“As I said, between midnight and five o’clock in the morning.”

  “Is the development of rigor a constant factor?” Mason asked.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Normally, within what time limits does it develop?”

  “Within eight to twelve hours.”

  “Eight hours?” Mason asked.

  “Conceivably, yes.”

  “Then, in a body in which rigor mortis was fully developed at seven-thirty in the evening, it is possible, is it not, that death could have occurred as late as ten-thirty in the morning?”

  “Well, it could have, yes.”

  “And that is well within the so-called normal limits?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now then,” Mason said, “isn’t it a fact that there are other factors which hasten the onset of rigor mortis? Isn’t it a fact that where a person has been murdered at a time when he was engaged in physical activity, or in the course of a struggle, rigor may develop much sooner?”

  “I believe that is true.”

  “And temperature is also a factor.”

  “Yes.”

  “There are cases, are there not, where rigor mortis has fully developed almost instantly, Doctor?”

  “Well, within very short times.”

  “Almost instantly?”

  “It depends on what you mean by instantly.”

  “Within a few minutes, say ten or fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Now, Doctor, when you were asked about the time of death and how you fixed it, you stated that there were certain phenomena which were in the nature of clues to the trained forensic pathologist and you mentioned two— rigor mortis and post-mortem lividity. Now, since we have seen that post-mortem lividity develops within one or two hours after death and that in the body that you examined it meant nothing more than that death had taken place in your opinion five hours before, and since it now appears that rigor mortis is a variable factor, I am going to ask you what other factors entered into your mind in fixing the time of death?”

  “There were no other medical factors.”

  “No other medical factors?” Mason asked, his tone reflecting incredulous surprise.

  “None,” Dr. Jasper snapped.

  “Isn’t it generally conceded that estimating the time of death by rigor mortis is apt to lead to incorrect deductions?”

  “I don’t know. I would say that rigor mortis was a certain barometer.”

  “Rather an uncertain barometer, isn’t it, Doctor, since it can appear a few minutes after death, or may be delayed as much as twelve hours?”

  “Well, those are extreme cases.”

  “How do you know that this wasn’t an extreme case?” Mason asked.

  The doctor fidgeted uneasily.

  “Speak up,” Mason said. “How do you know this wasn’t an extreme case?”

  “I don’t,” the doctor admitted.

  “How about body temperature?” Mason asked. “Isn’t that considered the most reliable way of determining the time of death?”

  “Body temperature is a factor, yes.”

  “Perhaps one of the most reliable factors?”

  “It is a factor.”

  “It is quite reliable?”

  “Fairly so. But it varies.”

  “It isn’t subject to as many variations as rigor mortis is, is it?”

  “Well, it depends.”

  “Doctor, I am going to ask you if you didn’t write an article in the Journal of Forensic Medicine, Pathology and Crime Detection entitled, ‘Determining the Time of Death’ and if in that article, which was published in December of last year, you didn’t state that of all the methods of determining the time of death, rigor mortis was perhaps the most generally unreliable and that the drop in body temperature was perhaps the most reliable?”

  The doctor fidgeted on the witness stand. “I don’t remember expressing it in exactly that way,” he said.

  Mason opened his brief case, whipped out a copy of the publication and said, “Perhaps you would like to refresh your memory from reading this, Doctor?”

  “Well, no. I now remember what I said,” the witness admitted. “I believe I did say something like that.”

  “Then why are you trying to build up rigor mortis as a more or less infallible time of death in this case and minimizing the body temperature factor?”

  “I’m not doing any such thing,” the doctor protested indignantly.

  “You have fixed the time of death from two clues which you have stated in your testimony were of value to the .forensic pathologist—postmortem lividity and rigor mortis. Now, what about temperature, Doctor? Did you take the temperature?”

  “I did not take the body temperature.”

  “Oh, you did not?”

  “No, not at that time. The body when I saw it was fully clothed and the only means of taking the body temperature are … well, the body should be unclothed at that time.”

  “And when the body was removed it was clothed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And after the clothes were removed from the body, was the temperature taken?”

  “Apparently it was not,” the doctor admitted. “There was some confusion. Someone thought I had taken the temperature. I thought someone else had. In any event, the temperature was not taken.”

  “So then,” Mason said, “you’re trying to fix the time of death simply by two things: post-mortem lividity and rigor mortis. Now, in your article, Doctor, you stated that rigor mortis was one of the least dependable indications as to the time of death because varying conditions could affect the onset and development of rigor, and you said nothing whatever about post-mortem lividity. You didn’t even mention it as a factor.”

  “Well … no.”

  “Isn’t it a fact, Doctor, that someone blundered, and the body temperature was not taken, and because you wanted to make your testimony sound impressive you mentioned post-mortem lividity as being a factor in enabling you to reach your conclusion as to the time of death? Isn’t it a fact that post-mortem lividity, under these circumstances, is meaningless?”

