“I claim that I want to have the answer stricken out so I can interpose an objection on the ground that that’s assuming a fact not in evidence.”

  “I think it’s proper cross-examination,” the Judge said. “I’ll let the answer stand.”

  “But that isn’t in accordance with the facts,” Hamilton Burger said. “That’s not …”

  “Hamilton Burger can be sworn and testify if he wants to contradict his own witness,” Mason said.

  “Oh, after all, it’s a petty matter,” Burger yielded with bad grace, sitting down.

  Mason’s voice lost its formality, assumed an easy conversational tone. “Let’s see,” he said casually, “the police came to you first and asked for a description of this woman, didn’t they?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You gave them a description?”

  “Yes, the best I could at the time.”

  “And then they showed you several pictures of the defendant?”

  “Yes.”

  “You studied those pictures carefully?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t just glance at them?”

  “No, I studied them carefully.”

  “Did you tell the police that those were pictures of the woman who had parked the car?”

  “I said there was something familiar about her face.”

  “And what else?”

  “I said she could have been the woman—that it might be her.”

  “You didn’t say positively it was her?”

  “No.”

  “Then later on when you saw the defendant in a line-up you recognized her at once from her pictures, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And when you saw her in that line-up you can’t be absolutely sure whether you picked her out because you remembered her face from the encounter at the parking lot or because of having seen her picture, can you?”

  “Well, of course …”

  “Can you?”

  “Well, it could have been a little of both.”

  “Exactly, and even then you didn’t identify her positively, did you?”

  “Well, I said she looked like someone I’d seen before.”

  Mason smiled at the witness. “That’s all,” he said.

  “Any redirect-examination?” the Court asked.

  “Getting back to what I told you,” Hamilton Burger said, “isn’t it a fact that all I told you was that when you indicated the defendant, you were to point?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s all.”

  “Just a moment,” Mason said as the witness started to leave the stand. “There’s some recross-examination.”

  The witness settled himself.

  “How long were you at Hamilton Burger’s office the time he told you to point to the defendant?”

  “Oh, half an hour I guess.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “Just a moment, Your Honor, just a moment,” Hamilton Burger said. “That’s not proper cross-examination. It’s incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It calls for a privileged communication that has nothing to do with the testimony of the witness.”

  Mason said, “Your Honor, on redirect-examination Hamilton Burger asked him about what was said. That was redirect-examination. Under the familiar rule that when counsel asks a question calling for part of a conversation the other party has the right on recross-examination to ask for all of the conversation, I want to know everything that was said.”

  Hamilton Burger’s face was now the color of raw liver. “Your Honor,” he shouted, “I simply refuse to have confidential conversations pried into in this manner! I have a right in my capacity as District Attorney to investigate all phases of a case and …”

  “But you did ask a question on redirect-examination calling for a part of a conversation,” the Court said, “and this man isn’t a client, but only a witness. The objection is overruled.”

  “Go on,” Mason said. “What did you talk about?”

  “Well, we talked about my testimony.”

  “And what was said?”

  “Well, I told Mr. Burger what I’ve said here.”

  “And what did Mr. Burger say to you?”

  “Well, he told me about pointing, and that’s about all.”

  “Now then,” Mason asked, “wasn’t there something that he told you you didn’t need to mention unless you were specifically asked about it?”

  “Well—yes.”

  “And what was that?” Mason asked.

  “About the woman not carrying a traveling bag.”

  “Oh, I see,” Mason said. “When this woman left the parking lot she was not carrying any traveling bag?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Nothing in her hands?”

  “Nothing except a little leather purse.”

  “You’re certain of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Hamilton Burger told you that you weren’t to say anything about that, didn’t he?”

  “Well, not unless I was asked.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Danvers,” Mason said sarcastically. “That’s all.”

  “No questions,” Hamilton Burger muttered, and then tried to cover his discomfiture by hurriedly calling his next witness.

  That witness was the pilot who testified that he had been hired by a man to fly a woman to Bakersfield, that it had been represented to him that it was necessary for the woman to be at the Pacific Greyhound Bus Depot in Bakersfield by one o’clock in the afternoon. He had agreed to get her there in time and had done so. The woman had been heavily veiled and he hadn’t seen her face, but he remembered the manner in which she was dressed. He had paid some attention to her clothes because of the fact of the veil. He had also particularly noticed the woman’s figure and general appearance.

  “Do you see anyone in this courtroom whose figure and general appearance are about the same as the figure and general appearance of the woman you flew to Bakersfield in the airplane?” Hamilton Burger asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where is she?”

  “If Mr. Burger told you to point, go right ahead and point,” Mason interposed.

  “He didn’t tell me to point,” the witness said, “he just told me I was to say ‘the defendant.’ ”

  There was a burst of laughter from the courtroom.

  Hamilton Burger shouted angrily, “But you had previously seen her in the matron’s office and had told me she looked like the woman. Isn’t that right?”

