The Case of the Careless Kitten
Page 20
“A man named Rodney French.”
“There were several other checks?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, where were those checks when you saw them last?”
“They were in my bedroom in a pigeonhole in a desk which was pushed back against the wall.”
“That was a roll-top desk?”
“Yes, sir.”
“An old one?”
“Yes, sir. It had been in my husband’s study. It was his desk.”
“You mean he had used it continuously up to the time of his disappearance as his desk?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you were using it on the thirteenth of this month?”
“That’s right.”
“And these checks which I have mentioned were in there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many of them?”
“There were about a dozen of them in an envelope, checks which had been put through the account within the last few days prior to his disappearance, or checks which had been written immediately before his disappearance and were cashed afterwards.”
“Why were those checks segregated in that manner?”
“Because I thought they might prove to be evidence. I put them in an envelope and kept them in this drawer.”
“When did you leave your house on the night of the thirteenth?”
“I don’t know exactly what time it was. I was getting ready for bed. It was probably around ten o’clock. I followed my usual custom of drinking a bottle of stout and shortly afterwards became violently ill. Remembering that the kitten had been poisoned, I took an emetic and went at once to the hospital.”
“Where were the checks which you have mentioned when you went to the hospital?”
“In that pigeonhole in the desk.”
“How do you know?”
“I had been looking at them shortly before, and I hadn’t left the bedroom except to go to the icebox and get a bottle of stout and a glass.”
“When did you next enter your bedroom?”
“The next morning about nine o’clock when I was discharged from the hospital.”
“Did anyone accompany you?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Lieutenant Tragg.”
“At his suggestion, did you search through your room to see if anything was missing?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find anything missing?”
“No.”
Burger produced the watch and fountain pen which had been identified as having been found near Leech’s body. Mrs. Shore stated positively they were the property of her husband, that he had had both of these objects in his possession the night he had disappeared, and that she had never seen them again until the police had shown them to her.
“Cross-examine,” Burger said.
“You couldn’t find that anything was missing from your room when you searched it after your return from the hospital?”
“No.”
Mason said, “That’s all.”
Swiftly Hamilton Burger laid the foundations for a complete case. He called the autopsy surgeon, called Dr. Rosllyn, identified the bullets which had been taken from the wound inflicted on Jerry Templar and from the body of Henry Leech. He then recalled Lieutenant Tragg to get the bullet which had embedded itself in the woodwork of the Shore home; following which he called the expert from the criminal laboratories who introduced photographs showing the distinctive scratches made by the rifling and by pits in the barrel of the gun, showing that these bullets had all been fired from the same gun.
Judge Lankershim glanced at the clock. “You will understand,” he said to Burger, “that we are not trying the murder case at this time.”
“Yes, Your Honor, but we are showing the circumstances which surrounded the commission of the alleged crime in this case. We are showing the significance of what had happened and the importance of having the police unimpeded in their efforts to solve these crimes.”
Judge Lankershim nodded, glanced curiously at Mason, who seemed to be taking but very little interest in the entire procedure.
“I will now call Thomas Lunk,” Hamilton Burger announced with something of a flourish.
Lunk came shuffling forward. He seemed reluctant to testify, and Burger had to draw his story from him a bit at a time, frequently using leading questions, occasionally cross-examining his own witness, a procedure which Judge Lankershim allowed because of the apparent hostility of the witness.
Pieced together, Lunk’s story made a convincing and dramatic climax to the case the district attorney had been building up. He told of how he had gone home from work that night, of how Helen Kendal had brought the kitten to his house where it was left for safekeeping, told of how he had listened to the radio, read a magazine, and while he was in the midst of reading this magazine, he had heard steps on the porch, knocking at the door. He had opened the door, and then drawn back in surprise as he recognized the features of his former employer.
He mentioned but briefly that they had “talked for a while” and then he had given Shore the bed in his spare bedroom. He had waited until he felt certain his visitor was asleep, then had quietly slipped out of the front door, taken a late street car, got off at a point nearest the Shore residence, and started hurriedly for the house; that the defendant had intercepted him, asked him if he wanted to see Mrs. Shore, and, on being assured that he did, had taken him in an automobile, stating that she would take him to Mrs. Shore; that thereafter she had, as he reluctantly admitted, “stalled around” until Perry Mason had appeared on the scene, whereupon they had gone to a hospital, and Mason had told him Mrs. Shore was virtually in the custody of the police; that thereafter Mason had taken him to the Maple Leaf Hotel, had secured a room for him under the name of Thomas Trimmer; that he had gone to his room. After he had started to undress, there had been a knock at the door. Police radio officers had taken him into custody. He had no idea how they had found out where he was.