  “I object,” Ruskin said. “That question is unfair. It —”

  “What’s unfair about it?” Judge Seymour asked.

  “It puts the witness in a bad light.”

  “You are evidently assuming,” Judge Seymour said, “that the answer of the witness will be in the affirmative.”

  “Well, it is quite apparent from the entire course of the examination,” Ruskin said. “I think that the doctor has tried to be very fair here and—”

  “There’s no need for the deputy prosecutor to try and build up the witness in front of the jury at this time,” Mason said. “Let him do that in his argument.”

  “I think the objection will be overruled,” Judge Seymour said, “and there will be no further occasion for argument. Answer the question, Doctor.”

  The doctor shifted his position on the witness stand, then finally said, “I tried to give my testimony to the best of my ability. It is my considered opinion that death took place between midnight and five o’clock in the morning. I have mentioned certain medical factors which entered into my opinion and influenced it.”

  “And isn’t it a fact that you tried to build up your testimony by using the technical term post-mortem lividity simply for the purpose of impressing the Court and the jury?”

  “I used the term because I felt under the circumstances of this case it was proper to use it.”

  “But according to your own testimony it only showed that, in your opinion, the man had been dead more than five hours.”

  “Well, that’s something,” the doctor said.

  “It’s something, Doctor, but how did it happen that you didn’t mention post-mortem lividity when you wrote this article?”

  “I probably didn’t think of it.”

  “Oh, you mean you wrote this article without thinking?”

  “I didn’t have to include everything in it.”

  “It slipped your mind?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Or did you feel that if you mentioned post-mortem lividity in an article of this kind in an authoritative publication of this kind, your contemporaries who were fully familiar with the phenomenon of postmortem lividity would hold you up to ridicule?”

  “Well, it had no place in an article of that sort.”

  “It had no place in an article of that sort,” Mason said, “which was an attempt on your part to cover all of the scientific factors in regard to fixing the time of death.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then why does it have a place in your testimony here?”

  “Because it was a factor. I admit, not an important factor, but a factor.”

  “And simply because it showed in your opinion the man had been dead more than five hours, you immediately used it as a barometer to fix the time of death as being within a bracket of fourteen to nineteen hours before you examined the body?”

  “There were other factors.”

  “Oh, there were?” Mason said. “I asked you to list those factors and you mentioned only rigor mortis and post-mortem lividity.”

  “Those were the medical factors,” the doctor snapped. “There were other factors which influenced my judgment.”

  “Oh, there were other factors.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Such as what?”

  “The physical factors.”

  “And what do you mean by the physical factors?”

  “The time element.”

  “And what do you mean by the time element?”

  “The thundershower, for instance.”

  “I see,” Mason said. “Now we’re beginning to get to the gist of your testimony, Doctor. Because you saw tracks in the soft ground, because you were told what time the thundershower took place, you fixed the time of death in your own mind very largely because of those tracks and what you had been told. And now, when you are called on to give your testimony, you attempt to justify those conclusions, based on hearsay, by bolstering them up with medical jargon.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “But you can’t fix the time of death within definite limits from postmortem lividity?”

  “I’ve already answered that question.”

  “And you can’t fix it by rigor mortis?”

  “It is a factor.”

  “But the main factors in your mind when fixing the time of death were the non-medical factors.”

  “They helped me arrive at my opinion, yes.”

  “And you aren’t an expert in those matters?”

  “I have eyes and can see.”

  “So you fixed the time of death by taking into consideration what you have referred to as the nonmedical factors.”

  “I will say this: that the circumstantial evidence on the ground indicated very definitely and positively that death had taken place before the thunderstorm. Since I found nothing in the medical facts to negative that assumption, I accepted it in my own mind.”

  “Now we’re getting down to the real crux of the matter, Doctor,” Mason said. “I want to be fair with you, but I want you to be fair with me. You actually fixed the time of death in your own mind because of that thundershower and the circumstantial evidence on the ground, and simply because you found no medical evidence which would contradict that conclusion, you went on the stand and swore positively that death occurred between midnight and five o’clock in the morning. Now, let’s be fair. Isn’t that what happened?”

  “Generally, that’s what happened,” Dr. Jasper said, “and despite your attempt to distort my testimony, the fact remains that death occurred between midnight and five o’clock in the morning.”

  “Because of your interpretation of circumstantial evidence rather than medical evidence?”

  “Because of all the factors taken together.”

  “The medical factors standing alone don’t enable you to fix the time of death.”

  “Not standing alone.”

  “In other words, then, the non-medical factors were what influenced you in fixing the time of death, and you regard the medical factors only as corroborating that because they do not contradict it.”

  “If you want to put it that way, yes.”

  “I want to put it that way,” Mason said, “and that’s all.”

  “No further questions on redirect,” Ruskin said wearily.

  Dr. Jasper left the witness stand.

  Ruskin said, “I will call Mrs. Carlotta Theilman to the witness stand.”