  “Just a moment,” Mason interposed, “that’s objected to as leading and suggestive, an attempt to cross-examine his own witness, and an attempt on the part of the District Attorney to testify.”

  “It’s leading and suggestive,” the Court said. “It also may be an attempt at cross-examination of your own witness. However, the objection is sustained on the ground of its being leading.”

  “Well, had you seen her before?” Burger asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And that woman was the defendant?”

  “It looked like her.”

  “Cross-examine,” Burger snapped.

  “How many times had you seen the defendant before seeing her in court this time?”

  “Once.”

  “That’s all. Thank you,” Mason said.

  “Just a moment,” Burger shouted. “The witness misunderstood the question. He means that he saw her once for purposes of identification. He saw her twice. Once when he identified her, once when she got in the airplane. That’s right, isn’t it?” Burger said, turning to the witness.

  The calm tranquillity of Mason’s tone was in sharp contrast to that of the District Attorney. “I object, Your Honor,” he said, “on the ground that this is leading, on the ground that it assumes a fact not in evidence, and on the further ground that it is quite palpably an attempt on the part of the District Attorney to coach the witness as to the answer he is to make in response to the question the District Attorney has just asked.”

  “The District Attorney will please confine his statements to direct questions asked of the witness,” the Court ruled.

  “Very well,” Hamilton Burger said, controlling himself with difficulty. He turned to the witness. “When you had previously testified that you had seen the woman once before, you meant—or—well, tell us what you meant.”

  “Oh,” Mason said, “I’ll stipulate that the witness isn’t so stupid that he hasn’t already got the point of the District Attorney’s coaching. I’ll stipulate that he would testify that he meant he had seen her once before for purposes of identification.”

  “I guess that’s it,” the witness said.

  “That’s all,” Burger said.

  “Just a moment,” Mason said. “Before you leave the stand perhaps we should find out a little bit more about this man who made arrangements to charter the airplane. Would you know him if you saw him again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever seen him again?”

  “No.”

  “Now can you describe him a little more particularly?”

  “Well, he was around sixty, somewhere around there, and he seemed to be a little uncertain in his movements. He—I thought he might be drunk but I didn’t smell any liquor on his breath. He may have been drugged or something. He seemed to be sort of feeling his way and—well, I just noticed him, the way he walked and the way he looked, sort of uncertain like.”

  “Was he tall?”

  “No, he was short and thickset and—well, he was around sixty. I don’t remember too much about him. I just took it for granted he was the girl’s father.”

  “Now about this identification. Did you see the defendant in a line-up?”

  “No, just by herself in the matron’s office.”

  “And did Mr. Burger point her out to you?”

  “Answer that by either yes or no,” Burger interposed.

  “No.”

  “Did the police?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, they told me they had the woman for me to identify. They took me into the matron’s office. There was only one woman there except for the matron.”

  “Exactly,” Mason said. “Now didn’t they also tell you that there could be no doubt on earth but that this was the woman you’d taken to Bakersfield, to go in there and identify her, and to be sure you didn’t make any blunder in what you said?”

  “Well, something like that. They told me not to get fainthearted or act like I wasn’t sure, or some smart lawyer would rip my guts out when I got on the stand.”

  “So you said you were sure?”

  “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t sure. I said I thought she was the one. Actually I had to wait until the next day before I was absolutely certain.”

  “And in the meantime, the police kept talking to you?”

  “I’ll say they did.”

  “That’s all,” Mason announced.

  “No further questions,” Burger said. “I’ll call my next witness.”

  The next witness was the taxi driver from Bakersfield who had transported the heavily veiled woman from the airport to the Pacific Greyhound Bus Terminal. He admitted, however, that he could not identify her, that she was heavily veiled, that he had not seen her face, that he had not noticed in particular how she was dressed. He only knew that she was a woman about five feet three, or three and a half, who weighed about a hundred and twenty or a hundred and twenty-five pounds.

  “You have heard the defendant, Myrtle Ingram Fargo, talk?” Hamilton Burger asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And did you notice any dissimilarity between the voice of Mrs. Fargo, the defendant in this case, and the woman whom you transported to the bus depot at Bakersfield?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You may inquire,” Burger said.

  “You didn’t notice any dissimilarity?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Can you pick out any particular points of similarity?”

  “Well, their voices sounded something the same.”

  “But you can’t identify the defendant from her voice as being that woman, can you?”

  “Not absolutely.”

  “You can’t identify her from her voice at all, can you?”

  “Well—just like I said, I can’t notice any points of difference particularly that I can swear to.”

  “In other words,” Mason said, “you, too, have had a talk with Hamilton Burger, haven’t you?”

  “I told him what I knew, sure.”

  “And he asked you if you could identify the defendant from her voice, didn’t he? And you told him that you couldn’t?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “So then he said to you, ‘I’m going to put you on the stand and ask you if there were any particular points of dissimilarity, and you can say that you didn’t notice any points of dissimilarity.’ Isn’t that the way it happened?”

