"Under stipulation with the counsel who is representing Carl Montaine," said Perry Mason, "the deposition will be somewhat informal. It will be taken before Miss Della Street, my secretary, who is a notary public as well as an efficient shorthand reporter. Counsel for Carl Montaine and myself will be present. The deposition is a purely civil matter. I do not understand that Counselor Lucas will seek to be present. If…"
"I've got a right to be present if I want to," thundered Lucas.
"You have not," said Perry Mason. "This is purely a civil matter. You do not now appear as civil counsel for Montaine. Therefore it has been necessary for him to retain other counsel. The other counsel agrees with me that this is purely a civil matter, and…"
Judge Markham's gavel again banged on the desk.
"Gentlemen," he said, "this discussion is entirely out of order. Court will suit your convenience tomorrow in the taking of the deposition, Mr. Mason. Court is adjourned."
John Lucas, gloating in the triumph of a day during which he had built up a case against the defendant which Perry Mason had been unable to shake, smiled sneeringly at Mason and said in a voice loud enough to be heard over much of the courtroom, "Well, Mason, you seem to lack much of your usual fire today. You didn't get very far crossexamining the Crandalls about the doorbell, did you?"
Mason said politely, "You forget that I have not finished with my crossexamination."
The answering laugh of John Lucas was taunting.
Perry Mason stopped at a telephone booth and telephoned the hotel where C. Phillip Montaine, the Chicago millionaire, was registered. "Is Mr. Montaine in his room?" he asked.
After a moment he was assured that Mr. Montaine had not as yet returned to his room. "When he returns," said Perry Mason, "please give him a message from Perry Mason. Tell him that if he will arrange to be at my office at seventhirty tomorrow evening I think I can arrange matters with him in regard to a property settlement in his son's divorce case. Will you see that he gets that message?"
"Yes," said the telephone clerk.
Perry Mason rang Della Street. "Della," he said, "I left a message for C. Phillip Montaine at his hotel, saying that if he would meet me at my office at seventhirty tomorrow night I would arrange a complete property settlement between Rhoda and Carl. I don't know whether he will get that message. Will you ring him this evening and make sure?"
"Yes, chief," she said. "You won't be coming to the office?"
"No."
"Listen, chief," she told him, "Carl Montaine can't come to your office. The district attorney is keeping him in custody, isn't he?"
Perry Mason chuckled.
"That's right, Della."
"But you want C. Phillip Montaine to be here anyway, is that it?"
"Yes."
"Okay," she said. "I'll see that he gets the message."
That night the city editor of the Chronicle, examining the transcript of proceedings for the day, with the eagle eye of a newspaper man who had seen Perry Mason in action and who knew that lawyer's masterly technique of placing bombs in the prosecution's case timed to explode with deadly effect at the most inopportune moments, was impressed by the peculiar phraseology of Perry Mason's questions concerning the doorbell. He sent two of his best reporters out with instructions to corner the attorney and get an interview from him in regard to the significance of that particular phase of the case. The reporters, however, scoured the city and were unsuccessful. Not until court convened the next morning did Perry Mason put in a public appearance. Then, freshly shaven, with a certain jauntiness in his manner, he stepped through the swinging doors of the courtroom, precisely five seconds before court was called to order.
Judge Markham, taking his place on the bench, observed that the jurors were all present, the defendant was in court, and instructed Mrs. Crandall to once more take the witness stand for crossexamination.
Perry Mason addressed himself to the court. "Your Honor," he said, "it was agreed between counsel yesterday that the doorbell taken from the apartment where Gregory Moxley met his death would be received in evidence. I desire to crossexamine this witness concerning the sound of that doorbell, and have had an electrician prepare a set of dry batteries, properly wired with clamps which can be adjusted to the bell, so that I can ring the bell itself in court, so as to test the recollection of the witness as to the manner in which it was rung. The Court will remember that yesterday the husband of this witness testified generally to the sound of the bell as having been 'an entirely different type of bell. In the first place, there was more of a whirring sound to it. In the second place, it rang at longer intervals than a telephone bell rings.
"I have quoted, your Honor, from the testimony of Mr. Crandall, as it has been written up by the court reporter. Obviously, such testimony is merely the conclusion of a witness, and, in view of the fact that Mrs. Crandall has given similar testimony, I feel that I should be able to crossexamine these witnesses with the doorbell itself in evidence. In view of the fact that the bell has been brought to court, I ask permission of the Court to have this witness step down from the stand long enough to enable the prosecution to introduce its evidence, identifying the doorbell and making it available for such tests."
Judge Markham glanced at John Lucas. "Any objections?" he asked.
John Lucas made a throwing gesture with his arms spreading them wide apart as though baring his breast to the inspection of the jury. His manner was aggressively frank. "Certainly not," he said. "We are only too glad to put our evidence in in such a manner that it will assist counsel for the defense in his crossexamination of our witnesses. We want counsel to have every possible opportunity for crossexamination." With a smirk, he sat down.
Judge Markham nodded to Mrs. Crandall. "Just step down for a moment, Mrs. Crandall," he said, and then nodded to John Lucas. "Very well, Counselor," he said in a voice sufficiently uncordial to apprise Lucas that further attempts to grandstand in front of the jury would meet with judicial rebuff, "proceed to introduce the doorbell in evidence."
"Call Sidney Otis," said Lucas.
The big electrician lumbered forward, glanced at Perry Mason, then glanced hurriedly away. He held his eyes downcast while he raised his hand, listened to the oath being administered. Then he sat on the edge of the witness chair and looked expectantly at John Lucas.
"Your name?" asked John Lucas.
"Sidney Otis."
"Where do you reside?"
"Apartment B, Colemont Apartments, 316 Norwalk Avenue."
"What's your occupation?"
"An electrician."
"How old are you?"
"Fortyeight."
"When did you move into the apartment which you now occupy?"
"About the twentieth of June, I think it was."
"You're familiar with the doorbell in the apartment which you occupy, Mr. Otis?"
"Oh, yes."
"As an electrician you have perhaps noticed it more or less particularly?"
"Yes."
"Has the bell been changed or tampered with in any way since you occupied the apartment?"
Sidney Otis squirmed uncomfortably on the witness stand.
"Not since I moved into the apartment," he said.
"You say the bell has not been changed since you moved into the apartment?" John Lucas asked, puzzled.
"That's right."
"Had it, to your own knowledge, been changed or tampered with in any way prior to the time you moved into the apartment?"
"Yes."
John Lucas suddenly snapped to startled, upright rigidity. "What was that?" he demanded.
"I said it had been changed," said Sidney Otis.
"It had what?"