“Did you know that those diamonds were in your office?”
“No, sir.”
“Where were you on the morning of the sixth of June?
I’ll put it this way, where were you from 2:00 A.M. on the sixth of June to noon of that day?”
“During the times mentioned I was in my apartment, sleeping, until a little after seven. Then I had breakfast with my associate, Walter Irving. After breakfast we went to the office.”
“Cross-examine,” Mason snapped viciously at Hamilton Burger.
Hamilton Burger said, “I will be very brief. I have only a couple of questions, Mr. Jefferson. Have you ever been convicted of a felony?”
“I—” Suddenly Jefferson seemed to collapse in the witness chair.
“Have you?” Hamilton Burger thundered.
“I made one mistake in my life,” Jefferson said. “I have tried to live it down. I thought I had.”
“Did you, indeed?” Hamilton Burger said scornfully. “Where were you convicted, Mr. Jefferson?”
“In New York.”
“You served time in Sing Sing?”
“Yes.”
“Under the name of Duane Jefferson?”
“No, sir.”
“Under what name?”
“Under the name of James Kincaid.”
“Exactly,” Hamiltion Burger said. “You were convicted of larceny by trick and device.”
“Yes.”
“You posed as an English heir, did you not? And you told—”
“Objected to,” Mason said. “Counsel has no right to amplify the admission.”
“Sustained.”
“Were you, at one time, known as ‘Gentleman Jim,’ a nickname of the underworld?”
“Objected to,” Mason said.
“Sustained.”
Hamilton Burger said scornfully, “I will ask no further questions.”
As one in a daze, the defendant stumbled from the stand.
Mason said, his lips a hard, white line, “Mr. Walter Irving take the stand.”
The bailiff called, “Walter Irving.”
When there was no response, the call was taken up in the corridors.
Paul Drake came forward, beckoned to Mason. “He’s skipped, Perry. He was sitting near the door. He took it on the lam the minute Burger asked Jefferson about his record. Good Lord! What a mess! What a lousy mess!”
Judge Hartley said not unkindly, “Mr. Irving doesn’t seem to be present, Mr. Mason. Was he under subpoena?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Do you wish the Court to issue a bench warrant?”
“No, Your Honor,” Mason said. “Perhaps Mr. Irving had his reasons for leaving.”
“I daresay he did,” Hamilton Burger said sarcastically.
“That’s the defendant’s case,” Mason said. “We rest.”
It was impossible for Hamilton Burger to keep the gloating triumph out of his voice. “I will,” he said, “call only three witnesses on rebuttal. The first is Mrs. Agnes Elmer.”
Mrs. Agnes Elmer gave her name and address. She was, she explained, the manager of the apartment house where the defendant, Duane Jefferson, had rented an apartment shortly after his arrival in the city.
“Directing your attention to the early morning of June sixth,” Hamilton Burger said, “do you know whether Duane Jefferson was in his apartment?”
“I do.”
“Was he in that apartment?”
“He was not.”
“Was his bed slept in that night?”
“It was not.”
“Cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.
Mason, recognizing that the short, direct examination was intended to bait a trap into which he must walk on cross-examination, flexed his arms slowly, as though stretching with weariness, said, “How do you fix the date, Mrs. Elmer?”
“A party rang up shortly before midnight on the fifth,” Mrs. Elmer said. “It was a woman’s voice. She told me it was absolutely imperative that she get in touch with Mr. Jefferson. She said Mr. Jefferson had got her in—”
“Just a minute,” Mason interrupted. “I object, Your Honor, to this witness relating any conversations which occurred outside of the presence of the the defendant.”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said. “This is plainly admissible. Counsel asked this question himself. He asked her how she fixed the date. She’s telling him.”
Judge Hartley said, “There may be some technical merit to your contention, Mr. District Attorney, but this is a court of justice, not a place for a legal sparring match. The whole nature of your examination shows you had carefully baited this as a trap for the cross-examiner. I’m going to sustain the objection. You can make your own case by your own witness.
“Now, the Court is going to ask the witness if there is any other way you can fix the date, any way, that is, depending on your own actions.”
“Well,” the witness said, “I know it was the sixth because that was the day I went to the dentist. I had a terrific toothache that night and couldn’t sleep.”
“And how do you fix the date that you went to the dentist?” Mason asked.
“From the dentist’s appointment book.”
“So you don’t know of your own knowledge what date you went to the dentist, only the date that is shown in the dentist’s book?”
“That’s right.”
“And the entry of that date in the dentist’s book was not made in your own handwriting. In other words, you have used a conversation with the dentist to refresh your memory.”
“Well, I asked him what date I came in, and he consulted his records and told me.”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “But you don’t know of your own knowledge how he kept his records.”
“Well, he’s supposed to keep them—”
Mason smiled. “But you have no independent recollection of anything except that it was the night that you had the toothache, is that right?”
