“Yes, Your Honour.”

  “Now then, in view of that statement do you wish to recall any of these witnesses for cross-examination?”

  “No, Your Honour.”

  Judge Hoyt said, “Let the record show that the Court has again given the defence an opportunity to cross-examine witnesses and that the attorney for the defence refuses to make such cross-examination.”

  “So stipulated,” Mason said cheerfully.

  Hamilton Burger glowered at him.

  “Harold Ogelsby take the stand,” Hamilton Burger said.

  Ogelsby came forward, was sworn, identified himself as being a police detective.

  “Did you have occasion to interrogate the defendant on the morning of the fourth of this month?”

  “I did, yes, sir.”

  “That was the day after the body of George C Lutts had been discovered?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you ask her to make any statements?”

  “I advised her of her rights. I told her that if she made any statements, they might be used against her. I told her that if she could make any explanation as to why she had been out in the vicinity at the time, that is, any explanation which would be reasonably satisfying, we would release her.”

  “And did she make any statement?”

  “No.”

  “Just a minute,” Judge Hoyt said. “Do you wish to object to that, Mr Mason?”

  “No, Your Honour.”

  “Well, the Court interposes an objection for you,” Judge Hoyt said. “There is no obligation on the part of a defendant to make a statement. I note that this is not a case where the defendant has specifically been accused of crime and fails to deny it. This is a case where the defendant was called on to make a statement, and she remained silent. The Court will strike the answer from the record. The Court will object to it on behalf of the defendant.”

  “Very well, Your Honour,” Hamilton Burger said. “The point was merely preliminary.”

  “Then get to the point you’re trying to make,” Judge Hoyt snapped, his nerves badly frayed.

  “Yes, Your Honour.” Hamilton Burger was smiling now, suave and triumphant, all but ready to close his case, visualizing newspaper comments that, while Perry Mason had on occasion transformed the court of a committing magistrate into a three-ring circus, his pyrotechnics had signally failed to materialize when Hamilton Burger himself had taken over all phases of a preliminary hearing.

  “Now then,” Hamilton Burger said, “did you have occasion to search the purse of the defendant?”

  “I asked her if she would let me look in it.”

  “Did she raise any objection?”

  “No.”

  “Did you look in it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, I am not going to ask you about all of the things that you found, many of which may be irrelevant, but I am going to ask you if in that purse you found a piece of paper?”

  “I did.”

  “And what was the nature of that paper?”

  “It was a receipt from the Red Line Cab Company, receipt for cab seven-sixty-one, trip nine-eight-four, in an amount of two dollars and ninety-five cents.”

  “You say that was cab seven-sixty-one?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You have that receipt here?”

  “I do.”

  “You found it in the defendant’s purse?”

  “Yes.”

  “I ask that it be introduced in evidence,” Hamilton Burger said, “and if the Court please, I will connect it up.”

  “No objection,” Mason said cheerfully. “Stipulate that it may be received in evidence.”

  “Cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.

  “No questions,” Mason said.

  Judge Hoyt again started to say something, then checked himself.

  “Call Jerome C Keddie to the stand,” Hamilton Burger said.

  Jerome Keddie came forward, was sworn, gave his name, address and occupation as that of a taxi driver for the Red Line Cab Company.

  “On the third of this month, were you operating a taxicab for the Red Line Cab Company?”

  “I was.”

  “What was the number of that cab?”

  “Number seven-sixty-one.”

  “Where were you operating that cab at about four-forty-five on the afternoon of the day?”

  “I had deposited a fare at the country club at just about four-thirty. I was running back empty toward the city.”

  “Did you follow a course which would take you near the point shown on this map, People’s Exhibit A?”

  “I did, yes, sir.”

  “What, if anything, happened as you approached the intersection of this roadway?”

  “Well, when I came to the intersection I saw a very good-looking woman, dressed in a white skirt and white shoes and a sort of sport jacket with red trim, hurrying out of this road that–”

  “Just a moment. Indicating on this map by the words ‘this road,’ what do you mean?”

  The witness walked over to the map and indicated the road.

  “Let the record show that the witness is indicating the road, in fact, the only road, leading from the property where the body was discovered to the main highway,” Hamilton Burger said. “Now then, just resume your position on the stand, Mr Keddie, and tell me what happened.”

  “This woman seemed very agitated and upset, very nervous. She flagged me down, and, of course, I was anxious to get a fare, so I pulled the car to a stop – I’d slowed down as soon as I saw her. I thought maybe she’d be looking for a cab. Well, she sure was. She was sure nervous and upset. She couldn’t tell me at first the way she wanted to go. She told me just to drive on toward town. I could see she was thinking.

