“I’ll limit the question to that time.”
“Then my answer is, maybe a dozen.”
“And did these bodies have marks on the throat like those found on Mrs. Pherson?”
“Similar.”
“Marks on the throats of maybe a dozen victims of strangulation similar to those found on that of Mrs. Pherson, who, in your opinion, died of manual strangulation. Is that right?”
“Well, I—”
“Or fairly right? Or even a little bit right?”
The district attorney was on his feet again. “Once more this witness is being badgered.”
“You have been warned previously, Mr. Donnelly,” the judge said. “Continued disregard of the court’s warnings could result in contempt charges, a fact of which you must be aware.”
“Yes, Your Honor. But I don’t consider what I said to be badgering.”
“In this courtroom, Mr. Donnelly, it’s what I consider that’s important.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge frowned. He had an itch between his shoulder blades which was impossible to scratch, even if he hadn’t been on the bench, and an itch inside his head as well, caused by the change in Donnelly. In previous trials Donnelly had gotten away with murder — in every sense of the word — by remaining scrupulously polite, smoothing the edges of even his sharpest questions with “if you please,” “by your leave,” “begging your permission.” He was like an expert skater gliding across the ice so quickly it didn’t have time to break. That was changed now, not a great deal but enough to be apparent to someone who’d seen him in action previously. He was still skating, but there were cracks in the ice.
Donnelly continued his cross-examination. “Dr. Woodbridge, I would like at this point to examine another of your opinions — that is, that Mrs. Pherson’s bruises were inflicted before death. You stated your belief that the bruises were premortem, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Occurring before death?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible for bruises to occur postmortem, after death?”
“When the heart has stopped pumping blood through the vascular system, the blood will obey the laws of gravity and settle in the most depressed areas of the body and the surrounding skin will appear bruised.”
“Then your answer is yes?”
“A qualified yes.”
“Is it possible for the bruises on Mrs. Pherson’s throat to have occurred after death?”
“I don’t see how it would—”
“I didn’t ask whether you saw how. I asked if it was possible.”
“It’s possible but not probable.”
The doctor’s tic had become more noticeable and almost as regular as the tick of a clock.
“Suppose we accept the idea that the bruises occurred before death,” Donnelly said. “How long before death?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could the bruises, in fact, have been on Mrs. Pherson’s throat before she even came on board the Bewitched?”
“It’s possible.”
“Can you think of anything to rule this out?”
“Well, for one thing, she was seen by a number of people, at the hotel, in her suite, in the bar, at the desk, as well as by the crew of the Bewitched And none of them, to my knowledge, has mentioned seeing such bruises.”
“Now, without bothering the clerk to bring back some of the pertinent exhibits, could you indicate on your own throat the relative position of the bruises on Mrs. Pherson’s throat?”
“How do you want me to do that?”
“With your thumb and forefinger.”
“They were approximately here.”
“Let the record show,” Donnelly said, “that Dr. Woodbridge is indicating two areas underneath the collar of his shirt.”
The doctor’s hand dropped back into his lap like a wounded bird.
“Do you have any bruises on your throat, Dr. Woodbridge?”
“No.”
“Would I be able to see them if you had?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They would be covered by my collar.”
“Do you know what Mrs. Pherson was wearing when she left the hotel?”
“No.”
“What was she wearing when you first saw her?”
“Nothing.”
It was a simple word, stating a fact already known to the audience, but it had a curiously shocking effect. There were sharp intakes of breath and uneasy stirrings, as if the woman had been stripped of her clothes before their eyes.
“Under what circumstances is an autopsy routinely performed?”
“When a person who has not previously been ill is found dead, or when there are obvious signs of violence, either self- or other-inflicted.”
“When a victim of violence is brought into your lab, what is the initial procedure?”
“Certain steps are taken which will help the police identify the victim.”
“Such as?”
“The body is measured and weighed, fingerprints are taken, and, of course, photographs.”
“Were these things done in the case of Mrs. Pherson?”
“Yes.”
“And what were the measurements of her body?”
“I’ll have to consult my notes.”
“Please do.”
The neat sheaf of papers Woodbridge had brought into the courtroom the previous day was now beginning to look as crumpled and untidy as the doctor himself. “Do you want me to read my original notes or the somewhat amplified and edited version of my secretary?”
“Whatever’s shorter.”
“ ‘The body is that of a female Caucasian, well cared for, age approximately forty, blue eyes, brown hair, five feet two inches in height, a hundred and nine pounds by weight.’ ”
“Then she was a small woman?”
“Smaller than average, yes.”
“Before you make any actual incisions in the body, are other tests done?”
“Blood samples are taken.”
“For what purpose?”
“To determine whether the person was suffering from acute or chronic disease.”
“Anything else?”
Woodbridge threw a glance at the district attorney which was neatly intercepted by Donnelly. He ran with it.
“Dr. Woodbridge, was one of the tests performed in order to establish the presence of alcohol in Mrs. Pherson’s bloodstream?”
“Yes.”
“What was the result?”
“Point-one-four percent.”
“What does this mean?”
“That she’d had a few drinks.”
“It’s been well established that the woman was drinking. What is important for the jurors to know is how much.”
“I can only give you the figure my tests indicated.”
“Very well. I have here, Dr. Woodbridge, a chart issued to clarify the actual meaning of a blood alcohol test. Will you please examine this chart, Doctor? It consists of only a single page.”
Donnelly took the page to the witness box and stood while the doctor read it. About four minutes passed. During this time there was no noise in the room, but the silence seemed to be filled with vibrations. It was the kind of silence peculiar to a courtroom, a pulse of expectation.
“Are you familiar with this chart, Dr. Woodbridge?”
“Not this particular one. I’ve seen others like it.”
“Can you explain its purpose to the jury?”
“The chart shows how many drinks a person of a certain size must consume over a certain period of time in order to reach a certain level of blood alcohol.”
“Then body size is a determining factor in the test results?”
“Yes.”
“Will you please study the chart and see if the figure point-one-four percent occurs?”