“Seen Miss Hammer lately?”
“No.”
“Harris?”
Peasley’s face flushed. “Any particular reason why you should ask me about him?” he asked.
“Just wondering,” Mason said.
“No, I haven’t seen him.”
“Well,” Mason said, “whom have you seen?”
“What do you mean?”
Mason placed a fatherly hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Look here, Peasley,” he said, “something’s gone wrong. What is it?”
Peasley hesitated a moment then said in a mumbled undertone, “Nothing.”
He casually moved so that Mason’s hand dropped from his shoulder. His manner turned surly. Mason said slowly, “I think I’ve been doublecrossed. What do you know about that?”
Peasley’s eyes flared. “Not a damn thing,” he said, “and I don’t know what you’re coming here for.”
“Talk with anyone about the knife?” Mason asked, casually, and almost cheerfully.
Peasley said, “Say, what the devil are you after?”
“Just wanted to find out,” Mason remarked. Peasley kept quiet. “Have you?” Mason asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because… because I can’t.”
“Helen Warrington tell you not to?” Mason asked. Peasley was silent. Mason laughed and said, “Don’t make such a mystery of it. Sergeant Holcomb knows about it so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t tell the world.”
Peasley’s face showed a peculiar change of expression. “You know about that?” he asked.
“What, about Sergeant Holcomb?”
“Yes.”
“Of course I know about it. He told me.” Mason took a cigarette case from his pocket, extended it to Peasley. They both took cigarettes. Mason held a match. “Holcomb’s a pretty smart chap,” Mason said, casually. “He doesn’t miss much.”
“I’ll tell the world he doesn’t.”
“How did he find out about the knife, did he tell you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him a written statement?”
“Look here,” Peasley said, “I’m not supposed to discuss this.”
“Oh, Holcomb wouldn’t care, if you talked it over with me.”
“You’re the very one he didn’t want to know about it.”
Mason raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why, I don’t see how that can be, because I do know about it.”
“Yes, but he didn’t think you did.”
Mason yawned and said, “Shucks, Peasley, it’s all right with me. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
“Well, I was just following instructions, that was all. You put me in a spot, Mr. Mason.”
Mason’s face showed surprised incredulity. “I what?” he asked.
“Put me in a spot.”
“Why, nothing of the sort,” Mason said. “You have a right to sell hardware to anyone.”
“That isn’t the way Sergeant Holcomb looked at it.”
“To hell with Sergeant Holcomb,” Mason said easily. “Tell him to go jump in the lake. He hasn’t got any money invested in the store, has he?”
“No.”
“Well, what’s bothering you?”
“He said it dragged Helen into it.”
“He’s a liar,” Mason remarked cheerfully. “No one’s dragged Helen into anything.”
“But I gave you the knife that you were going to substitute for…”
“Substitute?” he asked. “For what?”
“Why, for the other knife.”
Mason’s shake of the head was a slow, solemn gesture of amazed, incredulous negation. “Why I wasn’t going to substitute any knives,” he said.
“What did you want it for then?”
“Just to conduct an experiment. In order to perform that experiment, I had to have a knife of the same size and appearance as the one that had killed Rease.”
“What was the experiment?”
Mason sucked in a quick breath, as though about to answer the question in detail, then paused, exhaled and slowly shook his head. “Nnno, I don’t think I’d better tell you. You see, I’m not quite ready to confide in Sergeant Holcomb, and he might ask you. It would be a lot better for you to tell him that you didn’t know than to tell him that you knew but were sworn to secrecy. Sergeant Holcomb is a bit impulsive at times and he might feel you weren’t cooperating with him, particularly if he thinks there’s anything questionable about getting that knife for me. I certainly hope he didn’t rattle you any, Peasley.”
“Well, I was annoyed and a little worried.”
“Worried?”
“Yes. Holcomb said something about compounding felonies.”
Mason laughed and said, “Don’t let a police sergeant tell you what the law is. Get your law from a lawyer. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that wasn’t quite all right.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried, not for myself, but for Helen.”
“Forget it,” Mason told him. “By the way, I want to get some more of those knives.”
“Some more of them?”
“Perhaps half a dozen. Do you suppose you could send to the manufacturer and get them?”
“I guess so, yes.”
“Would it take a long while?”
“I think I could pick them up from some of the wholesale houses here in town.”
“Go ahead and do it, then,” Mason instructed, taking a roll of bills from his pocket and tossing a couple of twenties on the counter. “That should cover your expenses as well as compensate you for any extra trouble you go to.”
“I’ll only charge you the regular price,” Peasley said hastily, “but I’d have to get Sergeant Holcomb’s permission.”
“An attachment on the store?” Mason asked.
“No, certainly not.”
“I don’t see why you can’t sell merchandise without permission from a police officer.”
“But he wanted me to keep him advised of anything you said to me. Otherwise, he claimed he’d have to make trouble over that knife business last night.”