  “Well, then she told me that she wanted to go to the Union Station. Well, I knew that was a blind because–”

  “That will do,” Judge Hoyt snapped. “If it is incumbent upon the Court to protect the rights of the defendant, the Court will endeavour to do so. The witness will give none of his conclusions. Simply state the facts.”

  “Yes,” Hamilton Burger said virtuously, “just state the facts.”

  “Well,” Keddie said, “she told me she wanted to go to the Union Station, and I took her there.”

  “Did you have any other conversation?”

  “I asked her if she might be in trouble of some sort or other, if there was anything I could do to help.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she was all right.”

  “Did you notice her particularly?”

  “I sure did.”

  “Who was that woman?”

  “The defendant.”

  “Point to her, please.”

  The witness pointed to Sybil Harlan.

  “Let the record show the witness is pointing directly at the defendant, Sybil Harlan,” Hamilton Burger said.

  “So stipulated,” Mason said affably.

  Judge Hoyt frowned at him.

  “Then what did you do?” Burger asked.

  “Well, I took her to the Union Station and drove away.”

  “How much was the fare, do you remember?”

  “I remember exactly. The fare was two dollars and ninety-five cents. She gave me three dollars and a half, which made a fifty-five cent tip.”

  “Did you watch to see where she went?”

  “She walked into the station, then turned toward the cab stand out at the back. I knew she was going to–”

  “Never mind your conclusions,” Judge Hoyt said. “The Court doesn’t want to have to warn you again, Mr Keddie.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me ‘Your Honour.’”

  “Yes, Your Honour.”

  “Go ahead,” Hamilton Burger said.

  “Well, that was all.”

  “Now, just a moment,” Hamilton Burger said. “Your taxicab, in common with all Red Line Cabs, is equipped with a taximeter which starts in operation when you pull your flag down, is that right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And that meter is coupled with the speedometer and a clockwork mechanism so the amount of the fare is registered?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And when you manipulate the flag at the termination of the trip, that causes the amount to be rung up on the meter in the nature of a register and a slip of paper comes out which you give to the customer?”

  “Yes, sir. Most of them don’t take it, but the paper’s there.”

  “And did that happen in this case, when you terminated the trip at the Union Station?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what did the defendant do, if anything?”

  “She took the paper and put it in her purse.”

  “Now then,” Hamilton Burger said, “I’m going to show you this piece of paper and ask you if you know what it is.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the receipt from my cab which I gave the defendant in this case.”

  “When?”

  “There at the Union Station.”

  “At what time?”

  “Oh, I reckon it was just a minute or two after five when we got there.”

  “And what does that paper show?”

  “It shows that this was trip nine-eighty-four, that it was my cab, number seven-sixty-one, that the amount of the meter was two dollars and ninety-five cents.”

  “That’s all,” Hamilton Burger said.

  The witness got up and started to leave the stand. “Just a moment,” Mason said. “With the indulgence of the Court, I have a few questions to ask on cross-examination.”

  Judge Hoyt, who had been somewhat apprehensive, settled back with an expression of relief on his face.

  “You recognize this slip?” Mason asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you recognize the defendant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You first saw the defendant that afternoon at the point you indicated on the map?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So far as you know, had you ever seen her before?”

  “I never saw her before in all my life, as far as I know.”

  “When did you see her next?” Mason asked, quite casually.

  “When I was asked to pick her out of a lineup down at police headquarters.”

  “When was that?”

  “Sometime on the morning of the fourth, about ten or eleven o’clock.”

  “Did you pick her out?”

  “I certainly did.”

  “You hadn’t seen her from the time you deposited her at the Union Station until you saw her again in that lineup?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Isn’t there a chance you’re mistaken?”

  “None whatever.”

  “Isn’t there a chance that some other time on the third you may have had this young woman in your cab and that you have confused her identity in your own mind?”

  “None whatever.”

  “You feel certain that you would have noticed this defendant if you had seen her again prior to the time you picked her out of the lineup?”

  “You mean after I saw her out there when she got in the cab that afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure, I’d have known her. I knew her the next morning when I picked her out of the lineup, didn’t I?”

  “Now then,” Mason said, “you keep some sort of a record of your own, do you not, in regard to your trips?”

  “That’s right. I make a note of all the trips I make.”

  “And you telephone in to cab headquarters, announcing when you’re making a trip. In other words, you telephoned in when you started out to the country club?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when you started back, you reported that you were coming back empty?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And then when you picked up a passenger, did you report that fact?”

  “That’s right, and I marked the Union Station down on my trip sheet.”

  “That’s right. You marked on your trip sheet the fact that you were going to the Union Station.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you have that sheet with you?”

