“Then that is a matter for the defense itself to bring out.”

  “I know of no rule of law which says so, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said. “It is a fact in the case. The bias of a witness is always an important factor which may be shown. I have been accused by indirection of suppressing some evidence in this case. I don’t intend to suppress any more.”

  “The defense can bring out any matter of bias if it so chooses,” Judge Maxwell said.

  “Certainly it may, Your Honor, but I don’t know that there is any rule of law which provides that the facts of the case which are in favor of the defense can only be brought out by the defense and those which are in favor of the prosecution be brought out only by the prosecution. If that is the ruling of the Court, then I want the jurors to understand that there can be no possible censure upon the district attorney’s office because the prosecution waited for the defense to bring out these facts concerning the glancing bullet—that is, the alleged glancing of the bullet.”

  “The situation is somewhat different there,” Judge Maxwell said. “I think it would hardly be expedient for counsel to raise that question at this time. In the one case the facts are known for the defense, which has the opportunity to bring them out if it desires. In the other case the facts were apparently in the exclusive control of the prosecution.”

  “But the defense nevertheless discovered them and brought them out.”

  “Due to skill on the part of the interrogator,” Judge Maxwell snapped. “The present question is different. I don’t think there is any distinct analogy.”

  “I contend that it is exactly the same in the eyes of the law.”

  Judge Maxwell looked down at Mason. “What is your position on this, Mr. Mason?”

  “I haven’t any, Your Honor.”

  “You mean you consent to the question?”

  “No sir. I do not. I am simply willing to let the record speak for itself.”

  “Of course, if you raise no objection to the question, that is another matter.”

  “I am not objecting and I am not consenting, Your Honor. I believe that the control of the examination of the witness is in the discretion of the Court.”

  “But where no objection is made the Court is not called upon to make objections for one of the parties, subject, of course, to the fact that the proof must be kept within reasonable limits of relevancy.”

  Hamilton Burger said, “Your Honor, I would like to read to the Court an excerpt from Jones on Evidence, Second Edition, page one thousand and fifty, where the author says as follows: ‘It is always competent to show that a witness is hostile to the party against whom he is called, that he has threatened revenge, or that a quarrel exists between them. A jury would scrutinize more closely and doubtingly the evidence of the hostile than that of an indifferent or a friendly witness …’ ”

  “Exactly,” Judge Maxwell said. “There can be no question of that. That is elemental law. The Court needs no authority on that point. This question is entirely different.”

  “If the Court will permit me to go on reading, I think that the authority covers this very question,” Hamilton Burger said. “I read that portion of the law in order to make certain that there could be no confusion in the minds of my listeners as to that which was to follow, inasmuch as there is no confusion on the part of the author of the text. In other words, the author was careful to keep the two points segregated.”

  “Go ahead,” Judge Maxwell said impatiently. “What follows?”

  “There follows this statement,” Hamilton Burger said, pausing to read impressively, “ ‘hence it is always competent to show the relations which exist between the witness and the party against, as well as the one for whom he is called.’ ”

  Hamilton Burger sat down.

  “Let me see that book,” Judge Maxwell demanded.

  Hamilton Burger took the law book forward to the bench. “An old edition, Your Honor, but one that is most suitable for carrying in court. I prefer it to the more voluminous …”

  “No apology necessary,” Judge Maxwell said. “Jones on Evidence is a standard authority. Let me read that. I … yes … there’s a citation … two citations … very well, in the absence of objection on the part of the defense I will permit the evidence to be introduced.”

  Hamilton Burger smiled triumphantly. “Answer the question, Mrs. Lacey.”

  “I am suing Mr. Perry Mason and Mr. Paul Drake for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for defamation of character because they claimed to the officers that I had had a man in my bedroom, that I was shielding Scott Shelby after his murder and that the man was not actually dead, whereas in fact I hadn’t seen him for more than twelve hours prior to the time of his death.”

  “You may cross-examine,” Burger said triumphantly.

  “Ah, yes,” Mason said. “On that last question, Mrs. Lacey, the ‘accusation’ I believe was that because a wet blanket and a pair of men’s shoes that were soaking wet with water had been found in your garage the officers should investigate to see if perhaps some man who had been in the water had not been riding in your automobile.”

  “Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “I object to that as not being proper cross-examination. Counsel can show bias if he wants to but this case certainly is no place to try the merits of the suit for defamation of character.”

  “I am not asking to try the case on the merits,” Mason said. “I am merely asking the witness as to the grounds of the communication made to the officers and the nature of that communication. Obviously there cannot be as much resentment for a communication that was founded upon fact as for one which was made up of whole cloth.”