“What was the condition of Mr. Shore so far as his clothing was concerned when you left the house?”
“He was in bed, if that’s what you mean.”
“And undressed?”
“Yes.”
“And you felt that he was asleep?”
“Never mind what the witness felt,” Mason said. “What did he see? What did he hear?”
“Very well,” Burger conceded with poor grace, “I will reframe the question. Was there anything in his appearance which you saw or heard which indicated whether he was asleep or awake?”
“Well, he was snoring,” Lunk reluctantly admitted.
“And you, at that time, were fully dressed? You hadn’t been to bed?”
“No, sir.”
“And you left the house?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you try to leave quietly?”
“Well, yes, I did.”
“And you walked to the car line?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How far?”
“A block.”
“How long did you have to wait for a car?”
“There was a car coming when I got to the corner. I hopped aboard.”
“How long were you on this street car?”
“Not over ten minutes.”
“And how long from the time you left the street car until the defendant in this case accosted you and picked you up?”
“Oh, not very long.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it a minute, two minutes, five minutes, or twenty minutes?”
“Oh, a minute,” Lunk said.
Hamilton Burger said, “I submit, Your Honor, that it’s unreasonable to suppose this man who was sleeping peacefully in this bed aroused, investigated to find that Mr. Lunk had left, dressed himself, and left the house within that short space of time. I think it is a reasonable inference for the jury to draw that Mr. Shore was in that bed in that house at the very time M
iss Street picked up this witness.”
“That’s an argument counsel can make to the jury,” Mason said. “He has no right making it now. If he wants to argue the case now, I’ll say that . . .”
Judge Lankershim stopped him. “The jury will pay no attention to the arguments of counsel at the present time,” he admonished the jury. “They are directed exclusively to the Court. Proceed with your examination of the witness, Mr. Burger.”
“After the defendant in this case picked you up and took you in her automobile, Mr. Perry Mason joined you, did he not?”
“Yes.”
“And thereafter Mr. Mason took you to this hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Now was Miss Street, the defendant, with you all of that time?”
“No.”
“When did she leave you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know about what time it was?”
“No.”
“Where did she leave you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“It was in front of a hotel, was it not?”
“I wouldn’t want to say.”
“But it was at some point where she took a taxicab, was it not?”
“I think there was a taxicab there.”
“And afterwards Mr. Mason remained with you for some time, getting some flowers, sending them to Mrs. Shore in the hospital, going out to your house to inspect it, and then driving you to this hotel?”
The witness hesitated for several seconds, then gave a sullen, monosyllabic answer. “Yes.”
Burger said, “You may cross-examine, Mr. Mason,” and there was a smirk of triumph in his voice as he said it.
Mason looked at the witness. “Mr. Lunk, I want you to answer my questions frankly. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“After Miss Street left us, we went to your house, did we not?”
“Yes.”
“We arrived there about four or four-thirty in the morning?”
“I guess so, yes.”
“It was cold?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There was no fire going in the house?”
“No, sir.”
“You lit a gas heater after we arrived?”
“That’s right.”
“When you first left the house, you had left the door between the front bedroom and the bathroom closed?”
“Yes.”
“And when we arrived there, that door was open.”
“Yes.”
“And the contents of the dresser drawers had been dumped out and clothes taken from the closet?”
“That’s right.”
“Was anything missing?”
“Yes. Some money had been taken from where I’d been keeping it hid—in a pocket of my best suit.”
“That suit had been left hanging in the closet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How much was missing?”
“Objected to,” Burger said, “as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial. It’s not proper cross-examination. It has nothing whatever to do with the facts of this case.”
“Overruled,” the Judge said. “The defendant is entitled to show the condition of the premises and anything which would reasonably make it appear the departure of Franklin Shore might have been prior to the time the prosecution claims that departure took place.”
“Around three hundred dollars was missing,” Lunk said.
“The door to the pantry was closed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, when you had been cooking, you had taken flour from a can in the pantry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And some of that flour had been spilled on the floor around the can?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When we arrived, there was a kitten in the house?”
“That’s right.”
“This was a kitten which had previously been left with you by Helen Kendal?”
“Yes.”
“And, I believe, I called your attention to the fact that the kitten had evidently run through this sprinkling of flour which surrounded the can, and then had run across the kitchen, through the door of the kitchen, and into the back bedroom?”
“That’s right.”
“There were tracks showing that this had happened?”
“Yes. It ain’t far from the pantry to the door of the back bedroom, only three or four feet, I guess.”
“And not more than four or five feet from the bedroom door to the back bed?”
“Yes.”
