the features any plainer than you could read the printing in that book I just handed you?”
“Well, I knew it was the photograph because Mr. Moon had told me it was the photograph I’d be called on to identify.”
“And you were willing to take his word for it?” Mason said.
“Certainly.”
“And similarly,” Mason said, “when the officers pointed out the defendant in this case to you and told you that she was the person whom you had seen there in the hallway you were willing to take their word for it, weren’t you?”
“Well, it isn’t the same situation. I’m certain about her.”
“Then you weren’t certain about the man in the photograph?”
“I could have been dubious. I was taking Mr. Moon’s word for it. He’d shown me the same photograph twice before and I’d identified it.”
Mason smiled. “How do you know it was the same photograph?”
She snapped angrily, “I guess the word of a district attorney is good enough for me!”
“And, by the same token, so is the word of a sergeant of police?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all,” Moon said irritably. “We’ll get this matter disposed of right now. Call Frank Haswell.”
Frank Haswell, a tall, thin individual, with a lazy, good-natured manner, settled himself on the witness stand as though he intended to remain for some time and wanted to be comfortable.
Preliminary questions showed that he was a fingerprint expert, that he had been called on to dust the apartment occupied by George Brogan for latent fingerprints, and that he had made an extensive search of the apartment looking for fingerprints. He had found and photographed a large number.
Moon once more stood up in order to attract the attention of the audience, unmistakably posing, unmistakably rather proud of his own personal appearance, tall, broad-shouldered, slim-waisted, with a wealth of wavy hair sweeping back from his forehead.
“Then, Mr. Haswell,” he said, “were you able to identify any of these latent fingerprints that you took?”
“Yes, sir. I was.”
“Did you find the fingerprints of any person who is now in this courtroom?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Whose?”
Haswell said, “I found the fingerprints of Perry Mason.”
Laughter rocked the courtroom despite the attempt of the bailiff to secure order. Even Judge Kaylor permitted himself a smile.
“Where did you find those fingerprints?”
“In three places.”
“Where?”
“On the underside of a table in the living room, on the blade of a knife in the kitchen, and on the back of a magnetic knife-holder over the kitchen sink.”
“How did you iden
tify those fingerprints?”
“Mr. Mason had previously given a set of prints to the department in connection with another homicide case.”
“What other fingerprints did you find?”
“I found the prints of Harriet Bain.”
“The defendant in this case?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did you check those fingerprints?”
“By making a direct comparison with original fingerprints from her fingers.”
“Where did you find her fingerprints?”
“I could best illustrate that by identifying a photograph of the living room and a photograph of the room where the body was discovered. There are certain places marked on that photograph. Little white circles. Those represent the approximate location of the places where I found the fingerprints of the defendant.”
“We would like to offer that photograph in evidence. I will show it to Counsel and—”
“There’s no need,” Mason said. “I’m only too glad to stipulate that this photograph may be received in evidence.”
“Cross-examine,” Moon snapped.
“You only found three of my fingerprints?” Mason asked incredulously.
“Yes, sir.”
“Why didn’t you find more? I was in that apartment for some time.”
“Well, of course, Mr. Mason, finding a latent fingerprint is something like finding game in the woods. There may be lots of game but it may be rather difficult to find. It is necessary that the fingerprint be placed on a surface that will retain the latent impression and it must be developed within a certain limit of time.”
“What limit?”
“Well, there, of course,” the witness said, “you get into a factor which is governed by a lot of variables. It depends on weather conditions, upon the degree of humidity, the nature of the substance on which the latent fingerprint is impressed. I would say in this case, Mr. Mason, that I could assume that the fingerprints I found were made within a period of seventy-two hours.”
“More than that?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Mason. I am, of course, making an estimate, but under the circumstances I would say within a period of seventy-two hours.”
“So that your examination indicated that the defendant had been in that apartment some time within seventy-two hours prior to the time your search was made?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That I had been there within seventy-two hours prior to the time your search was made?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you find fingerprints of Sylvia Atwood, the defendant’s sister?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So that she had been in the apartment some time within seventy-two hours prior to the time the fingerprints were developed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you find fingerprints of the decedent, J. J. Fritch?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Many of them?”
“Quite a few.”
“So he had been in the apartment within seventy-two hours of the time of your examination?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did you find fingerprints of George Brogan?”
“Naturally.”
“So he had been in the apartment within seventy-two hours of the time the search was made?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now then,” Mason said, “will you kindly tell us whether you found the fingerprints of Sergeant Holcomb of the Homicide Squad in that apartment?”
Haswell grinned. “As it happened,” he said, “I did.”
“So Sergeant Holcomb had been in that apartment within seventy-two hours of the time your search was made?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now then,” Mason said, “can you kindly tell us whether there was anything in your examination that indicated whether Sergeant Holcomb had been in that apartment before the murder was committed?”
“No, sir. I only know I found his fingerprints.”
