“Because it seemed inconceivable that the thief should put such valuable jewelry in a pocket which had a hole in it,” the butler said. “The police were looking for the car. They weren’t particularly interested in looking where the car had been. It wasn’t until the next morning, an hour or so after daylight, that these gems were discovered.”
“Who discovered them?”
“I did.”
“Where were they discovered?” Barney Killigen asked.
“In the driveway, just as I told you.”
“On the driveway, or on the side of the driveway?”
“Well, to the side.”
“Some were on one side, and some were on the other side, were they not?”
“That is correct.”
“Now then,” Killigen said, “assuming that the thief had put this very valuable property in a coat pocket, and that there was a hole in the coat pocket, the thief must have zig-zagged once or twice across the driveway in running to his car. Is that right?”
“The thief was under fire. Naturally, one would zigzag under those circumstances.”
“Have you ever been under fire?” Killigen asked.
“Me, sir?” the butler exclaimed indignantly.
“Yes, you,” Killigen said.
“Certainly not.”
“Well, I might put it another way.” Barney Killigen grinned. “Have you ever been fired?”
“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial, and not proper cross-examination,” Carl Purdue shouted.
Judge Tammerlane suppressed a grin as he sustained the objection.
“Well, let’s get back to this under fire business,” Killigen said. “If you’ve never been under fire, how do you know that a person should zig-zag when he’s being shot at?”
“From reading books.”
“Textbooks on the subject of how to behave under fire,” Killigen asked, “or fiction?”
“Fiction.”
“Ah, yes. Detective stories?” Killigen inquired.
“Yes, sir,” the butler said.
“And do these detective stories teach you any of the fine points of crime detection?”
“I think so. Yes, sir.”
“Most interesting,” Killigen said. “Now who discovered the imprints of the ladder under the window?”
“I did — that is, I pointed them out to the police.”
“The police were with you at the time?”
“Yes.”
Carl Purdue said: “One of my next witnesses will identify those ladder imprints if you’re interested, Mr. Killigen. I’m mentioning it at this time so you won’t waste time cross-examining this witness as to his recollection. A plaster cast of those imprints is to be a point of our case and we will introduce such a cast in evidence.”
“Thank you,” Killigen said. “That’s all.”
“I would not have presumed to call Mrs. Dwight Chester-Smith from her important engagements,” Carl Purdue said, in unctuous, mealy mouthed tones, “but, inasmuch as she is here in court in response to a subpoena of the defendant, I wish to put her on the stand to establish certain preliminary matters. Mrs. Chester-Smith, will you come forward and be sworn?”
She marched down the aisle to the witness stand, oozing indignation from every pore. By her, Carl Purdue identified the various and sundry items of jewelry which had been found near the driveway and brought out the information that only the envelope containing the ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills remained missing. That and the ring had been the only two things which the butler had failed to recover in his morning search.
Barney Killigen said, “No cross-examination,” and the witness was excused.
Carl Purdue, with something of a flourish, announced, “My next witness is Robert Lame.”
Lame took the stand with an air of smirking self-importance, but the man was smart and he was watching his testimony with a care equal to that of the deputy district attorney. He testified that he was a private detective, that he had been employed to act as guard for the wedding and birthday presents. He mentioned that he had just finished his supper of sandwiches, pie, and coffee, when a masked man, who he knew was Grayson, smashed in a pane of glass in the window with the barrel of a gun, turned the gun on him, raised the sash, and then knocked the witness unconscious. “The burglar,” he explained, “had climbed a ladder which had silently been placed against the house.” He told of regaining consciousness, of the flight of the burglars, of seeing the man and woman running away, taking the ladder with them. He testified he had been able to see four numbers of the license plate on their car, that he had called on the pair to halt, and then fired six shots from his revolver. He told of subsequently making an investigation, of finding where the ladder had been placed against the house, and described the indentations where the ends of the ladder had been imbedded.
The deputy district attorney introduced a plaster of Paris cast of these ladder marks, and Lame identified them, told of being present when the casts were made.
Carl Purdue turned him over to Barney Killigen for cross-examination.
“The man who held you up was masked?” Killigen asked.
“Yes.”
“But you recognized him?”
“I won’t say that I recognized him. No. But there were certain things about him which I noticed. Subsequently, when I saw the defendant, Jimmy Grayson, I realized that he and the man who had held me up had many points of similarity: the color of the hair, the slope of the shoulders, the shape of the neck, the size, weight, and voice. I take all of these things into consideration and say positively that Grayson was the one who held the gun on me.”
“Now, how about the woman?” Killigen asked. “Do you absolutely identify her?”
“I’m not so positive of her identity as I am that of Grayson,” Lame said, choosing his words cautiously, yet creating an impression of fairness which I knew was going to be deadly to the jury. “You must remember, Mr. Killigen, that I was looking down on her from a window. I didn’t see her in the light of a room. On the other hand, she wasn’t masked. I would say that the woman who accompanied Grayson as his accomplice in the robbery was about the same age, size, build, and complexion as the defendant, Estelle Whiting. I can’t swear positively that it was she who was with Grayson.”
“But you do swear positively that the burglar was Mr. Grayson?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Now, you had just finished eating your midnight lunch?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Is it your custom to take lunch with you when you go to guard gifts at social functions such as this?”
“It is. Quite frequently more guests attend than the host plans on. In that event, there aren’t many refreshments, and you can leave it to the servants to see that they don’t suffer. The hostess frequently forgets the detective who is on guard. You can’t summon the servants to have them tell her you’re hungry, and you can’t go to the kitchen yourself without leaving your station. I carry my lunch and eat when I m hungry and have my coffee so it’ll refresh me and keep me awake. People who don’t like it, don’t need to employ me.”
“I see,” Killigen said. “Now let’s come back to the ladder. Let me call your attention to the plaster cast showing the marks made by the base of the ladder. Do you notice anything peculiar about them?”
“Nothing,” Lame said.
“You’re a detective?”
“Yes.”
“And as such, you specialize on making deductions from clues?”
“Well, you might call it that, yes.”
“And yet you see nothing strange about the imprints of this ladder?”
“No, certainly not. Those are the imprints of two two-by-fours which formed the uprights of the ladder. When the ladder was placed against the side of the building, and the defendant climbed up it, the two-by-fours were imbedded into the soft earth.”