  Carlotta came forward, held up her hand and was sworn.

  “You are the divorced wife of the decedent?” Ruskin asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “On the fourth of this month you took the Union Pacific train, The City of Los Angeles, for Las Vegas, did you not?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Why did you go to Las Vegas?”

  “Because I expected to meet my former husband there. I had reason to believe that he wanted to buy certain stock which I had received as part of our divorce settlement.”

  “Had you discussed this matter with your ex-husband, Mrs. Theilman?”

  “Not with him directly, but I had told someone who I thought was acting for him that I would be in Las Vegas on the train that night and if anyone wanted to negotiate with me for my stock I would be willing to negotiate with them, but I would not deal with any agents, dummies, attorneys or brokers. I wanted to deal with the principal, whoever he was.”

  “Did you take that train?”

  “I did.”

  “And were met by the defendant in Las Vegas?”

  “That is right.”

  “Cross-examine,” Ruskin said.

  “Why did you designate Las Vegas, Mrs. Theilman?” Mason asked.

  “Because I felt certain I had been dealing with the agent of my husband. Las Vegas was where our marriage was broken up and I decided I would—Well, I wanted to have the satisfaction of meeting him there.”

  Mason said, “You now weigh considerably less than when your marriage broke up, don’t you? You went on a rigorous campaign of diet and exercise in order to … well, let us say, to get back into the running. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Theilman?”

  “That is right,” she said savagely, “and I knew my husband—I knew him very well indeed. If he had met me in Las Vegas, I would have given that little strumpet a dose of her own medicine. I—”

  “Now, just a minute,” Judge Seymour interrupted. “We won’t have any name calling here, Mrs. Theilman.”

  “I was simply trying to answer the question,” she said, “I … I’m sorry, Your Honor.”

  “I understand exactly how you feel,” Mason said, bowing. “That’s all, Mrs. Theilman. Thank you.”

  Judge Seymour said, “It is past the hour of the afternoon adjournment, gentlemen. I didn’t want to interrupt the cross-examination of this witness. Court will adjourn until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. The jurors will not permit themselves to form or express any opinion as to the merits of the case, nor will they discuss the matter among themselves or permit it to be discussed in their presence. The defendant is remanded to custody. Court will recess until nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

  Mason turned to the officer and said, “I want to talk with my client briefly before she is returned.”

  The officer nodded.

  Mason waited until the courtroom had cleared, then turned to Janice Wainwright.

  “You see what I’m getting at, Janice,” he said. “Your story is going to be that you talked with Morley Theilman after you talked with me on the morning of the fourth. According to the testimony of the prosecution, Theilman had been dead for some four hours at the time you say you talked with him. I simply had to try to demolish their theory of the time element, although perhaps some of the jurors feel that I was unnecessarily savage with the doctor.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “That, however,” Mason said, “doesn’t mean that you were telling the truth.”

  “Mr. Mason, I am telling the truth.”

  “I believe you,” Mason said, “because it is my duty to believe you. As your attorney I am obligated to accept your story and to see that you have your day in court. But the evidence is very much against you, and some of that circumstantial evidence is damning.”

  “Nevertheless, Mr. Mason, I am going to tell you again. I did not go out to that subdivision. I did not see Mr. Theilman from the time he left the office early on the afternoon of the third.”

  Mason said, “I have the uneasy feeling that you’re lying to me, Janice, and if you are, it means you have a one-way ticket to the gas chamber.”

  “I … I can’t help it. I’ve told you the truth.”

  “Now then,” Mason said, “remember this. They subpoenaed the records from our office. They have the numbers of those twenty-dollar bills that were in that suitcase. If they can ever connect you with any of those bills, even one of them, you’re finished. You’re completely sunk.”

  “I certainly understand that, Mr. Mason. They can never connect me with that money. I never touched a dime of it. I did exactly what I told you I did. I put that money in the locker and mailed the key in accordance with Mr. Theilman’s instructions. I never went near the locker again. I—Well, you know that I couldn’t have because you kept the key to the suitcase.”

  “I kept a key to the suitcase,” Mason said. “There was nothing to have prevented you stopping at a locksmith before you came to the office and having a dozen duplicate keys to that suitcase made.”

  “But I didn’t do it.”

  “You say you didn’t do it.”

  “I’ve told you the truth,” she said defiantly.

  “Your car certainly was driven out to that subdivision,” Mason said.

  “The moulage of the tires can’t be coincidental. Your car went out there.”

  “My car did not go out there, Mr. Mason. I tell you I never went out there.”

  “All right, then,” Mason said. “Somebody had to frame you. Somebody took your car out, and that’s pretty unlikely.”

  “I can’t help it. I didn’t take my car out there.”

  “Let’s go back to the fourth,” Mason said. “Now, Mr. Theilman was reported to have disappeared. There was a detective at your office. Where was your car during that time?”