“I don’t think I care to hear the case piecemeal,” Judge Elwell said, “unless there is some particular reason for putting it on in this manner.”

  “I can assure the Court that there is a reason,” Dillon said.

  “Very well. But that doesn’t prevent Counsel from asking this witness any questions he cares to about the condition of the body and I will permit questions concerning the contents of the stomach.”

  Dillon said, “If the Court is going to permit those questions, I may as well go right ahead and show the time of death.”

  “Well, Counsel has asked a question and he’s entitled to an answer,” Judge Elwell said. “The witness will answer the question.”

  “The contents of the stomach,” Dr. Clinton said, “showed green peas, scallops, potatoes, and bread.”

  “In what state of preservation?” Mason asked. “In other words, how far had digestion progressed?”

  “Death had taken place within approximately thirty minutes of the time the meal had been ingested.”

  Judge Elwell said, “There was no objection to that question, Mr. Mason but I think you are probably technically restricted in your cross-examination as to matters which were brought out on direct examination and the physical condition of the body. I understand the prosecutor wants to proceed with evidence showing the time of death.”

  “Very well,” Mason said. “Under those circumstances, I have no further cross-examination at this time.”

  “All right,” Stanley Dillon said, “I may as well go into the time of death. How long had the decedent been dead before your examination?”

  “I would say between twenty-four and thirty-six hours.”

  “Could you make it any closer than that?”

  “Not from a standpoint of accurate evidence, no. I would be somewhat inclined to fix the time of death as approximately twenty-four hours before the body was discovered.”

  “And the body was discovered at about eight-twenty on the evening of the fifth?”

  “As to that, I know only by hearsay. I know that I performed my autopsy at seven o’clock on the morning of the sixth and I would generally fix the time of death as from twenty-four to thirty-six hours previous to my examination.”

  “Can you tell whether the body had been moved after death?”

  “In my opinion, the body had not been moved after death unless it had been moved almost immediately after the fatal shot had been fired.”

  “What causes you to have that opinion, Doctor?”

  “Because of postmortem lividity. After death, the blood becomes discolored and settles in the lower part of the body. In other words, after the heart ceases to function, the forces of gravitation take over and the blood has a tendency to settle in the body and become discolored. There was a well-defined postmortem lividity here, indicating that the body had not been moved-unless it was moved very shortly after the fatal wound had been inflicted.”

  “I think that’s all at this time,” Dillon said.

  “Did you form any opinion as to the caliber of the fatal bullet?” Mason asked.

  “These things are very, very tricky,” Dr. Clinton said. “My personal opinion is that the bullet was a thirty-eight-caliber bullet but the skin is elastic during lifetime and it is difficult without examining the fatal bullet itself to be sure as to its caliber.”

  “And there was no fatal bullet in the body?” Mason asked.

  “No. The bullet had emerged from the upper left chest, as I stated in my earlier testimony.”

  “Thank you. Doctor. That’s all.”

  “Now, then, I’ll recall Lieutenant Tragg,” Dillon said.

  Tragg again took the stand.

  “When did you arrive at 1635 Manlay Avenue, Lieutenant?”

  “At eight forty-seven on the evening of the fifth.”

  “You made an examination of the premises?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you meet the defendant there at that time?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you discuss with her what she had observed and why she had gone there?”

  “Generally, yes.”

  “And, at that time, your inquiries were simply general. You had not determined upon the defendant as a suspect at that time.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Did she tell you anything about her time of arrival?”

  “She said that she had come there with Mr. Perry Mason and Miss Della Street, Perry Mason’s secretary that they had found the woman dead and had promptly called police.”

  “Did she say anything at any time about having been there earlier?”

  “No, sir. She gave us to understand this was her first visit to the place in some time.”

  “Did she say anything to you about having taken a diary or any other personal property from the premises?”

  “On the contrary she said they had left things just as they found them.”

  “Did you try to develop latent fingerprints?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Were you able to develop any?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Were you able to identify any of the latent prints you developed?”

  “Yes, sir. There were fingerprints of the decedent, of course there were fingerprints of some individual who has not been identified and there were fingerprints of a man named Ralph Corning, who is-so to speak-a boyfriend of the decedent and who had been there earlier in the week but who was out of town on the third, fourth and fifth.”

  “Any other fingerprints?”

  “Those of the defendant,” the witness said, “and some others that were smudged—but many good fingerprints of the defendant.”

  “Where did you find them?”

  “Generally, we found them on the bureau drawers, on the doorknob, on the woodwork, on the glass panel of the front door.”

  “Inside or outside?”

  “Inside. We also found latent fingerprints of the defendant where she had pressed her hands against the glass of the front window.

  “I have here a set of photographs all properly identified by markings upon the backs of the pictures, showing the various localities in which we found the fingerprints in question and some enlargements of the fingerprints themselves.”

