Hamilton Burger, his face plainly indicating his feelings, rose to his feet when court was called to order the next morning and said, “Your Honor, I would like to call the Court’s attention to Section 135 of the penal code, which reads as follows: ‘Every person who, knowing that any book, paper, record, instrument in writing, or other matter or thing, is about to be produced in evidence upon any trial, inquiry, or investigation whatever, authorized by law, willfully destroys or conceals the same, with intent thereby to prevent it from being produced is guilty of a misdemeanor.’”
Judge Strouse, plainly puzzled, said, “The Court is, I think, familiar with the law, Mr. Burger.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said. “I merely wished to call the section to Your Honor’s attention. I know Your Honor is familiar with the law. I feel that perhaps some other persons are not, and now, Your Honor, I wish to call Miss Elsa Griffin to the stand.”
Stewart Bedford looked at Mason with alarm. “What the devil’s this?” he whispered. “I thought we were going to keep her out of the public view. We can’t afford to have Brems recognize her as the one who was in unit twelve.”
“She didn’t like the way I was handling things,” Mason said. “She decided to become a witness.”
“When did that happen?”
“Late last night.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
The outer door opened, and Elsa Griffin, her chin high, came marching into the courtroom. She raised her right hand, was sworn, and took the witness stand.
“What is your name?” Hamilton Burger asked.
“Elsa Griffin.”
“Are you acquainted with the defendant in this case?”
“I am employed by him.”
“Where were you on the sixth day of April of this year?”
“I was at The Staylonger Motel.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I was there at the request of a certain person.”
“Now then, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger said, addressing Judge Strouse, “a most unusual situation is about to develop. I may state that this witness, while wishing the authorities to take certain action, did nevertheless conspire with another person, whom I shall presently name, to conceal and suppress certain evidence which we consider highly pertinent.
“I had this witness placed under subpoena. She is here as an unwilling witness. That is, she is not only willing but anxious to testify to certain phases of the case. However, she is quite unwilling to testify as to other matters. As to these matters she has refused to make any statement, and I have no knowledge of how much or how little she knows as to this part of the case. She simply will not talk with me except upon one point.
“It is, therefore, necessary for me to approach this witness upon certain matters as a hostile witness.”
“Perhaps,” Judge Strouse said, “you had better first examine the witness upon the matters as to which she is willing to give her testimony, and then elicit information from her on the other points as a hostile witness, and under the rules pertaining to the examination of hostile witnesses.”
“Very well, Your Honor.”
Hamilton Burger turned to the witness.
“You are now and for several years have been employed by the defendant?”
“Yes.”
“In what capacity?”
“I am his confidential secretary.”
“Are you acquainted with Mr. Morrison Brems, the manager of The Staylonger Motel?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have a conversation with Morrison Brems on April sixth of this year?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Early in the evening.”
“What was said at that conversation?”
“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” Mason said.
“Just a moment, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger countered. “We propose to show that this witness was at the time of this conversation the agent of the defendant, that she went to the motel in accordance with instructions issued by the defendant.”
“You had better show that first then,” Judge Strouse ruled.
“But that, Your Honor, is where we are having trouble, that is one of the points where the witness is hostile.”
“There are some other matters on which the witness is not a hostile witness?” Judge Strouse asked.
“Yes.”
“The Court has suggested that you proceed with those matters until the evidence which can be produced by this witness as a friendly witness is all before the Court. Then, if there are other matters on which the witness is hostile, and you request permission to deal with the witness as a hostile witness, the record will be straight as to what has been done and where, when and why it has been done.”
“Very well, Your Honor.”
Hamilton Burger turned again to the witness. “After this conversation did you return to The Staylonger Motel later on in the evening of April sixth?”
“Actually it was, I believe, early on the morning of April seventh.”
“Who sent you to The Staylonger Motel?”
“Mr. Perry Mason.”
“You mean that you received instructions from Mr. Mason while he was acting as attorney for Stewart G. Bedford, the defendant in this case?”
“Yes.”