Mason laughed heartily and said, “Sure, go ahead. Ring him up and tell him I was in and wanted half a dozen more knives. Don’t tell him, however, that I’ve said anything at all about him. He might not like that. Just say I came in and asked you to get me some more knives. If you handle it that way, you won’t have to tell him you discussed his visit with me. He’s a peculiar chap and he might not like it.”
“All right,” Peasley said with eager alacrity. “I’ll do that. I’ll handle it just that way, Mr. Mason.”
“And, if I see him, I won’t mention talking about him with you. That may make it better all around. You can ring him up and tell him I was in asking for half a dozen identical knives… Well, I must be going. Hope I didn’t interrupt you.”
“Not at all.”
“And it won’t be too much bother for you to get those half dozen knives?”
“Certainly not.”
Mason shook hands and left. At the corner drug store he telephoned his office. “Della there?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Mason, she went out to the hotel you told her to go to. I have the telephone number here.”
“Give it to me,” Mason said. He made a note of the number, called the Lafitte Hotel, asked for Miss Street in 609, and shortly afterward heard Della Street’s voice on the line. “Holcomb been in the office, Della?” he asked.
“No, why?”
“He pumped Peasley about that knife business.”
“He did! What did Peasley tell him?”
“Spilled the whole business.”
“How did Sergeant Holcomb know about it in the first place?”
“That’s what I’d like to find out.”
“Edna Hammer certainly wouldn’t have told him.”
“One wouldn’t think so,” Mason agreed.
“Will you
be in trouble on account of it, Chief?”
“I don’t know. I’ve done whatever I could to counteract it. That is, I’ve managed to mix the case all up.”
“By doing what?”
“Ordering more of the same article. How are things looking down there?”
“Everything’s coming fine.”
“Met the woman yet?”
“Yes. Had a nice conversation with her. Very sweet and formal. You know, the nice soft paw covering the sharp claws.”
“Swell,” he told her. “Met the man yet?”
“No, but I’m going to.”
“Stay with it,” he said, “I’ll give you a ring, if anything new turns up.”
Chapter 19
The clerk swore the jury. Judge Markham, shrewdeyed student of human nature, settled back behind the massive mahogany bench. Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, broadshouldered, thicknecked, with the powerful muscles of virile maturity, sat in watchful attention, studying Perry Mason as a catcher observes a runner who is taking a long lead off first base. Beside him sat Sam Blaine, young, tall, slender, and trying to look impressive, fingering the black ribbon which dangled from his glasses. At the opposite counsel table, Perry Mason sat alone. A few feet behind him, Peter Kent, with white, drawn features, kept twisting his fingers. Slightly back of him, Lucille Mays watched proceedings with apprehensive eyes. At times she tried to smile reassuringly at Peter Kent. The effort was a pathetic failure. Judge Markham said, “Permit me to congratulate Counsel for both sides upon the expediency with which jurors have been selected. Do you wish to make an opening speech, Mr. District Attorney?”
District Attorney Burger moved up in front of the bar which separated the twelve curious jurors from the portion of the courtroom reserved for Counsel. Back of the bar, the crowded courtroom was tense with hushed expectancy. Burger said, “Gentlemen, I am not going to indulge in oratory. I shall at this time tell you briefly what the Prosecution expects to prove. On the thirteenth of this month the defendant, Peter Kent, was living in his residence in Hollywood. There were in that residence, besides the servants, Edna Hammer, a niece; P. L. Rease, a halfbrother; John J. Duncan, an attorney from Chicago; Frank B. Maddox, a business associate of the defendant; Helen Warrington, the defendant’s secretary. We expect to show that on the morning of the fourteenth the defendant entered the bedroom of P. L. Rease and stabbed him to death. We expect to show that P. L. Rease, without the knowledge of the defendant, had exchanged bedrooms with Frank B. Maddox, that between Maddox and the defendant was bad blood; that the defendant labored under the impression, either founded or unfounded, that Maddox was swindling him and trying to hold him up in a business deal.
“As nearly as can be ascertained, the decedent met his death from a stabbing wound inflicted by a carving knife at approximately three o’clock in the morning. Death was instantaneous. We expect to show that at the hour of three o’clock in the morning Peter Kent, the defendant, having this same carving knife in his hand, was moving stealthily, in bare feet, across the patio which separated the wing containing his bedroom from that containing the bedroom of Frank B. Maddox, which was then occupied by the decedent, P. L. Rease. We expect to show that the fatal weapon was subsequently found under the pillow of the bed occupied that night by the defendant; that the blade of the knife shows unmistakably that it was the weapon used to kill P. L. Rease. We expect to show that subsequent to his arrest, the defendant voluntarily admitted that he was an habitual sleepwalker; that he had every reason to believe that while walking in his sleep he had homicidal tendencies.
