"I am going to sustain the objection," he said.
Perry Mason reached for the letter which had been identified as being in the handwriting of Mrs. Cartright, placed it on the table in front of the witness, and pounded it with his fist.
"Didn't you write that letter?" he asked of the witness.
"No!" she flared.
"Isn't it your handwriting?"
"You know that it is not," she said. "The handwriting doesn't resemble mine in the least."
"On the 17th day of October," said Perry Mason, "your right hand was in a bandage, was it not?"
"Yes."
"You had been bitten by a dog."
"Yes. Prince had been poisoned, and when I tried to give him an emetic he accidentally bit my hand."
"Yes," said Perry Mason. "But the fact remains that your right hand was bandaged on the 17th day of October of this year, and remained bandaged for several days thereafter, isn't that right?"
"Yes."
"And you couldn't hold a pen in that hand?"
There was a moment of silence, then the witness said suddenly: "Yes. And that goes to show how false your accusation is that I wrote that letter or that telegram. My hand was crippled so that I couldn't possibly have held a pen in it."
"Were you," snapped Perry Mason, "in Midwick on the 17th day of October of this year?"
The witness hesitated.
"Didn't you," went on Perry Mason without waiting for an answer, "charter an airplane and fly to Midwick on the 17th day of October of this year?"
"Yes," said the witness, "I thought I might find Mrs. Cartright in Midwick, and I went there by plane."
"And didn't you file this telegram at the telegraph office in Midwick while you were there?" asked Perry Mason.
"No," she said, "I have told you that I couldn't have written that telegram."
"Very well," said Perry Mason, "let's go back a moment to this mangled hand of yours. It was so badly mangled you couldn't possibly hold a pen in your right hand?"
"Yes."
"And that was on the 17th day of October of this year?"
"Yes."
"Also on the 18th day of October?"
"Yes."
"Also on the 19th?"
"Yes."
"Very well," said Perry Mason, "isn't it a fact that you kept a diary over the period I have mentioned?"
"Yes," she said swiftly, before she thought, then suddenly caught her breath, bit her lip and said, "No."
"Which is it," said Perry Mason, "yes or no?"
"No," she said.
Perry Mason whipped a torn sheet of paper from his pocket.
"As a matter of fact," he said, "isn't that a sheet of paper which came from a diary which you kept on or about that date - to wit, the 19th of October of this year?"
The witness stared at the torn piece of paper, said nothing.
"And isn't it," said Perry Mason, "a fact that you are ambidextrous; that you were keeping the diary during that time, and that you made entries in it with a pen that was held in your left hand? Isn't it a fact that you have always been able to write with your left hand, and that you do so whenever you wish to disguise your writing? Isn't it a fact that you have in your possession such a diary, from which this is a torn leaf, and that the handwriting on this torn leaf is exactly identical with the handwriting shown on the letter purported to have been written by Paula Cartright, and on the telegram purported to have been filed by her?"
The witness rose to her feet, looked at Judge Markham with glassy eyes, stared at the jury, then parted her white lips and screamed.
Bedlam broke loose in the courtroom. Bailiffs pounded for order. Deputies ran toward the witness.
Claude Drumm was on his feet, frantically shouting a motion for adjournment which was lost in the turmoil of noise.
Perry Mason walked back to the counsel table and sat down.
Deputies reached the side of Thelma Benton. They took her elbows and started to pilot her from the witness stand. She abruptly pitched forward in a dead faint.
The voice of Claude Drumm made itself audible above the confused roar of the courtroom.
"Your Honor," he shouted, "in the name of common decency, in the name of humanity, I demand a continuation of this case, in order to enable this witness to regain some measure of composure and health, before there is any further cross-examination. It is apparent, regardless of the cause, that she is a very sick woman. To continue with such a merciless cross-examination at this time is lacking in decency and humanity!"
Judge Markham slitted his eyes in thought, glanced over at Perry Mason.
Perry Mason's voice was low and calm, and the hub-bub in the courtroom quieted so that spectators might hear him.
"May I ask counsel if that is the only reason he is asking for a continuance?" said Perry Mason.
"Certainly," said Claude Drumm.
"May I also ask counsel," said Perry Mason, "in view of the request for a continuance, if he has any other witnesses, or if this is his last witness?"
"This," said Claude Drumm, "is my last witness. I grant counsel the right to cross examine her. The district attorney's office joins with counsel in a desire to find out the true facts of this case.
"But I cannot consent to the continuation of a cross-examination of a woman who is manifestly suffering from such a terrific nerve strain."
"I think, Counselor," said Judge Markham, "that the motion at this time is well taken, at least for a short continuance."
Perry Mason's smile was urbane.
"Your Honor," he said, "the motion for a continuance is no longer necessary. It gives me pleasure to announce that in view of the mental state of the witness, and my desire to complete the case, I am finished with my cross-examination."
He sat down.
Claude Drumm stood by his chair at the counsel table, staring incredulously at Perry Mason.
"You're finished?" he asked.
"Yes," said Perry Mason.
"Under those circumstances," said Claude Drumm, "I am taken by surprise, Your Honor, and I would like to have the case continued until tomorrow morning."