  “Did you at any time, at any place,, find a diary which apparently had been kept by the decedent?”

  “We did yes, sir.”

  “Where did you find that?”

  “We found it in the post office at the General Delivery window on the morning of the sixth.”

  “Did you identify it at that time?”

  “No, sir we simply asked for mail that was addressed to the defendant, Ellen Adair. When we found that there was such mail, we secured a search warrant then we made arrangements with the federal post office authorities and eventually got an envelope open which contained a diary in the handwriting of the decedent.”

  “What was the address on that envelope?”

  “Ellen Adair, General Delivery.”

  “Do you know whose handwriting that was in?”

  “I cannot qualify as an expert on handwriting,” Lieutenant Tragg said, “but I have had some experience. The handwriting generally appears to be that of the defendant. I believe it has been submitted to a handwriting expert who will testify later on.”

  “You made photographs of the location of the body?”

  “We did. Here they are.”

  “We ask that all these photographs be introduced in evidence,” Dillon said, “and that the clerk be instructed to give them appropriate exhibit numbers.”

  “So ordered,” Judge Elwell said.

  “Did you find a revolver in the possession of the defendant?”

  “There was a thirty-eight-caliber revolver found in the glove compartment of the defendant’s automobile.”

  “Was that revolver loaded?”

  “There were five full cartridges and one empty cartridge chamber in the cylinder.”

  “No exploded cartridge in that one chamber?”

  “No, it was empty. The shell case had been removed.”

  “You personally made tests with that gun?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What was your opinion as to when it had been last fired?”

  “It had been fired within three days of the time we picked it up.”

  “How did you determine that?”

  “Chemical analysis of the residue of cartridge primer, residue of gas, condition of the barrel, and the smell of exploded smokeless powder.”

  “I think you may inquire on cross-examination,” Dillon said.

  Mason said, “There was no bullet found in the body?”

  “No, sir.”

  “And no bullet found in the room?”

  “No, sir.”

  “But the bullet had gone entirely through the body of the decedent?”

  Lieutenant Tragg, who had evidently been anticipating this series of questions and was fully prepared for them, smiled affably. “Yes, sir. This was one of those cases of which, unfortunately, there are too many-where there is no recovery of the fatal bullet.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Mason asked. “What do you mean there are altogether too many such cases?”

  Tragg went on glibly with his explanation. “The average cartridge case,” he said, “contains powder which, upon ignition, is used as a propellant. The amount of powder is such that in the average weapon with a barrel of three to five inches the explosive energy is almost all expended in forcing a bullet through the body of a human being, so that quite frequently we find cases where the bullet has gone entirely through the body but has been stopped by the elasticity of the skin when it starts to emerge from the inner tissues and the bullet is trapped just beneath the skin of the decedent.

  “At other times there is just enough propellant to push the bullet through the outer skin and then the bullet does not leave the immediate proximity but is trapped within the clothing of the decedent. It either falls out unnoticed in the vehicle which takes the decedent to the morgue or it is spilled out someplace else in the course of transit. Perhaps it may fall unnoticed to the floor of the autopsy room.”

  “You say it can be trapped in the clothes,” Mason said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “However, in this case,” Mason said, “the decedent was wearing no clothes which could conceivably have trapped a bullet. Is that right?”

  “Generally speaking, that is correct,” Tragg said, “but, of course, numerous other things could have happened to the bullet.”

  “What, for instance?”

  “The bullet could have just emerged from the skin of the upper left chest of the decedent, fallen to the floor, and been kicked around by some of the first people who were on the scene.”

  “Officers?” Mason asked.

  Tragg said grimly, “I said the first people who were on the scene.”

  “And where would the bullet have been kicked to?”

  “It could have been kicked under a bureau or under the bed or it could have been picked up.”

  “Why would anyone have picked up a fatal bullet?” Mason asked.

  Tragg smiled and said affably, “So that it couldn’t be fitted to the fatal gun.”

  “That, of course, is surmise on your part,” Mason said.

  “You’re asking for surmises,” Tragg told him. “There is also the possibility that the bullet could have been in the pool of coagulated blood which was on the floor and which was scraped up in its entirety and disposed of. The bullet could also have fallen out on the stretcher on which, the body was taken to the car that went to the morgue Then when the body was slid into the wagon the stretcher could have been handled in such a way that the bullet rolled off and fell to the lawn, and since the lawn was soft and muddy the bullet might have been trampled into the ground.”

  Mason said, “Was any search made for the bullet after it appeared that it was not in the body?”

  Tragg smiled. “We tore everything to pieces inside that room. We looked in every bureau drawer, we shook out every article of clothing that was hanging in the closet, we went through every inch of wall space. We even looked in the upholstery and at the drapes.”

  “You say the drapes. Were they pulled?”

  “Yes. The decedent was evidently getting ready to take a bath and was undressing at the time of her death. The drapes were drawn, the windows were closed and locked from the inside.”