“What did Mr. Mason instruct you to do?”
“To get certain fingerprints from unit twelve, to take a fingerprint outfit and dust every place in the unit where I thought I could get a suitable latent fingerprint, to lift those fingerprints and then to obliterate every single remaining fingerprint which might be in unit twelve, after that to bring the lifted fingerprints to Mr. Mason.”
“Did you understand the process of taking fingerprints and lifting them?”
“Yes.”
“Had you made some study of that process?”
“Yes.”
“I am a graduate of a correspondence school dealing with such matters.”
“Where did you get the material necessary to lift latent fingerprints?”
“Mr. Mason furnished it.”
“And what did you do after Mr. Mason gave you those materials?”
“I went to the motel and lifted certain fingerprints from unit twelve as I had been instructed.”
“And then what?”
“I took those fingerprints to Mr. Mason so that the fingerprints which were mine could be discarded, and thereby, through a process of elimination, leave only the fingerprints of any person who had been prowling the cabin during my absence.”
“Do you know if this was done?”
“It was done. I was so advised by Mr. Mason, who also told me that all the latent prints I had lifted were my prints, with the exception of those prints contained on four cards.”
“Do you know what four cards these were?”
“Yes. As I lifted prints I put them on cards and numbered the cards. The cards containing the significant prints were numbered fourteen, sixteen, nine, and twelve.
“Fourteen and sixteen came from the glass doorknob of the closet door in the motel unit; nine and twelve came from the side of a mirror.”
“Do you know where these four cards are now?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I have them.”
“Where did you get them?”
“I snatched them from Perry Mason last night and ran to the police as Mr. Mason was trying to get them back.”
“Did you give them to the police?”
“No.”
“I didn’t want anything to happen to them. You see by last night I knew whose prints they were. That is why I ran with them.”
“Why did you feel that you had to run?” Burger asked.
Judge Strouse glanced down at Perry Mason expectantly. When the lawyer made no effort to object, Judge Strouse said to the witness, “Just a minute before you answer that question. Does the defense wish to object to this question, Mr. Mason?”
“No, Your Honor,” Perry Mason said. “I feel that I am being on trial here and that therefore I should let the full facts come out.”
Judge Strouse frowned. “You may feel that you are on trial, Mr. Mason. That is a matter of dispute. There can be no dispute that your client is on trial, and your primary duty is to protect the interests of that client regardless of the effect on your own private affairs.”
“I understand that, Your Honor.”
“This question seems to me to be argumentative and calls for a conclusion of the witness.”
“There is no objection, Your Honor.”
Judge Strouse hesitated and said, “I would like to point out to you, Mr. Mason, that the Court will take a hand if it appears that your interests in the case become adverse to your client and no objection is made to questions which are detrimental to your client’s case.”
“I think if the Court please,” Mason said, “the opposite may be the case here. I feel that the answer of the witness may be strongly opposed to my personal interests but very much in favor of the defendant’s case. You see that is the reason the witness is both a willing witness on some phases of the case and an unwilling witness on others. She feels that she should testify against me, but she is loyal to the interests of her employer.”
“Very well,” Judge Strouse said. “If you don’t wish to object, the witness will answer the question.”
“Answer the question,” Hamilton Burger said. “Why did you feel that you had to run?”
“Because at that time I had identified those fingerprints.”
“You had?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You said that you had studied fingerprinting?”
“Yes.”
“And you were able at that time to identify these fingerprints?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You compared them with originals?”
“Well, enough to know whose they were.”
Hamilton Burger turned to the Court and said, “I confess, Your Honor, that on some of these matters I am feeling my way because of the peculiar situation which exists. The witness promised to give her testimony on the stand but would not tell me—”
“There is no objection,” Judge Strouse interrupted. “There is, therefore, nothing before the Court. You will kindly refrain from making any argument or comments as to the testimony of this witness until it comes time to argue the matter to the jury. Simply proceed with your question and answer, Mr. District Attorney.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said.
Judge Strouse looked down at Mason. His expression was thoughtfully dubious.