  “I do, yes, sir.”

  “Let me look at it, please.”

  “Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant, immaterial, not proper cross-examination and not the best evidence,” Hamilton Burger said. “That sheet is not part of the official records of the company, that sheet was never shown to the defendant. It is only the personal record of the witness. It has no proper bearing, nor were any questions asked about it on direct examination.”

  “Overruled,” Judge Hoyt said.

  Hamilton Burger smiled triumphantly. Now he had the record in such shape that the impartiality of the Court could not be questioned. Not only had Perry Mason not been curtailed in his cross-examination, but the Court had overruled the district attorney’s objection to one of Perry Mason’s questions.

  “May I see the sheet, please?”

  The witness took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, handed it to Perry Mason, and said, “I keep this in connection with my own books. I check in with the trips at the taxicab company about once a week in order to make sure we’ve got them straight.”

  “I see,” Mason said. “What time do you go to work?”

  “Well, it varies, depending which shift I’m on.”

  “On the third of this month what time did you go to work?”

  “I went to work at four o’clock in the afternoon and got off at midnight.”

  “So you’d picked up your cab around four o’clock?”

  “Around there – actually, about ten minutes before four.”

  “The trip to the country club was then your first trip of the afternoon?”

  “No, that was the second trip. I’d picked up a man who wanted to go to the Jonathan Club. That was the first trip. Then I picked up this fare for the country club. That was a good trip.”

  “How long did it take you to get out there?”

  “Right around twenty minutes.”

  “So then you had started that trip around four-ten in the afternoon?”

  “I guess so, right around there.”

  “And you had picked up your cab at what time?”

  “Well, my partner who ran the cab before I did was a little early getting in, about ten minutes early – we like to have them right in on time, but of course you can’t help it sometimes when you’re out on a call. You have to learn to take things like that; if they’re not over ten or fifteen minutes late, nobody ever says anything. But we try to be on time or perhaps a little early. Of course, each driver wants to get as much use out of the cab as he can. I have to have it back in the lot there at twelve o’clock midnight. I want to get as much out of the bus as I can in the line of trips and tips, but I also want to give the next driver a break. If a man is over fifteen minutes late or if he makes a habit of being late, why then, you sometimes make trouble, but this time the man before me came in a little early.”

  “So you started out a little before four. You had one fare, which took you to the Jonathan Club. Then where did you go?”

  “Well, then I went down and got in line at the Biltmore Hotel. At that hour of the afternoon you can pick up a fare there without waiting very long. I waited there for about … oh, I don’t know … I guess for four or five minutes and then soon as I got in position the doorman gave me this fare with the big bag of golf clubs. I knew that was going to be a good trip as soon as I saw the golf clubs.”

  “So,” Mason said, “the trip which you made with the woman that you think is the defendant would then have been the third trip of the day.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Now then,” Mason said, “I notice that when you took over this cab your sheet shows that you took it on at trip number nine-sixty-nine.”

  “Well, that’s right if that’s what it shows.”

  “And what would that mean?”

  “That would mean that the man who’d checked out before me had had up to and including trip nine-sixty-eight. My first trip would be nine-sixty-nine.”

  “That would mean the trip to the Jonathan Club.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then your trip to the country club would have been trip nine-seventy.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And your trip with the defendant would have been nine-seventy-one.”

  “I guess so. You’ve got the sheet. I haven’t.”

  “Well, look at it, please,” Mason paid, walking over to the witness and showing him the sheet.

  “Okay, I’m looking at it.”

  “And that was correct? That was trip nine-seventy-one?”

  “That’s correct. Trip nine-seventy-one she is.”

  Mason said, “How does it happen, then, that this receipt you have identified as being the receipt you gave the defendant at the Union Station shows that it is for trip nine-eighty-four?”

  “What?”

  “Just a moment, just a moment,” Hamilton Burger shouted. “Just a moment. Let’s get this straight. Before the witness answers that question, I want to inspect the paper. I object to this method of interrogation. I object to the question as assuming facts not in evidence. I object to it as not being proper cross-examination.”

  “It’s proper cross-examination,” Judge Hoyt said, “but the witness will refrain from answering until the Court and counsel have had an opportunity to examine those papers.”

  Hamilton Burger strode angrily up to stand beside Perry Mason, his thick, powerful fingers all but snatched the paper from the hand of the witness, and he said to the clerk, “Where’s that taxi receipt? Let me take a look at that.”

  “Just a moment,” the judge said, “the Court wants to look at those papers, too, Mr Prosecutor.”

  “Yes, Your Honour, of course, certainly.”

  “Pass them up here, please.”

  Hamilton Burger passed up the trip sheet and the taxicab receipt.