“The Court will instruct you gentlemen that once the killing by the defendant has been established, the burden of proving circumstances that mitigate, justify or excuse it shifts to the defendant. So far as the Prosecution is concerned, it will show the death of Rease; that the death was due to a stabbing wound inflicted with a carving knife; that the carving knife was in the possession of the defendant at approximately the time of the murder; that the defendant was actually seen leaving the wing of the house containing the bedroom of the decedent at approximately the time of the murder. We expect to show that the defendant thought Maddox occupied the bed in which Rease was sleeping, that the defendant had every motive for murdering Maddox. As you gentlemen have been made aware by questions asked you by the Defense when you were selected as jurors, the Defense will reply, at least in part, upon a theory of sleepwalking. We expect to show that upon a prior occasion, approximately one year before the commission of the crime, the defendant secured a carving knife and…”
Perry Mason slowly raised himself from his seat and said, “Your Honor, I object to the district attorney incorporating in his statement anything which took place a year before the commission of the crime; object to his seeking to anticipate our defense, and move that the jurors be instructed to disregard his statements.”
“The evidence is perfectly proper,” Burger retorted, “in that it shows that at a prior time the defendant had knowledge of his homicidal tendencies while walking in his sleep; that he made no effort to curb those tendencies when he realized he was once more walking in his sleep. I am predicating this part of my argument on the theory which the Defense itself has outlined.”
Judge Markham rapped with his gavel and said, “It is not incumbent upon the Prosecution to anticipate the Defense. Whether evidence in rebuttal can include incidents taking place prior to the crime and separated from it by a period of twelve months is something which will be determined when the question arises. In the meantime, the objection of the Defense is well taken, the Court will order that that portion of the opening speech be withdrawn from the jury, and the jurors are specifically instructed to disregard it. The jurors are also instructed that the opening statement made by the district attorney merely outlines what he expects to prove and is made for the purpose of clarifying the issues in the minds of the jurors. The statements made by the district attorney are not to be considered as evidence. Go on, Mr. District Attorney.”
“We expect to show,” Hamilton Burger resumed, “by the defendant’s own niece, that prior to the commission of the crime, in fact two days before, she had found the same weapon with which the murder was subsequently committed under the pillow of the defendant’s bed. Upon this evidence, Gentlemen, and upon such other evidence as may be introduced in rebuttal, the Prosecution will ask at your hands a conviction of first degree murder.”
Hamilton Burger sat down. Judge Markham asked Perry Mason, “Do you desire to make an opening statement, Counselor?”
“I will withhold my statement until just before I start to put on my case,” Mason said.
“Very well, the Prosecution will call its first witness.”
“I shall prove the Corpus Delicti by calling Frank B. Maddox,” Burger said.
Maddox came forward and was sworn. “Your name is Frank B. Maddox and you reside in Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“You were present in the house of the defendant during the night of the thirteenth of this month and the morning of the fourteenth?”
“I was.”
“Do you know if P. L. Rease was related to the defendant?”
“He was the defendant’s halfbrother.”
“How long had you been in the defendant’s house prior to the thirteenth?”
“I arrived on the tenth.”
“On the morning of the fourteenth did you have occasion to see Mr. P. L. Rease?”
“I did.”
“Where was he?”
“In his bedroom.”
“Was he alive or dead?”
“He was dead, lying in bed flat on his back, with a light blanket drawn up under his chin. There was a cut in the blanket, where a knife had been thrust through the covering and into Mr. Rease’s body. The blanket was soaked in blood, and Mr. Rease was dead.”
“I shall recall this witness later on,” Hamilton Burger said, “for further questions, but at the present time I am merely showing the Corpus Delicti and
I shall ask permission to withdraw him temporarily.”
“Very well,” Judge Markham said.
“Do you wish to crossexamine?” Burger inquired.
“Yes,” Mason said. “You say you were in the house during the evening of the thirteenth, Mr. Maddox?”
“Yes.”
“And during the morning of the fourteenth?”
“Yes.”
“When did you first leave the house on the morning of the fourteenth?”
“Is that material?” Burger asked, frowning.
“I think so.”
“I don’t. I object to it on the ground that it is immaterial, that it is not proper crossexamination.”
Judge Markham hesitated a moment. “I will,” Perry Mason said, “amend the question, to make it as follows: When did you first leave the house on the morning of the fourteenth prior to the time the body was discovered?”
“That question is plainly within the scope of crossexamination,” Judge Markham ruled. “Answer it.”
“I didn’t leave the house at all,” Maddox said.
Mason raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t you leave the house about three o’clock in the morning?” he asked.
“No.”
“You went to your room the evening of the thirteenth at what time?”
“Approximately ninethirty I should judge.”
“Did you go to bed immediately after going to your room?”
“No, my attorney, Mr. Duncan, went to my room with me. We were engaged in a long conference.”
“What time did you arise on the morning of the fourteenth?” Mason asked.
“I was aroused by you and Dr. Kelton invading my room, trying to find out who had been killed…”
“Move to strike out that portion of the answer as a conclusion of the witness,” Mason said.
“It will go out,” Judge Markham ruled. “The jury will disregard it.”
“What time was it?”
“Around eight o’clock, I think.”
“And you wish the jury to understand, Mr. Maddox, that you were continuously in the house from the time you retired on the evening of the thirteenth to eight o’clock in the morning of the fourteenth?”
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