“You yourself were able to identify those prints?” Hamilton Burger asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Whose prints did you think they were?”
“Now just a minute,” Judge Strouse said. “Apparently counsel is not going to object that no proper foundation has been laid and that this calls for an opinion of the witness. Miss Griffin?”
“Yes, Your Honor?”
“You state that you studied fingerprinting?”
“How?”
“By correspondence.”
“Over what period of time?”
“I took a complete course. I graduated. I learned to distinguish the different characteristics of fingerprints. I learned how to take fingerprints and compare them and how to classify them.”
“Is there any objection from defense counsel?” Judge Strouse asked.
“None whatever,” Mason said.
“Very well, whose prints were they?” Burger asked.
“Now just a minute,” Mason said. “If the Court please I feel that that question is improper.”
“I feel the objection is in order,” Judge Strouse ruled.
“However,” Mason went on, “I am not interposing the objection which perhaps Your Honor has in mind. I feel that this witness, while she may have qualified as an expert on fingerpinting, has qualified as a limited expert. She is what might be called an amateur expert. I feel that, therefore, the question should not be as to whose fingerprints these were, but in her opinion, for what it may be worth, what points of similarity there are between these prints and known standards.”
Judge Strouse said, “The objection is sustained.”
Hamilton Burger, his face darkening with annoyance, asked, “In your opinion, for what it may be worth, what points of similarity are there between these latents and the known prints of any person with which you may have made a comparison?”
Elsa Griffin raised her head. Her defiant eyes glared at the defendant, then at Mason, and then turned to the jury. In a firm voice she said, “In my opinion, for what it may be worth, these prints have so many points of similarity I can say they were made by the fingers of Mrs. Stewart G. Bedford, the wife of the defendant in this case.”
Hamilton Burger grinned. “Do you have those fingerprints with you?”
“I do.”
“And how do you identify them?”
“The cards are numbered,” she said. “The numbers are fourteen, sixteen, nine, and twelve respectively. Also I signed my name on the backs of these cards at a late hour last night so that there could be no possibility of substitution or mistake. I did that at the suggestion of the district attorney. He wanted me to leave these cards with him. When I refused he asked me to sign my name so there could be no possibility of trickery.”
Hamilton Burger was grinning. “And then what did I do, if anything?”
“Then you signed your name beneath mine and put the date on the cards.”
“I ask of the Court please that those prints be introduced in evidence,” Hamilton Burger said, “as People’s Exhibit under proper numbers.”
“Now just a moment,” Mason said. “At this point, Your Honor, I feel that I have a right to a voir dire examination as to the authenticity of the exhibits.”
“Go ahead,” Hamilton Burger said. “In fact, handle your cross-examination on this phase of the case if you want, because from here on the witness becomes an unwilling witness.”
“Counsel may proceed,” Judge Strouse said.
“You made this positive identification of the latent prints last night, Miss Griffin?”
“Yes.”
“In my office?”
“Yes.”
“You were rather excited at the time?”
“Well… all right, I was a little excited, but I wasn’t too excited to compare fingerprints.”
“You checked all four of these fingerprints?”
“Yes.”
“All four of them were the fingerprints of Mrs. Bedford?”
“Yes.”
Bedford tugged at Mason’s coat. “Look here, Mason,” he whispered. “Don’t let her—”
Mason brushed his client’s hand to one side. “Keep quiet,” he ordered.”
Mason arose and approached the witness stand. “You are, I believe, skilled in classifying fingerprints?”
“I am.”
“You know how to do it?”
“Very well.”
Mason said, “I am going to give you a magnifying glass to assist you in looking at these prints.”
Mason took a powerful pocket magnifying glass from his pocket, turned to the clerk, and said, “May I have some of the fingerprints which have been introduced in evidence? I don’t care for the fingerprints of the defendant which were found in the car and in the motel, but I would like some of those other exhibits of the unidentified party, the ones that were found in the car and in the motel.”
