The bailiff stepped from the courtroom. There was a moment of silence, then the hissing sibilants of excited whispers, the sounds of rustling garments as people squirmed in an ecstasy of excitement. From the back of the courtroom came a sharp, hysterical giggle.
Judge Markham's gavel commanded silence.
There followed a period during which comparative silence was restored, but occasional whispers crept into the tense atmosphere, vague, indefinite sounds, impossible to locate, yet surreptitiously adding to the emotional tension.
The deputy sheriff brought an alarm clock into court. Perry Mason looked at the alarm clock, turned it over in his hands. "There's a label pasted on this clock, if the Court please," he said, "stating that it is the same clock which was taken from the apartment of Gregory Moxley on the morning of June sixteenth of this year."
Judge Markham nodded.
"I take it," said Perry Mason, "that I may use this in my crossexamination of the witness?"
"In view of the fact that it was produced by the prosecution, in response to an order of this Court directing the prosecution to place in your hands the identical alarm clock which was taken from that room," said Judge Markham, "you may use it. If the deputy district attorney has any objection he will make it now." John Lucas sat very straight and very erect at the table assigned to counsel for the prosecution. He made no sound, no motion. "Proceed," said Judge Markham.
Perry Mason, the alarm clock in his hands, approached the witness stand. "You will observe," he said, handing the alarm clock to Mrs. Crandall, "that the alarm is set for two o'clock. You will further notice that the clock has now stopped. It has, apparently, run down. I will also call to the attention of the Court and counsel that the alarm seems to be run down."
"It would," said John Lucas sarcastically, "naturally have run down. No one would have heard it ring in the sheriff's office at two o'clock in the morning."
"There need be no argument," said Judge Markham. "What is it you wish to do with the alarm clock, Counselor?"
"I wish to wind the alarm," said Perry Mason, "turn the hour and minute hands of the clock so that it may definitely be ascertained when the alarm was set. I want the witness to hear the sound of the alarm, and then she can testify whether that was the bell which she heard."
"Very well," said Judge Markham, "you will wind the alarm clock and set the hands under the supervision of the Court. Mr. Lucas, if you wish to step up to the bench while counsel is winding the clock you are invited to do so."
John Lucas sat rigid. "I refuse to have anything to do with this," he said. "It is irregular, a trick of counsel."
Judge Markham frowned at him. "Your remarks, Counselor," he observed ominously, "come very close to being contempt of court." He turned to Perry Mason. "Step up with the alarm clock, Counselor."
Perry Mason suddenly dominated the courtroom. Gone was all the indifference of his former manner. He was now the showman, putting on a headline act. He bowed to the judge, turned to smile at the jury, stepped up to the bench. He wound up the alarm, turned the hands of the clock slowly. When those hands registered two minutes before two, the alarm whirred into action.
Perry Mason set the clock on the judge's desk, turned and walked away, as though satisfied with what he had done. The alarm whirred for several seconds, then paused for an appreciable interval, then whirred again, paused and once more exploded into noise.
Perry Mason stepped forward and shut off the alarm, turned to Mrs. Crandall and smiled at her. "Now, Mrs. Crandall," he said, "since it appears that it couldn't have been the doorbell that you heard, since you are equally positive that it wasn't the telephone bell that you heard, don't you think that the bell you heard must have been that of the alarm clock?"
"Yes," she said dazedly, "I guess it must have been."
"Are you sure that it was?"
"Yes, it must have been."
"You're willing to swear that it was?"
"Yes."
"Now that you think it over, you're as certain of the fact that it must have been the bell of the alarm clock which you heard ringing, as you are of any other testimony you have given in this case?"
"Yes."
Judge Markham picked up the alarm clock, inspected it frowningly. He toyed with the key which wound the alarm, suddenly started drumming his fingers on the bench. He frowningly surveyed Perry Mason, then turned to regard the alarm clock with a scowl. Perry Mason bowed in the direction of John Lucas. "No further crossexamination," he said, and sat down.
"Redirect examination, Counselor?" asked Judge Markham of the deputy district attorney.
John Lucas got to his feet. "Are you now swearing positively," he shouted, "in contradiction of your previous testimony, that it was not a doorbell which you heard, but the bell of an alarm clock?"
Mrs. Crandall looked somewhat dazed at the savagery of his attack. Perry Mason's laugh was goodhumored, patronizing, insulting. "Why, your Honor," he said, "Counselor has forgotten himself. He is seeking to crossexamine his own witness. This is not my witness; this is a witness on behalf of the prosecution."
"The objection is sustained," said Judge Markham.
John Lucas took a deep breath, keeping control of himself with an effort. "It was this alarm clock which you heard?" he asked.
"Yes," said the witness with a sudden truculent emphasis.
John Lucas sat down abruptly. "That's all," he muttered.
"Your Honor," said Perry Mason, "may I recall Mr. Crandall for one question on further crossexamination?"
Judge Markham nodded. "Under the circumstances," he said, "the Court will permit it."
The tense, dramatic silence of the courtroom was so impressive that the pound of Benjamin Crandall's feet as he walked up the aisle to the witness stand sounded as audible as the pulsations of some drum of doom. Crandall resumed the witness stand. "You have heard your wife's testimony?" asked Perry Mason.
"Yes, sir."
"You have heard the alarm clock!"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you," said Perry Mason, "desire to contradict your wife's testimony that it was the alarm clock she heard, or…"
John Lucas jumped to his feet. "Objected to!" he said. "Argumentative. That's not proper crossexamination and counsel knows it."
Judge Markham nodded. "The objection," he said, in tones of grim severity, "is sustained. Counsel will keep his examination within the legitimate province of orderly questions. Counsel must well realize the impropriety of such a question."
Perry Mason accepted the rebuke meekly, but withal, smilingly. "Yes, your Honor," he said quietly, and turned to the witness. "Now, I'll put it this way, Mr. Crandall," he said. "It now appears from the physical facts of the case that you couldn't have heard a doorbell, and, inasmuch as you have stated positively that it wasn't a telephone bell which you heard, don't you think it must have been this alarm clock which you heard?"
The witness took a deep breath. His eyes moved around the courtroom, locked with the steady eyes of his wife, who sat in an aisle seat. John Lucas made an objection in a voice which quivered so that it almost broke. "Your Honor," he said, "that question is argumentative. Counsel is carefully making an argument to this man, and incorporating that argument as a part of his question. He keeps dangling the wife's testimony in front of the husband. It's not the way to crossexamine this witness. Why doesn't he come out and ask him fairly and frankly, without all these preliminaries, whether he heard a doorbell or whether he didn't hear a doorbell."
"I think, your Honor," Perry Mason insisted, "that this is legitimate crossexamination."