  “That is the danger of this thing,” Judge Maxwell said irritably. “The inquiry has the tendency to go far afield. I have permitted, over my better judgment, counsel for the prosecution to prove that a witness testifying for the prosecution is biased against the defense. Now then, under cross-examination, counsel for the defense certainly should be entitled to go farther into the question of bias than if counsel for the defense had been the one to bring it out. In that case, if the witness had made an answer which had shown bias, there would have been no necessity for further questions; but in view of the fact that this was brought out on direct examination counsel for the defense now has the right to a most searching inquiry.”

  “Exactly, Your Honor,” Mason said. “Which was why I didn’t object to the question which the prosecution asked, although I thought that it was rather irrelevant.”

  “I still think it was irrelevant,” the judge said. “But I have permitted it, and in view of the fact that it was permitted on direct examination I see no alternative but to give you every latitude on cross-examination. However, it is approaching the hour of the evening adjournment, gentlemen.”

  “If the Court will bear with me just another five or ten minutes,” Mason said, “I think perhaps we can conclude this phase of the examination.”

  “Very well.”

  “Can you answer that question?” Mason asked.

  She said, “I don’t know what you told the officers.”

  “But you do allege in your complaint that you know.”

  “That allegation is on information and belief,” Hamilton Burger said.

  “But the witness does know that there actually was a wet blanket, a soaking wet blanket, found in the garage.”

  “She’d used it to carry ice in,” Burger said irritably.

  “Would you mind holding up your right hand?” Mason asked the district attorney.

  “What do you mean?”

  Mason smiled. “If you’re going to testify in place of this witness, I’d like to have you sworn.”

  There was a titter in the courtroom. Hamilton Burger’s face turned red.

  “Proceed, gentlemen,” the Court said. “Counsel will refrain from personalities but on the other hand the witness will be permitted to answer questions without interpolation by counsel.”

  “There was such a wet blanket in your garage?” Mason asked.

  “Yes. I used it to wrap ice in,” the witness said angrily.

  “And a pair of men’s shoes that were also soaking wet?”

  “My husband’s shoes,” she said. “I guess a woman has the right to have her husband’s shoes in her garage if she wants.”

  “He was your husband at that time?”

  “No. We were married four days later.”

  “Exactly. But you do admit that a soaking wet blanket and a pair of men’s shoes that were also soaking wet were found concealed in a corner of your garage the morning after the murder?”

  The jurors were leaning forward now, their eyes sharp with interest and perhaps a faint trace of suspicion. Hamilton Burger, distinctly uncomfortable, shifted his position and the swivel chair squeaked a protest. As the witness hesitated, the district attorney half arose as though preparing to make an objection, but then subsided and settled back in his chair as he could think of no appropriate manner of coping with the situation which had developed.

  The witness said angrily, “If you want to know the facts instead of making a lot of nasty insinuations, Mr. Mason, I’ll tell you the facts.”

  “Go right ahead,” Mason invited.

  “Your Honor,” Burger protested, “I think this is most improper.”

  “I don’t,” Judge Maxwell said. “The witness testifies to bias on direct examination. Counsel now on cross-examination is questioning a witness who is admittedly and concededly hostile, not only from an academic, technical standpoint, but from a most real one. Inasmuch as the cause of that hostility and bias was deliberately brought out by the prosecution on its direct examination, I see no reason for curtailing the defense in its cross-examination on that point.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Mason said. “I feel personally that I am entitled to have these facts brought out.”

  “I’m the one who is entitled to have them brought out,” the witness said angrily. “I went on a picnic with the man I was going to marry. I went out shortly after noon of the day of that yacht trip and I stayed out until four or five o’clock that afternoon, and I have pictures here to prove it.”

  “Indeed?” Mason said, “I’d be interested in those pictures.”

  “If the Court please!” Burger protested.

  “Oh, let’s have the pictures. Let’s get it over with,” Judge Maxwell said impatiently. “You opened the door for all this, Mr. Burger, and I’m not going to slam it in the face of the witness on the one hand, or the counsel for the defense on the other; not after the manner in which you deliberately opened it. Go ahead. Let’s get the whole story.”

  Mason gravely took the pictures which the witness handed him.

  “You can see in those photographs,” the witness said, “that my husband—the man shown in this picture—is standing on a raft. He got his feet wet getting on and off that raft. It was something that he made himself out of a board and some sticks. And here’s the blanket with the ice on it. We carried the ice in a blanket and carried it over in the blanket to the place where we were having a picnic.”

  “Why in a blanket?” Mason asked.

  “Did you ever try to carry ice in your bare hands, Mr. Mason?” the witness asked acidly.

  There were smiles in the courtroom.

  “And after your picnic?” Mason asked.

  “After the picnic I was with my husband.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until I had to go to the train to meet my mother. And my mother stayed with me the entire night.”

  Mason glanced at the clock. “I take it that the Court now wishes to adjourn until tomorrow morning?”