“Very well,” the clerk said, thumbing through the exhibits. He handed Mason several of the cards.
“Now then,” Mason said, “I call your attention to People’s Exhibit number twenty-eight, which purports to be a lifted fingerprint. I will ask you to look at that and see if that fingerprint matches one on any of the cards numbered fourteen, sixteen, nine, and twelve, which you have produced.”
The witness made a show of studying the print with the magnifying glass, shook her head and said, “No!” and then added, “It can’t. These prints are the prints of Mrs. Bedford. Those prints in the exhibits are the prints of an unidentified person.”
“But isn’t it true that this unidentified person, as far as you know, might well have been Mrs. Bedford?” Mason asked.
“No, that person was a blonde. I saw her.”
“But you don’t know that it was the blonde who left the prints?”
“No, I don’t know that.”
“Then please examine this print closely.”
Mason held the print out to Elsa Griffin, who looked at it with the magnifying glass in a perfunctory manner, then handed it back to Mason.
“Now,” Mason said, “I call your attention to People’s Exhibit number thirty-four, and ask you to compare this.”
Again the witness made a perfunctory study with the magnifying glass and said, “No. None of these prints match.”
“None of them?” Mason asked.
“None! I tell you, Mr. Mason, those are the prints of Mrs. Bedford, and you know it as well as I do.”
Mason appeared to be somewhat rebuffed. He studied the prints, then looked at the cards in Elsa Griffin’s hand.
“Perhaps,” he said, “you can tell me just how you go about examining a fingerprint. Take this one, for instance, on the card numbered sixteen. That is one, I believe, that you secured from the under side of a glass doorknob in the cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Now what is the first characteristic of that print which you noticed?”
“That is a tented arch.”
“I see. A tented arch,” Mason said thoughtfully. “Now would you mind pointing out just where that tented arch is? Oh, I see. Now this fingerprint which I hand you which has been numbered People’s Exhibit number thirty-seven also has a tented arch, does it not?”
She looked at the print and said, “Yes.”
“Now, using this print number sixteen which you say you recovered from the closet doorknob, let us count from the tented arch through the ridges until we come to a branch in the ridges. There are, let’s see, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ridges, and then we come to a branch.”
“That is right,” she said.
“Well, now let’s see,” Mason said. “We take this print which has been introduced by the prosecution as number thirty-seven and we count—let’s see, why, yes, we count the same number of ridges and we come to the same peculiar branching, do we not?”
“Let me see,” the witness said.
She studied the print through the magnifying glass. “Well, yes,” she said, “that is what you would call one point of similarity. You need several to make a perfect identification.”
“I see,” Mason said. “One point of similarity could of course be a coincidence.”
“Don’t make any mistake, Mr. Mason,” she said icily. “That is a coincidence.”
“Very well, now, let’s look at your print number sixteen again, the one which you got from underneath the closet doorknob, and see if you can find some other distinguishing mark.”
“You have one here,” she said. “On the tenth ridge.”
“The tenth,” Mason said. “Let me see … oh, yes.”
“Well, now let’s look at thirty-seven again, and see if you can find the same point of similarity there.”
“There’s no use looking,” she said. “There won’t be.”
“Tut, tut!” Mason said. “Don’t jump at conclusions, Miss Griffin. You’re testifying as an expert, so let’s just take a look now if you please. Count up these ridges and—”
The witness gasped.
“Do you find such a point of similarity?” Mason asked, seemingly as much surprised as the witness.
“I … I seem to. Somebody has been tampering with these fingerprints.”
“Now, just a moment! Just a moment!” Hamilton Burger said. “This is a serious matter, Your Honor.”
“Who’s going to tamper with the fingerprints?” Mason asked. “The fingerprints that the witness has been testifying to were in her possession. She said that she had them in her possession all night. She wouldn’t let them out of her possession for fear they might be tampered with. She signed her name on the back of each card. The district attorney signed his name and wrote the date. There are the signatures on the cards. These other cards are exhibits which the prosecution introduced in court. I have just taken those exhibits from the clerk. They bear the file number of the clerk and the exhibit number.”