"For what reason?" asked Judge Markham.
"Simply in order to get my mind clear upon certain facts, and to ascertain what course I desire to take," said Claude Drumm.
"But," pointed out Judge Markham, "in response to a question by counsel, you have stated that this was your last witness."
"Very well," said Claude Drumm suddenly. "I rest. Let counsel go ahead with his defense."
Perry Mason bowed to the court and to the jury.
"The defendant," he said, "also rests."
"What?" shouted Claude Drumm. "You are putting on no evidence whatever?"
"The defendant," said Perry Mason with dignity, "rests."
The voice of Judge Markham was calm and judicial.
"Do you gentlemen desire to argue the case?" he asked.
"Yes," said Perry Mason, "I would like to argue the case."
"And you, Counselor?" the judge asked of Claude Drumm.
"Your Honor, I cannot argue this case at the present time. It will require some preparation. Once more I ask for an adjournment..."
"Once more," he said, in a tone of finality, "the request is denied. I feel that the rights of the defendant in this case are entitled to consideration at the hands of the Court. Go ahead and argue, Mr. Drumm."
Claude Drumm got to his feet.
"Your Honor," he said, "I think I shall ask the Court for a dismissal of this case."
The court nodded. "Very well," he said, "if..."
Perry Mason was on his feet.
"Your Honor," he said, "I object to the motion. I believe that I have previously stated my position in regard to it. The defendant in this case is entitled to have her name cleared. A dismissal of the case would not do that."
Judge Markham's eyes suddenly narrowed. He looked at Perry Mason with the wary watchfulness of a cat regarding a mouse hole.
"Do I unde
rstand, Counselor, that you object to a dismissal of this case by the prosecution?"
"I do."
"Very well," said Judge Markham, "we will let the jury take the case. The deputy district attorney will proceed with the argument."
Claude Drumm got to his feet, walked toward the jury box.
"Gentlemen of the jury," he said, "there has been a most unexpected development in this case. I do not know what course I should have taken, had the case been continued so that I could give a complete consideration to the facts. However, as the facts now stand, the defendant in this case is shown to have been present at the house where the murder was committed, at the time the murder was committed. She is shown to have had a motive strong enough to impel her to murder the decedent. The gun with which the killing was done was a gun which she had purchased. Under the circumstances, I feel that she should not be acquitted. I am frank to state I do not feel that the state should ask for the death penalty. I am frank to state that I am somewhat confused by the sudden turn of events, but I feel that these matters should be considered by you. Gentlemen, I have nothing further to say."
In savage dignity Claude Drumm strode back to the counsel table and resumed his seat.
Perry Mason approached the jurors, stared at them quizzically for a few moments.
"Gentlemen," he said, "a fortunate break on the part of the main witness for the prosecution has saved you the possibility of working an irreparable wrong upon an innocent woman.
"The evidence in this case is purely circumstantial. From the circumstances of the case, the prosecution is entitled to make any deductions it desires; also, the defense is entitled to make any deductions it desires.
"Let me, therefore, take the circumstances of this case and outline to you first, the impossibility of the crime having been committed by the defendant, and, second, the possibility that it was committed by some other person.
"In the first place, the evidence shows that the person who murdered Clinton Forbes entered the house either with a passkey or with a key which was rightfully in the possession of such person. The evidence shows that that person went to the room where Forbes was engaged in shaving. The evidence shows that Forbes strode out of his bedroom into the library to see who the intruder was; that he then became alarmed, ran back to the bathroom, and liberated the police dog which had been chained in the bathroom. It is apparent that when he heard some one in the library, Forbes mopped the lather from his face with a towel as he walked out to the library. After he beheld the intruder, he ran back to the bathroom and unchained the dog. As he did so, he used both hands to unchain the dog, and dropped the towel containing the lather which had been wiped from his face. This towel was dropped near the edge of the bathtub, in exactly the position where it would have been dropped, logically and naturally, under the circumstances. The dog sprang toward the intruder with bared teeth, and as counsel for the prosecution has so aptly remarked, and as witnesses for the prosecution have so truthfully testified, endeavored to save the life of his master. The assassin shot the dog at close quarters. The powder burns are on the fur of the dog. That shows that the dog was actually attacking the murderer when the shots were fired.
"After those shots were fired, the intruder grappled with Clinton Forbes. It will never be known whether the intruder came to meet Clinton Forbes, or whether Forbes rushed to meet the intruder, but the shots which killed Forbes were fired at close range.
"Gentlemen, it is the contention of the prosecution that those shots were fired by the defendant in this case.
"There is, gentlemen, one unanswerable objection to such a theory. That is, that if the intruder had been the defendant in this case, the police dog would not have rushed upon the defendant; nor would it have been necessary for the defendant to have shot the dog. The dog knew the defendant and loved her. The dog would never have charged upon the defendant under those circumstances, but would rather have given vent to joyous barks of canine gratification that the two persons whom it loved had been reunited.
"That, gentlemen, disposes of the case of the prosecution.
