Ruskin looked at the clock, then leaned forward, whispered to Hamilton Burger, the district attorney, for a moment, then said to the Court, “May we have the indulgence of the Court for a moment, please?”
Judge Seymour nodded.
Ruskin and Hamilton Burger engaged in a lengthy whispered conference, from time to time looking at the clock.
At length Burger arose. “If the Court please,” he said, “we have about finished with our case but there is a certain matter of policy which we would like to discuss. Would it be possible for us to ask the Court to adjourn until two o’clock?”
Judge Seymour shook his head. “It is not yet eleven, gentlemen,” he said. “We have a backlog of cases. The courts are all starting half an hour earlier in order to try and get caught up and I don’t feel that I can delay this case. I suggest that you put on some other witness and then you can discuss your strategy during the noon hour.”
Again Burger and Ruskin engaged in a hurried whispered conference. Then Burger said, “Call Wilbur Kenney.”
As Wilbur Kenney came forward and held up his right hand to be sworn, Janice Wainwright whispered to Perry Mason, “Why, he’s the man who has the newsstand at the corner by the office.”
“What’s your occupation?” Burger asked.
“I’m a newsdealer, if you want to put it that way. I peddle papers and a few magazines. I have a corner newsstand.”
“Are you acquainted with the defendant?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve known her for years.”
“Referring to the morning of the third, that would be Tuesday, did you see the defendant?”
“I did.”
“What did she do, if anything?”
“She bought a copy of the Times and the Examiner.”
“And then what?”
“Then she went into the dime store across the street.”
“Then what?”
“Then she went up to her office building and entered the office building.”
“Did you see her again that morning?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About half an hour later.”
“What did she do?”
“Came down and bought another copy of the Times and another copy of the Examiner.”
There was a startled gasp from spectators in the courtroom as the significance of the testimony began to sink in.
“Now, this was on Tuesday, the third, at about what time?”
“Right around eight-forty-five in the morning. She came to work at eight-thirty and spoke to me as she passed. Then she came down and bought these papers, went across to the dime store, then went up in the office building and came down in about half an hour and bought two more papers.”
“Did she make any statement to you in connection with the second purchase?”
“She said there was some stuff in the papers she’d been cutting out.”
“Thank you,” Hamilton Burger said, and turned triumphantly to Perry Mason. “You may inquire.”
“No questions,” Mason said.
“Call Lucille Rankin,” Hamilton Burger said.
Lucille Rankin came forward and was sworn. “Have you ever seen the defendant in this case before?” Hamilton Burger asked.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At the five-ten-fifteen-twenty-five-cent and dollar store where I work.”
“When did you see her?”
“On Tuesday, the third.”
“At what time?”
“At approximately eight-forty-five.”
“Did you have any business transactions with her?”
“Yes.”
“What were they?”
“I sold her a pair of scissors.”
“Was there any conversation?”
“Yes, she said she wanted a pair of small scissors that would cut pieces out of a newspaper.”
“Did you observe anything under her arm at the time she made this statement?”
“Yes. She had two newspapers folded under her left arm.”
“Cross-examine,” Hamilton Burger said.
“No questions,” Mason observed affably.
Hamilton Burger said triumphantly, “That concludes the prosecution’s case.”
Mason arose, looked at the clock. “If the Court please, it is rather unusual for a murder case to be handled in such an expeditious manner. The defense is taken somewhat by surprise. I would like to ask for an adjournment until two o’clock this afternoon so that I may confer with my client.”
Judge Seymour shook his head. “We’re trying to get the calendar caught up, Mr. Mason. I admit that it’s unusual for a case of this magnitude to be handled in this expeditious manner, but we still have a good hour. I will state, however, that it is time for us to take our usual morning recess and in place of the usual ten-minute recess I will make it a twenty-minute recess, and that will give you time to confer with your client.”
Judge Seymour turned to the jury. “The Court will take a recess for twenty minutes during which time you will again remember the admonition of the Court not to discuss the case, or permit it to be discussed in your presence, or to form or express any opinion.”
Judge Seymour arose and left the bench.
As the courtroom cleared of spectators, Mason turned to Janice Wainwright. “Well, Janice?” he asked in a whisper.
“Mr. Mason,” she said, “they’re making that look something terrible, but actually it was just an innocent errand that I ran for Mr. Theilman.”
“Go on,” Mason said, “keep talking.”
“Mr. Theilman asked me to run down and get him the morning papers, both of them, and said there was some stuff he wanted to cut out about a real estate development and asked me to get him some scissors. I had to go out and buy some because I’d broken the office pair a few days before.”
“Then what?” Mason asked.
“After I returned to the office, he asked me to go down and get two more papers.”
“What became of those papers?” Mason asked.
“I don’t know. He never put them in the wastebasket, I’m certain of that. But usually he didn’t throw papers in the wastebasket. He would keep old newspapers in the closet. He had a pile of them, and then the janitor would remove them after the pile got so big. We’d save them for wrapping and things of that sort, and sometimes Mr. Theilman would want to refer to a back issue of the paper in order to check some of the real estate ads. But after he’d cut things out of papers usually he put those papers in the wastebasket, only this time he didn’t.”
Mason said, “Janice, I’m going to have to put you on the stand. You must realize that the circumstantial evidence is very black against you. Now, you have an explanation of sorts for everything — ‘Theilman said this, Theilman told me to do that, Theilman told me to do the other, I was following Mr. Theilman’s instructions.’
“Now Mr. Theilman is dead. You can understand what the prosecution is going to do to you once you get on the witness stand. They’re going to insist that you have fabricated a story in which you have deliberately made all the explanations dependent upon what Theilman told you, and that the reason you have done that is because Theilman is dead and can’t contradict you.
“Under those circumstances everything depends on the impression you make on the jurors. You can’t afford to lose your temper, you can’t afford to get hysterical, you can’t afford to start crying. You’ve got to stand up there and take it on the chin.
“You understand that?”
“Yes.”
“Can you do it?”
“Mr. Mason, I... I’m afraid I can’t.”
“I’m afraid you can’t, either,” Mason said grimly. “All right, Janice. You have about fifteen minutes left to start thinking things over. Become composed. Get your story together. I’ve carried the ball up to this point. After court reconvenes you’ll have to carry the ball. Now you sit there and think things over.”