“Well, if you’d had that toothache—”
“I’m asking you if that’s the only way you can fix the date, that it was the night you had the toothache?”
“Yes.”
“And then, at the request of the district attorney, you tried to verify the date?”
“Yes.”
“When did the district attorney request that you do that?”
“I don’t know. It was late in the month sometime.”
“And did you go to the dentist’s office, or did you telephone him?”
“I telephoned him.”
“And asked him the date when you had your appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Aside from that, you wouldn’t have been able to tell whether it had been the sixth, the seventh, or the eighth?”
“I suppose not.”
“So you have refreshed your recollection by taking the word of someone else. In other words, the testimony you are now giving as to the date is purely hearsay evidence?”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “I think this witness has the right to refresh her recollection by—”
Judge Hartley shook his head. “The witness has testified that she can’t remember the date except by fixing it in connection with other circumstances, and those other circumstances which she is using to refresh her recollection depend upon the unsworn testimony of another. Quite plainly hearsay testimony, Mr. District Attorney.”
Hamilton Burger bowed. “Very well, Your Honor.”
“That’s all,” Mason said.
“Call Josephine Carter,” Burger said.
Josephine Carter was sworn, testified she was a switchboard operator at the apartment house where the defendant had his apartment, that she worked from 10:00 P.M. on the night of the fifth of June until 6:00 A.M. on the morning of June sixth.
“Did you ring the defendant’s phone that night?”
“Yes”
“When?”
“Shortly before midnight. I was told it was an eme
rgency and I—”
“Never mind what you were told. What did you do?” “I rang the phone.”
“Did you get an answer?”
“No. The party who was calling left a message and asked me to keep calling to see that Mr. Jefferson got that message as soon as he came in.”
“How often did you continue to ring?”
“Every hour.”
“Until when?”
“When I went off duty at six in the morning.”
“Did you ever get an answer?”
“No.”
“From your desk at the switchboard can you watch the corridor to the elevator, and did you thereafter watch to see if the defendant came in?”
“Yes. I kept watch so as to call to him when he came in.”
“He didn’t come in while you were on duty?” “No.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive.”
“Cross-examine,” Burger snapped at Mason.
“How did you know the phone was ringing?” Mason asked smilingly.
“Why I depressed the key.”
“Phones get out of order occasionally?”
“Yes.”
“Is there any check signal on the board by which you can tell if the phone is ringing?”
“You get a peculiar sound when the phone rings, sort of a hum.”
“And if the phone doesn’t ring, do you get that hum?”
“I … we haven’t been troubled that way.”
“Do you know of your own knowledge that you fail to get that hum when the phone is not ringing?”
“That’s the way the board is supposed to work.”
“I’m asking you if you know of your own knowledge?”
“Well, Mr. Mason, I have never been in an apartment where the phone was not ringing and at the same time been downstairs at the switchboard trying to ring that telephone.”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “That’s the point I was trying to make, Miss Carter. That’s all.”
“Just a moment,” Hamilton Burger said. “I have one question on redirect. Did you keep an eye on the persons who went in and out, to see if Mr. Jefferson came in?”
“I did.”
“Is your desk so located that you could have seen him when he came in?”
“Yes. Everyone who enters the apartment has to walk down a corridor, and I can see through a glass door into that corridor.”
“That’s all,” Burger said, smiling.
“I have one or two questions on recross-examination,” Mason said. “I’ll only bother you for a moment, Miss Carter. You have now stated that you kept looking up whenever anyone came in, to see if the defendant came in.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you could have seen him if he had come in?”
“Yes, sir. Very easily. From my station at the switchboard I can watch people who come down the corridor.”
“So you want the Court and the jury to understand that you are certain the defendant didn’t come in during the time you were on duty?”
“Well, he didn’t come in from the time I first rang his telephone until I quit ringing it at six o’clock, when I went off duty.”
“And what time did you first ring his telephone?”
“It was before midnight, perhaps eleven o’clock, perhaps a little after eleven.”
“And then what?”
“Then I rang two or three times between the time of the first call and one o’clock, and then after 1:00 A.M. I made it a point to ring every hour on the hour.”
“Just short rings or—”
“No, I rang several long rings each time.”
“And after your first ring around midnight you were satisfied the defendant was not in his apartment?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And because you were watching the corridor you were satisfied that he couldn’t have entered the house and gone to his apartment without your seeing him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why,” Mason asked, “if you knew he wasn’t in his apartment and knew that he hadn’t come in, did you keep on ringing the telephone at hourly intervals?”
The witness looked at Mason, started to say something, stopped, blinked her eyes, said, “Why, I … I … I don’t know. I just did it.”
“In other words,” Mason said, “you thought there was a possibility he might have come in without your seeing him?”