"Under the law relating to circumstantial evidence, it is necessary that before a conviction can be had at the hands of a jury, the jurors must be convinced that the circumstances can be explained upon no reasonable hypothesis, other than the guilt of the defendant.
"Now, let me point out the significant circumstances which indicate that the murder was committed by some other person:
"There is evidence in this case that Arthur Cartright complained of a dog howling on the premises of Clinton Forbes, on the night of October 15th. The dog howled continuously during the night, the howls being from the back of the house and in the neighborhood of the addition to the garage which was being duly constructed.
"Gentlemen, let us suppose that there had been an altercation between Paula Cartright and Clinton Forbes. Let us suppose that Clinton Forbes, during that altercation, had murdered Paula Cartright. Let us suppose that he and Thelma Benton, together, had scooped out a shallow grave in the soil where the cement floor of the new garage building was to be poured. And we might even suppose, in view of the terms of the note which Thelma Benton subsequently wrote, as purporting to come from the pen of Paula Cartright, then the quarrel resulted from the discovery of an intimacy between Forbes and Thelma Benton by Paula Cartright.
"Mrs. Cartright had given up her social position, her right to be considered a respectable member of society, in order to run away with Clinton Forbes, where she lived with him under such circumstances that she was barred from all friendships of her past life; could form no new friendships; was a woman continually haunted by the fear of discovery. And then she found that the sacrifice she had made was for nothing; that the love she thought she had gained by such a sacrifice was, in reality, a hollow mockery, and that Clinton Forbes was no more true to her than he had been true to the wife whom he had deserted in Santa Barbara.
"Paula Cartright quarreled bitterly and her lips were sealed forever by the two assassins who secretly buried her body. The Chinese cook was asleep. Only the stars of the night and the guilty consciences of the murderous pair who scooped out the shallow grave knew what was going on. But there was one other who knew. That was a faithful police dog. He smelled the cold corpse. He knew that it was interred in a shallow grave and he watched by that grave and howled.
"Arthur Cartright had been watching the house. He didn't realize the significance of the steady howling of the dog, but it did prey upon his overwrought nerves. He took steps to see that the dog did not howl any more, thinking at the time he instituted such steps that the howling of the dog was nothing more than a vagary of the canine mind. But at some time during the next night, the frightful significance of those howls dawned upon him. The possibility crashed home, that the dog was mourning the passing of one whom the dog held dear. His mind filled with suspicion, Arthur Cartright set out to investigate.
"Clinton Forbes and his pseudo-housekeeper had embarked upon a career of murder. They found themselves confronted with an accusation of the crime. A man who was almost as one bereft of reason demanded that he be confronted with Paula Cartright, in order that he might see for himself that she was alive and well.
"Gentlemen," said Perry Mason, lowering his voice impressively, "there was only one thing which the conspirators could do to preserve their secret. There was one more ghastly step which they had to take in order to put the seal of silence upon the lips of the man who was mouthing accusations which they knew would soon be made to the authorities, and would soon result in an investigation. They fell upon him and murdered him, as they had murdered his wife, and they buried his body beside hers, knowing that on the next day, the cement workers would pour cement over the place where the shallow graves were located, forever sealing off the ghastly evidence of the dastardly crime.
"The guilty pair were then confronted with the necessity of explaining the simultaneous absence of both Arthur Cartright and his wife. There was only one way they coul
d do it, and that was by making it appear that husband and wife had become reunited and had run away together. Thelma Benton was ambidextrous. This fact was known to Clinton Forbes. He also knew that it was extremely unlikely any one would have any specimen of the genuine handwriting of Paula Cartright. She was a woman estranged from the world, one who had burnt her bridges behind her. She had no friends to whom she cared to write. There was no one to come forward with a specimen of the woman's handwriting. So the letter was forged. The name was signed, the bridges were burnt once more, and once more the guilty pair proceeded upon their career of deception.
"Gentlemen, I need not mention to you the inevitable result of such a combination of wickedness, founded upon crime, nurtured in deception, and culminating in murder. There were two conspirators, each of whom knew that the other had the power to send the long arm of the law swooping down in righteous reprisal. Thelma Benton was the first to act. She left the house at six o'clock and repaired to a rendezvous with a male friend. What she said to him, we need not ask. We are only concerned with what happened. And, mind you, I am making no case against Thelma Benton and her accomplice, but am only pointing out to you what might have happened, as a reasonable hypothesis upon which the evidence can be explained. Thelma Benton and her accomplice returned to the house. They entered, by using the key of the pseudo-housekeeper. Upon guilty feet, the pair stalked their living prey, as though he had been a beast of the jungle. But the sensitive ears of the dog heard and interpreted that which was happening. Alarmed by the barking of the dog, Clinton Forbes stepped out of the bathroom. He saw his housekeeper standing there, and wiped the lather from his face as he started to talk to her. Then he saw the man who was with her, and knew the purpose of her visit. In a panic, he rushed to the bathroom and liberated the dog. The dog sprang at the masculine intruder, and the man shot. The dog fell lifeless to the floor. Forbes struggled with the woman and then there were two more shots fired at close range, and then - silence."
The Case Of The Howling Dog pm-4 Page 22