  “What about the ceiling?” Mason said. “If the gun had been held down on the floor and the course of the bullet ranged upward, the bullet might have penetrated the ceiling.”

  “We searched that thoroughly,” Tragg said. “We made a very thorough search. We were unable to find the bullet.”

  “So you can’t tell that the gun which you found in the defendant’s automobile was the fatal gun?”

  “We can’t prove it absolutely—the way we could have if we had recovered the fatal bullet,” Tragg said “but we are able to prove it by circumstantial evidence. The vacant space in the cylinder from which a cartridge had been removed, the fact that the gun had recently been fired, the fact that the fatal bullet was evidently a thirty-eight-caliber bullet-all of these are circumstances… significant circumstances.”

  Mason said, “You have heard the testimony of the autopsy surgeon that the decedent could hardly have moved after the bullet entered her body, that death was practically instantaneous.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yet there was a gun found underneath the defendant’s body.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The defendant’s own gun.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have you in your investigations found how that gun came to be in that position?”

  “No, sir it could have been placed there by someone who took it from a bureau drawer and then pushed it under the body after the decedent met her death.”

  “Or conceivably,” Mason said, “the decedent could have been holding it in her hand, pointing it at someone whom she was threatening or someone who had been threatening her, and for the moment had her attention distracted and—”

  “And she turned her back,” Tragg supplemented with a grin, “on another person who was holding a thirty-eight-caliber revolver in a threatening position.”

  “Exactly,” Mason said.

  “I suppose something of that sort is conceivable,” Lieutenant Tragg said, “but I would hardly consider it within the realm of possibility.”

  “In this dairy which you recovered,” Mason said, “did you find any significant passages?”

  “Lots of them.”

  “Anything dealing with the defendants”

  “Yes, there were two entries in which the decedent stated that she had collected from Ellen Adair and that contributions were becoming exceedingly and progressively difficult.”

  “That’s all,” Mason said abruptly. “I have no further cross-examination.”

  “Call Maxine Edfield to the stand,” Dillon said.

  “What is the purpose of this witness?” Judge Elwell asked.

  “To show motivation, Your Honor.”

  “Very well, I’ll hear this witness,” Judge Elwell said, “but as you yourself pointed out, Mr. Prosecutor, this is just a preliminary hearing for the purpose of determining whether there are reasonable grounds for believing that, first, a crime was committed and, second, the defendant was connected with that crime.

  “This is not a hearing before a jury where the prosecution is called upon to prove its case beyond all reasonable doubt and I may state that, as far as this Court is concerned, the evidence of that diary”s having been removed and mailed in an envelope addressed to the defendant, coupled with the evidence of the gun in the glove compartment of defendant’s car, is sufficient to warrant an order holding the defendant over.”

  “I think, if the Court pleases, we would like to either introduce evidence or argue the case,” Mason said.

  “I don’t see what there is to argue,” Judge Elwell said. “At this time we aren’t dealing with the credibility of witnesses. The law is that all the testimony of the prosecution is to be taken at its face value for the purpose of this hearing.”

  “Am I to be precluded from arguing the case?”

  “No, not at all,” Judge Elwell said testily. “I am simply trying to tell you that your argument may not do much good, and I am trying to expedite the hearing. If the deputy prosecutor feels that this witness can show motivation, I will be willing to hear at least some testimony directed to this point.

  “Certainly the prosecution doesn’t intend to disclose its entire case at this point-only enough to have an order binding the defendant over for trial in the Supreme Court. You may go ahead, Mr. Prosecutor. Question this witness. What is her name?”

  “Maxine Edfield.”

  “Very well,” Judge Elwell ruled, “go ahead with your examination.”

  Maxine Edfield seemed bursting with a desire to tell her story and, from the first question asked by the prosecutor, launched into a long dissertation.

  “Do you,” the prosecutor asked, “know Ellen Adair, the defendant, and, if so, how long have you known her?”

  “I know the defendant,” Maxine said. “She is now going by the name of Elka Adair. When I knew her she was Ellen Calvert, and that is her real name. At that time I was very friendly with her, and she was keeping company with a man by the name of Harmon Haslett, who was the son of Ezekiel Haslett, who was the founder and owner of the Cloverville Spring and Suspension Company.

  “At that time she was being intimate with young Haslett, and when he began to cool off she decided to pretend to be pregnant and—”

  “Now, just a minute, just a minute!” Judge Elwell interrupted. “I think we’d better go ahead by question and answer and give opposing counsel a chance to object.”

  “Let her go, as far as we’re concerned,” Perry Mason said. “I think I can clarify the situation with a few questions on cross-examination, but, as far as her story is concerned, she has told it before and I have heard it. If it will expedite matters to have her tell it now, the defense is perfectly willing.”

  “Very well,” Judge Elwell ruled “there’s a lot of hearsay here.”