Before Judge Markham could rule on the point, the witness blurted a reply. "If you fellows think I'm going to contradict my wife," he said, "you're crazy!"
The courtroom broke into a roar of spontaneous laughter, which Judge Markham could not silence, despite the pounding of his gavel. After the tense drama of the previous situation, the spectators welcomed a chance to find some relief from the emotional tension. When some semblance of order had been restored by Judge Markham's threat to clear the courtroom if there were any further demonstrations, John Lucas said in a voice that was like the complaint of a wronged child to its mother, "That's just the point that Mason was trying to drill into the mind of this witness. He was trying to make him realize the position he'd put his wife in if he didn't testify the way Mason wanted him to."
"Well," said Judge Markham, with a smile twisting the corners of his mouth, despite himself, "whether that may or may not have been the case, it now is apparent that the point has at least occurred to the mind of the witness. However, I will sustain the objection. Counsel will ask questions which are free from argumentative matter."
Perry Mason bowed. "Was it a doorbell that you heard," he asked, "or was it an alarm clock?"
"It was an alarm clock," said Crandall, without hesitation.
Perry Mason sat down. "That's all the crossexamination," he said.
"Redirect examination?" asked Judge Markham.
Lucas walked toward the witness, holding the alarm clock in his left hand, shaking it violently until the sound of metal tinkling against metal was audible throughout the courtroom. "Are you going to tell this jury," he said, "that it was this alarm clock that you heard?"
"If that's the alarm clock that was in the room," said the witness slowly, "that was the one I heard."
"And it wasn't a doorbell at all?"
"It couldn't have been."
Lucas looked at the witness with exasperation on his face. "That's all," he said.
Crandall left the stand. Lucas, holding the alarm clock in his hand, turned and walked toward the counsel table. Midway to the table he paused as though he had suddenly been struck with some idea. He raised the alarm clock, stood staring at it, then whirled to face Judge Markham. Indignant words poured from his lips.
"Your Honor," he said, "the object of this examination is apparent. If this alarm was set for five minutes before two, and the alarm was ringing at the very moment when Gregory Moxley was murdered, the defendant, Rhoda Montaine, can't possibly have been the one who was guilty of that murder, because the testimony of the prosecution's own witnesses shows that she was not at the scene of the murder at that time, but until some ten minutes after two o'clock, on the morning when the murder was committed, was in a service station where she was under the eyes of an attendant who has carefully checked the time.
"Now, your Honor, in view of that fact, it appears that the most important part of this whole situation hinges upon the question of whether the alarm on this clock had been shut off, or allowed to run down. Now I notice that counsel for the defense took that clock from the hands of the deputy sheriff. I notice that he said that the alarm was run down, but there's no proof that it was run down. It would have been an exceedingly simple matter for counsel to have manipulated that lever while he was winding the alarm clock and turning the hands. I, therefore, suggest that all of this evidence be stricken out."
The Court motioned Perry Mason to silence, stared steadily at John Lucas.
"You can't strike out that evidence," he said, "because the witnesses have now testified positively that it was the alarm clock that they heard. Regardless of the means by which they were induced to make such a statement, they have made it, and the testimony must stand. However, the Court desires to state, Mr. Lucas, that if counsel had desired to safeguard the interests of the People against any such manipulation of the alarm clock, counsel was afforded that privilege. The Court specifically invited counsel to step up to the bench and watch counsel for the defense while he was winding and setting the clock. As I remember the situation, your attitude was that of a sulky child. You sat at the counsel table sullen and sulking, and refused to participate in the safeguards which were offered you by the Court. The Court is administering this rebuke in the presence of the jury, because your accusation of misconduct on the part of counsel for the defense was made in the presence of the jury. The jury are instructed to disregard the comments of both Court and counsel, so far as having any probative weight in this case is concerned. The means by which a witness is induced to make a statement are controlled by the Court. The effect of the statements made by witnesses are for the jurors."
John Lucas stood, face white, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Your Honor," he said in a voice which was barely audible, "this case has taken an unexpected turn. I, perhaps, deserve the rebuke of the Court. May I ask, however, that a continuance be granted until tomorrow morning?"
Judge Markham hesitated, glanced dubiously at Perry Mason, and asked, "Is there any objection on the part of the defense?"
Perry Mason was smilingly urbane. "So far as the defense is concerned, there is no objection whatever. As counsel for the prosecution remarked, earlier in the case, the prosecution desired that the defense have every opportunity to present its case. Now it gives counsel for the defense equal pleasure to assert to the Court that it desires the prosecution to have every opportunity to try and make out a case against this defendant—if it can."
Judge Markham placed a hand to his lips, in order that the jury might not see any possible quivering at the corners of his mouth. "Very well," he said. "Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. During the interim, the jury will remember the admonition of the Court, and not discuss the case, or permit it to be discussed in their presence, nor form or express any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant."
And with that, Judge Markham whirled about in his chair, and strode to his chambers, his robes fluttering behind him. But there were those among the spectators who caught a glimpse of the judicial profile just as it turned into chambers, who subsequently swore, with great glee, that the judge wore a very human grin which stretched from ear to ear.
Chapter 20
The lights of Perry Mason's private office beat down upon the masklike countenance of C. Phillip Montaine, the granitehard features of Perry Mason. Della Street, obviously excited, held an open notebook on her knee. "Have you seen your son this afternoon, Mr. Montaine?" Mason asked.
Montaine's face was inscrutable, his voice wellmodulated and slightly scornful. "No," he said, "you know that I have not. You know the district attorney has him held in custody as a material witness, that no one can see him."
Mason said, almost casually, "Wasn't it your suggestion, Mr. Montaine, that he be kept in custody?"
"Certainly not."
"Doesn't it impress you as being rather strange," Mason suggested, "that despite the fact the district attorney knows he cannot call Carl Montaine as a witness because of the law which provides a husband cannot be called as a witness against a wife, the district attorney should keep Carl locked up as a material witness?"
"I see no particular significance connected with it," Montaine said. "Certainly, I have had nothing to do with it."
"I was just wondering," Mason said, "if there wasn't something back of all of this; if, perhaps, some one were not trying to keep me from giving Carl a vigorous crossexamination." Montaine said nothing. "Did you know that I saw him this afternoon?" Mason inquired.
"I know you were to take his deposition in a divorce action, yes."