  “Well, I—I don’t exactly remember.”

  “The suggestion that you testify as to whether there were any points of dissimilarity came from Hamilton Burger?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s all,” Mason said.

  Hamilton Burger said, “That’s all. My next witness is Mrs. Newton Maynard, and I hope, Mr. Mason, that you cross-examine her at some length.”

  “That will do,” the Court interposed. “There will be no side comments from counsel.”

  Mason smiled at Burger’s angry countenance.

  As Mrs. Maynard came forward, it was apparent that she had suffered some injury. Her left eye was tightly bandaged. She held up her right hand and settled herself comfortably on the witness stand.

  Hamilton Burger asked her a few preliminary questions, then inquired, “Where were you on the twenty-second day of September of this year?”

  “I was in Los Angeles and then I was in Sacramento; both places on the same day.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Maynard, and how did you go from Los Angeles to Sacramento?”

  “By Pacific Greyhound bus.”

  “And do you know what time you left Los Angeles?”

  “I do. Yes, sir. I left Los Angeles at eight-forty-five.”

  “And what time did you arrive in Sacramento?”

  “At about ten minutes past ten in the evening. We were due in Sacramento at five minutes past ten but we were five minutes late.”

  “Did you on that twenty-second day of September have occasion to talk with the defendant in this case, Myrtle Ingram Fargo?”

  “I did. Yes, sir.”

  “When did you first see her?”

  “I first saw her when she got out of a taxicab at Bakersfield.”

  “Had you seen her before that time?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You were on the bus between Los Angeles and Bakersfield?”

  “I was. Yes, sir.”

  “Was the defendant on that bus?”

  “She was not!”

  “You’re certain of that?”

  “I’m positive, absolutely positive.”

  “If she had been on the bus would you have seen her?”

  “I would have seen her and I would have noticed her. That woman was not on that bus between Los Angeles and Bakersfield. She arrived at the bus depot in Bakersfield wearing a heavy veil and she arrived by taxicab. The cab was driven by the man who has just testified on the witness stand.”

  Mrs. Maynard clamped her lips together in a firm line of self-righteous assurance and glared at Mason as much as to say, “Now, take that. Let’s see you shake my testimony.”

  “Did you talk with the defendant?” Burger asked.

  “I did. Yes, sir.”

  “At some length?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Will you explain to the Court just how that happened, Mrs. Maynard?”

  “Well, I suppose I’m curious. Perhaps I am, but I never was a body to keep to myself. When I travel I feel that I want it to be a broadening experience and you don’t get broadened simply by sitting down and wrapping yourself up in your own personality and …”

  “We understand,” the District Attorney interrupted, “but please let’s get to the point, Mrs. Maynard. Will you tell me just how it happened that …”

  “That’s what I am telling you. Now please don’t interrupt me,” she snapped.

  There were titters throughout the courtroom and the Judge smiled broadly.

  “Go ahead,” Hamilton Burger said lamely, “but try and make your testimony as concise as possible.”

  “We’d save a lot more time if you didn’t interrupt me,” she said truculently. “Now, let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes. I was telling you that when I saw this person get out of the cab all heavily veiled and everything, it made me curious. I watched her and she went in the women’s rest room and when she came out she didn’t have the veil.

  “When the call came to get aboard the bus and I saw that she was going to board the bus, I managed to get next to her in line and started talking with her, and then some passengers got off at Fresno. When we got aboard the bus there at Fresno it just happened that I had an opportunity to get in the seat next to her. I dropped into that seat and we started talking.

  “I’m perfectly willing to admit that I was trying to draw her out. I was curious to find out why she had worn that heavy veil.”

  “Did you ask her?” Hamilton Burger inquired.

  “I tried to but I didn’t have a chance. That is, I started to lead up to the question and she told me with her own lips that she’d been on that bus all the way from Los Angeles and I thought to myself, ‘Why, you little liar, you. You …’ ”

  “Never mind what you thought to yourself,” Burger interrupted, but there was a note of triumphant satisfaction in his voice. “Just say what she told you.”

  “Well, that’s it. I started to ask her something about the trip she was making and wanted to find out how it had happened she had been so heavily veiled and in such a rush to get to the bus depot and …”

  “Well, suppose you tell us, not in generalities, but just as specifically as you can, just how this conversation came up,” Hamilton Burger said.

  “Well, as nearly as I can remember, I said something about I hoped she didn’t think I was trying to pry into her private affairs, but I was naturally curious—and she interrupted me to say that she didn’t mind at all, that she was glad to have someone to talk with, that she’d been seated next to a man coming out from Los Angeles and he’d been a little tipsy. I asked her if he’d been fresh and she said no, just drunk, and she was afraid she’d become intoxicated from the smell of his breath.”