“Do you know whether the defendant was in that apartment prior to the time the murder was committed?”
“No, sir. I only know that I found her fingerprints.”
“Do you know that I was in the apartment prior to the time the murder was committed?”
“I only know that I found your fingerprints.”
“So as far as your testimony is concerned,” Mason said, “and let’s be perfectly fair about this, I am talking now only about your testimony, there is no more reason to think that the defendant in this case committed the murder than that I committed the murder or that Sergeant Holcomb committed the murder?”
“Well, of course,” the witness said, “I can’t—”
“Oh, I’m going to object to that question as argumentative,” Moon said. “Not proper cross-examination.”
“Well, of course,” the Court observed, “it is somewhat argumentative. However, Counsel is merely trying to point out the application of the time element. I think I will permit it.”
“What’s your answer?” Mason asked.
“The answer is no,” the witness said. “I can’t tell when those prints were made. I only know that within some time during which those prints could be preserved the defendant had been in that apartment.”
“And that I had been in that apartment?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that Sergeant Holcomb had been in that apartment?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And as far as anything your investigations disclosed there’s just as much reason to believe that Sergeant Holcomb had been in that apartment and committed that murder as there is to believe that the defendant had been in that apartment and committed that murder?”
“Well, of course,” the witness said, “I know that Sergeant Holcomb was in the apartment after the murder was committed.”
“Do you know whether he was in the apartment before the murder was committed?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know whether the defendant was in that apartment after the murder was committed?”
“I understand that—well, now, wait a minute, if I have to answer that question fairly I will have to answer that I do not.”
“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all.”
Moon hesitated as though debating whether to ask another question, then decided against it and said, “That’s all.”
“Now then, Your Honor,” Moon said, “I wish to call George Brogan once more, this time to direct his testimony to an entirely different phase of the case. This, if the Court please, is laying the foundation for the introduction in evidence of the spool of tape recording which has been the subject of previous examination and which spool was found by the police under a search warrant.”
Brogan once more took the stand. His manner indicated that he knew he was facing an ordeal which was far from welcome.
“Now, Mr. Brogan,” Moon said, “I am going to ask you if prior to the seventh of this month you had had occasion to converse with Perry Mason?”
“I had. Yes, sir.”
“And where did that conversation take place?”
“In my apartment.”
“And did that conversation have something to do with any of the Bain family?”
“It did. Yes, sir. It affected property rights, which, in turn, were important to each member of the family, that is, potentially important.”
“And did those conversations have to do with the activities of Mr. J. J. Fritch, the man who was murdered?”
“They did. Yes, sir.”
“Can you describe them generally? You don’t need to go into detail, but tell what was the general nature of the conversation and the negotiations.”
Brogan took a long breath, shifted his position once more, hesitated, seeking to choose his words.
Judge Kaylor glanced at Mason, then turned to Moon. “Isn’t this somewhat remote?”
“No, Your Honor. It proves motive and it is laying the foundation for the introduction of this evidence which was
discussed earlier, a spool of recorded tape, which the police found in the possession of Mr. Perry Mason.”
“Is there any objection?” Judge Kaylor asked, glancing at Mason, who sat completely relaxed, sliding his thumb and forefinger up and down the polished sides of a pencil.
“None whatever,” Mason said, smiling affably.
“Very well, go ahead,” Judge Kaylor said. “I would suggest, however, that we be as brief as possible. I think that if Counsel wishes to prove motivation this witness can testify generally to the facts in connection with the business negotiations and not go into a lot of detail.”
“You have heard what the Court said,” Moon said to the witness. “Just be brief. Tell us generally what this discussion was about.”
Brogan said, “I happened to find out that Mr. Fritch was involved in a matter which he had effectively concealed for many years. He claimed that there had been some connection between him and Ned Bain, the father of the defendant. If that connection had been established it might well have resulted in a great property loss so far as the Bain family was concerned.”
“So what did you do?”
“I felt that I might be able to be of some value and offered my services to the Bains.”
“All of the Bains?”
“No, a representative of the Bain family.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Sylvia Atwood.”
“By Mrs. Atwood you are referring to the sister of the defendant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what happened?”
“Mrs. Atwood retained Mr. Mason. Mr. Mason called on me and I tried to make my position clear, that I was under the circumstances in a position to act somewhat in the nature of intermediary, but that if I were to do so I wanted it definitely understood that I was representing the Bain family and no one else, that under no circumstances did I wish to affiliate myself with Mr. Fritch.”
“May I ask why you adopted that attitude?”
“For ethical reasons. It was a matter of business ethics.”
“Was there perhaps something unethical about Mr. Fritch’s approach?”
“I felt there was.”
“What did you feel was unethical about it?”
“Frankly, I felt it was plain blackmail.”
“And you didn’t wish any part of that?”
“Definitely not.”
“But you did approach Mrs. Atwood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And she in turn retained Mr. Mason?”