  Judge Maxwell nodded. He was plainly angry with the district attorney for the manner in which he had introduced the bias of the witness in an attempt to arouse the sympathies of the jury and equally irritated at Perry Mason for the manner in which he had exploited that blunder on the part of the district attorney. He said, “Court is about to take a recess. Tomorrow is Saturday, and there will be no session of the Court until Monday morning at ten o’clock. The jury will remain in the custody of the sheriff and will not converse about this case, discuss it in any way among themselves, or permit others to discuss it in their presence. They will refrain from forming or expressing any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant until the case is finally submitted to them. Court is adjourned.”

  The judge got up and stalked angrily away into chambers.

  Burger glowered across at Mason. “Satisfied, I trust?” he said sarcastically.

  Mason grinned at him. “Go ahead and open doors and I’ll stick my foot in them,” he promised.

  “You’ve got your foot in it now,” Burger said angrily, started to say something else, then got up and stormed out of the courtroom.

  Mason said to the deputy sheriff who had Marion Shelby in charge, “Just a minute before you take her back. I want to ask her a couple of questions.”

  The deputy sheriff nodded, withdrew a few paces.

  Mason leaned forward, said in a low tone to Marion Shelby, “The answer to this may be very, very important. Are you absolutely certain that the man you saw fall overboard was your husband?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Did you see his features?”

  “Not when he was falling, but after he was in the water.”

  “You are certain it was your husband?”

  “Absolutely positive.”

  “There was enough light so that you could see plainly?”

  “Yes.”

  “You heard his voice?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was your husband’s voice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now then, be very careful about this. Was your husband moving?”

  “Yes. He was moving. He was struggling in the water in a peculiar way.”

  “Lying on his back or on his stomach?”

  “Lying on his back.”

  “So you couldn’t see the back of his neck?”

  “No, only his face.”

  “And you’re certain he was moving?”

  “Of course he was moving. He was making fighting motions with his hands and legs, kicking and struggling, not the way a man would who was strong and healthy but as though he had been … as though he’d been hit on the head. I think that blow on the head really has something to do with it.”

  “And he was alone down there in the water? There was no one with him?”

  “No one with him. No.”

  “But there was an overhang to the bow of the yacht. You couldn’t see what was under the bow?”

  “No, I guess not. My husband was swept underneath that overhang by the current and out of sight. I thought he was drifting down the starboard side. He seemed to be heading in that direction. But when I ran down that side—well, you know, he’d gone down the port side.”

  “And you had heard the sound of the shot before you reached the bow of the boat and looked down into the water?”

  “Yes. That shot took place just after my husband fell or was dragged overboard.”

  “You think he may have been dragged overboard?”

  “There was something very peculiar about the way he was standing and swaying back and forth. It was as though something was pulling him from down in the water, some force that he seemed to be struggling against. He was wrestling … wrestling with an invisible antagonist.”

  Mason said, “It might help your case a lot, Mrs. Shelby, if the facts of the matter were that your husband was not struggling when you saw him in the water after that shot was fired. Perhaps he was just lying limp but the current was moving his arms and legs so that it appeared there might have been some gentle motion.”

  “It wasn’t a gentle motion. He was kicking. He was trying to fight.”

  Mason said, “You realize the obvious implications of having the fatal wound caused by a bullet fired from this gun?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Well,” Mason said, “think it over. You don’t have to go on the stand yet.”

  “You want me to change my testimony, don’t you, Mr. Mason?”

  Mason said somewhat wearily, “I want you to tell the truth, that’s all. But if you are lying, I warn you that the lie is very apt to send you to the death cell.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m not going to change my story. I told the truth and I’m sticking with it. The truth is the truth, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “If it’s the truth, that’s all there is to it,” Mason said, and his voice showed that he was suddenly tired. “Now let’s find out a little more about that gun. It’s your husband’s gun?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How long had he owned it?”

  “I don’t know. He’d had it ever since I knew him.”

  “Did he carry it?”

  “He didn’t, at first, but the last couple of months he’d been carrying it.”

  “Know why?”

  “No.”

  “Some new enemy perhaps?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Was he carrying it with him that last day—the twelfth?”

  “Yes. It was in his hip pocket when he went to bed. He took it out of his pocket and put it on the top of the dresser.”

  Mason thought that over. “And he asked you to pick up the gun and bring it to him when he telephoned?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, since he’d been carrying it, there must have been someone he feared?”

  “I guess so, yes. One other thing Mr. Mason, he’d shot the gun the day before … no, two days before.”

  Mason’s eyes showed quick interest. “How do you know?”

  “It was empty when he took it out of his pocket on the night of the tenth. He opened a drawer, took out a box of shells and reloaded it.”

  “The deuce he did! Did you ask for an explanation?”

  “No. I never asked him for explanations. I’d got over that.”

  Mason frowned. “Suppose he was practicing?”

  “I suppose that must have been it.”

  “All six chambers were empty?”

  “Yes. He reloaded them all.”

  “Then he must have fired one more shot after that. There was one empty shell in the gun when you picked it up off the bedside stand.”