“Well, of course, that could have happened.”
“Then when you just now told the district attorney that it would have been impossible for the defendant to have come in without your seeing him, you were mistaken?”
“I … well, I … I had talked it over with the district attorney and … well, I thought that’s what I was supposed to say.”
“Exactly,” Mason said, smiling. “Thank you.”
Josephine Carter looked at Hamilton Burger to see if there were any more questions, but Hamilton Burger was making a great show of pawing through some papers. “That’s all,” he snapped gruffly.
Josephine Carter left the witness stand.
“I will now call Ruth Dickey,” Hamilton Burger said.
Ruth Dickey came forward, was sworn, and testified that she was and had been on the fourteenth of June an elevator operator in the building where the South African Gem Importing and Exploration Company had its offices.
“Did you see Duane Jefferson, the defendant in this case, on the fourteenth of June a little after noon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“Well, he and Mr. Irving, his associate, rode down in the elevator with me about ten minutes past twelve. The defendant said he was going to lunch.”
“When did they come back?”
“They came back about five minutes to one and rode up in the elevator with me.”
“Did anything unusual happen on that day?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What?”
“The manager of the building and one of the stenographers got into the elevator with me, and the manager asked me to run right down to the street floor because it was an emergency.”
“Was this before or after the defendant and Irving had gone up with you?”
“After.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“About how long after?”
“At least five minutes.”
“How well do you know the defendant?” Hamilton Burger asked.
“I have talked with him off and on.”
“Have you ever been out with him socially?”
She lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
“Now, did the defendant make any statements to you with reference to his relationship with Ann Riddle, the young woman who operates the cigar stand?”
“Yes. He said that he and his partner had set her up in business, that she was a lookout for them, but that no one else knew the connection. He said if I’d be nice to him, he could do something for me, too.”
“You may cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.
“You have had other young men take you out from time to time?” Mason asked.
“Well, yes.”
“And quite frequently you have had them make rather wild promises about what they could do about setting you up in business if you would only be nice to them?”
She laughed. “I’ll say,” she said. “You’d be surprised about what some of them say.”
“I dare say I would,” Mason said. “That’s all. Thank you, Miss Dickey.”
“That’s all our rebuttal,” Hamilton Burger said.
Judge Hartley’s voice was sympathetic. “I know that it is customary to have a recess before arguments start, but I would like very much to get this case finished today. I think that we can at least start the argument, unless there is some reason for making a motion for a continuance.”
Mason, tight-lipped, shook his head. “Let’s go ahead with it,” he said.
“Very well, Mr. District Attorney, you m
ay make your opening argument.”
Chapter 18
Hamilton Burger’s argument to the jury was relatively short. It was completed within an hour after court reconvened following the noon recess. It was a masterpiece of forensic eloquence, of savage triumph, of a bitter, vindictive attack on the defendant and by implication on his attorney.
Mason’s argument, which followed, stressed the point that while perjurers and waterfront scum had made an attack on his client, no one had yet shown that Munroe Baxter was murdered. Munroe Baxter, Mason insisted, could show up alive and well at any time, without having contradicted the testimony of any witness.
Hamilton Burger’s closing argument was directed to the fact that the Court would instruct the jury that corpus delicti could be shown by circumstantial evidence, as well as by direct evidence. It was an argument which took only fifteen minutes.
The Court read instructions to the jurors, who retired to the jury room for their deliberations.
Mason, in the courtroom, his face a cold, hard mask, thoughtfully paced the floor.
Della Street, sitting at the counsel table, gave him her silent sympathy. Paul Drake, who had for once been too depressed even to try to eat, sat with his head in his hands.
Mason glanced at the clock, sighed wearily, ceased his pacing and dropped into a chair.
“Any chance, Perry?” Paul Drake asked.
Mason shook his head. “Not with the evidence in this shape. My client is a dead duck. Any luck with this car rental?”
“No luck at all, Perry. We’ve covered every car rental agency here and in outlying towns where they have branches.”
Mason was thoughtful for a moment. “What about Walter Irving?”
“Irving has flown the coop,” Drake said. “He left the courtroom, climbed into a taxicab and vanished. This time my men knew what he was going to try to do, and they were harder to shake. But within an hour he had had ditched the shadows. It was a hectic hour.”
“How did he do it?”
“It was very simple,” Drake said. “Evidently it was part of a prearranged scheme. He had chartered a helicopter that was waiting for him at one of the outlying airports. He drove out there, got in the helicopter and took off.”
“Can’t you find out what happened? Don’t they have to file some sort of a flight plan or—”
“Oh, we know what happened well enough,” Drake said. “He chartered the helicopter to take him to the International Airport. Halfway there, he changed his mind and talked the helicopter into landing at the Santa Monica Airport. A rented car was waiting there.”
The Case of the Terrified Typist Page 16