“And by the side of that bed I called your attention to a place where the tracks showed the kitten’s paws had been bunched together as though it had jumped up on the bed?”
“Yes.”
“The kitten was curled up in a little ball in the center of the bed in the front room when we got there? Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“But you remember distinctly that the pantry door was closed?”
“Yes.”
“On a table in the sitting room was an ash tray, and a. visiting card bearing the name George Alber, some writing on this card, and an ash tray which held the stub of a cold cigar?”
“Yes. The cigar was left by Franklin Shore. I found the card stuck in the door when I went out.”
“When you went out?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t hear any knocking at the door or ringing of the doorbell while you were there?”
“No. That’s why the card bothered me. Alber must have tried to ring the bell, and it didn’t work. Sometimes it gets out of order.”
The district attorney said to Mason, “May I withdraw this witness temporarily to put on two other witnesses who are anxious to get away? Then this witness can return to the stand.”
Mason bowed grave assent. “No objection.”
Burger called in rapid succession the taxi driver who told of taking Della Street to the neighborhood, of the length of time she was absent from his cab, and of then driving her to her apartment. Tragg, recalled to the stand, testified as to finding the kitten in Della Street’s apartment, and Helen Kendal, recalled, identified the kitten as the one which had been poisoned and which she had left with Thomas Lunk on the evening of the thirteenth.
Mason apparently paid not the slightest attention to any of these other witnesses. He did not bother with interposing any objections, nor did he use his right of cross-examination.
Then Lunk was recalled for further cross-examination.
Mason studied the witness for several seconds until the silence focused the attention of everyone in the courtroom upon the importance of what he was about to say.
“When was the last time you remember opening that can of flour in the pantry?”
“The morning of the thirteenth. I made some pancakes for breakfast.”
“And, since I called your attention to the rather large amount of flour which was sprinkled around the base of the can, you haven’t taken the lid off the flour container?”
“No, sir. I haven’t had any chance. The police took me from the hotel and have held me ever since.”
“As a material witness,” Hamilton Burger hastened to explain.
Lunk turned to him with some show of temper and said “I don’t care why you did it, but you sure did it!”
Judge Lankershim said, “The witness will confine himself to answering questions.”
Mason looked up at Judge Lankershim. “If Your Honor will take a recess for half an hour, I don’t think it will be necessary to ask any more questions.”
“Just what is the object of such a continuance?”
Mason was smiling now. “I couldn’t help observing, Your Honor, that the moment I began this last phase of the cross-examination, Lieutenant Tragg rather hurriedly left the courtroom. I think that thirty minutes will give him ample opportunity to get out to the house, search the flour can, and return.”
“It is your contention that the cover was r
emoved from that flour can sometime during the evening of the thirteenth, or the morning of the fourteenth by some person other than the witness Thomas Lunk?” Judge Lankershim asked.
Mason’s smile broadened. “I think, Your Honor, Lieutenant Tragg will make a very interesting discovery. Your Honor appreciates my position. I am only interested in establishing the innocence of this defendant. Therefore, I don’t care to make any statement as to what may be discovered, nor as to its evidentiary value.”
Judge Lankershim said, “Very well, the Court will take a thirty-minute recess.”
As the people shuffled out of the courtroom to congregate in the hallways, George Alber came pushing forward, a somewhat sheepish grin on his face.
“Sorry if that card mixed things up any,” he said. “As it happens, I was driving by Lunk’s place after the theater. Thought I’d stop and see if a light was on. One was, so I went up and pushed the bell. No one answered, so I left the card—thought Helen might appreciate my thinking of the kitten—and I was a bit worried.
“To tell you the truth, it never occurred to me the bell might be out of order.”
“A light was on?” Mason asked.
“Yes. I could see a light through the shades. I just didn’t knock, because I thought the bell was ringing.”
“What time was this?”
“Oh, right around midnight.”
Mason pursed his lips, said, “You might casually mention it to the district attorney.”
“I have. He says he knows the bell was out of order, so it’s unimportant.”
Mason said, “I guess it is, then.”
22
WHEN COURT reconvened, Hamilton Burger showed very plainly that he was laboring under great excitement. “If the Court please,” he said, “a very startling situation has developed in this case. I ask permission to withdraw the witness Lunk from the stand and recall Lieutenant Tragg.”
“No objection,” Mason said.
“Very well,” Judge Lankershim ruled. “Lieutenant Tragg will once more take the stand. You have already been sworn, Lieutenant.”
Tragg nodded and walked to the witness stand.
Burger asked, “Have you recently made a trip to the residence of the witness Lunk?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That was within the last thirty minutes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you do?”
“I went into the pantry and took the lid off the tin of flour.”