“Just the same,” Hamilton Burger shouted, “there’s some sort of a flimflam here. The witness knows it and I know it.”
“Mr. Burger,” Judge Strouse stated, “you will not make any such charges in this courtroom. Not unless they can be substantiated. Apparently there is no possibility of any substitution. Miss Griffin?”
“Yes, Your Honor?”
“Kindly look at the card numbered sixteen.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“You got that card last night?”
“I … I … yes, I must have.”
“From the office of Perry Mason?”
“Yes.”
“And you compared that card at that time with the fingerprints of Mrs. Stewart Bedford?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“That card was in your possession and under your control at that time?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Now, speaking for the moment as to this one card, exactly what did you do with that card after satisfying yourself the print was that of Mrs. Bedford? What did you do with it?”
“I put it in the front of my dress.”
“And then what?”
“I was escorted by Sergeant Holcomb to the office of Hamilton Burger. Mr. Burger wanted to have me leave the prints with him. I refused to do so. At his suggestion, I signed my name on the back of each card. Then he signed his name and the date, so there could be no question of a substitution, so that I couldn’t substitute them, and so that no one else could.”
“And that’s your signature and the date on the back of that card?”
“It seems to be but … I’m not certain. May I examine these prints for a moment?”
“Take all the time you want,” Judge Strouse said.
Hamilton Burger said, “Your Honor, I feel that there should be some inquiry here. This is completely in accordance with the peculiar phenomena which always seem to occur in cases where Mr. Perry Mason is defense counsel.”
“I resent that,” Perry Mason said. “I am simply trying to cross-examine this expert, this so-called expert, I may add.”
Elsa Griffin looked up from the fingerprint classification to flash him a glance of venomous hatred.
Judge Strouse said, “Counsel for both sides will return to their chairs at counsel tables. The witness will be given ample opportunity to make the comparison which she wishes.”
Burger reluctantly lumbered back to his chair at the prosecution’s table and dropped into it.
Mason walked back, sat down, locked his hands behind his head and, with elaborate unconcern, leaned back in the chair.
Stewart Bedford tried to whisper to him, but Mason waved him back into silence.
The witness proceeded to examine the cards, studying first one and then the other, counting ridges with a sharp-pointed pencil. The silence in the courtroom grew to a peak of tension.
Suddenly Elsa Griffin threw the magnifying glass directly at Perry Mason. The glass hit the mahogany table, bounced against the lawyer’s chest. Elsa Griffin dropped all the fingerprint cards, put her hands to her eyes, and began to cry hysterically.
Mason got to his feet.
Judge Strouse said, “Just a moment. Counsel for both sides will remain seated. The Court wants to examine the witness. Miss Griffin, will you kindly regain your composure. The Court wishes to ask you certain questions.”
She took her hands from her face, raised tearful eyes to the Court. “What is it?” she asked.
“Do you now conclude that your print number sixteen is the same as the print which has been introduced in evidence, prosecution’s number thirty-seven—that both were made by the same finger?”
She said, “It is, Your Honor, but it wasn’t. Last night it was the print of Mrs. Bedford. Somebody somewhere has mixed everything all up, and … and now I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I’m talking about.”
“Well, there’s no reason to be hysterical about this, Miss Griffin,” Judge Strouse said. “You’re certain that this fingerprint number sixteen is the one that you took from the cottage?”
She nodded. “It has to be … I … I know that it’s Mrs. Bedford’s fingerprint!”
“There certainly can be no doubt about the authenticity of the Court Exhibit,” Judge Strouse said. “Now apparently, according to the testimony of the prosecution’s witness, the identity of these fingerprints simply means that the same woman who was in unit sixteen of the motel on April sixth was also in unit twelve of the motel on that same day, that this person also drove the rented automobile.”
Elsa Griffin shook her head. “It isn’t so, Your Honor. It simply can’t be. It isn’t—” Again she lapsed into a storm of tears.
Hamilton Burger said, “If the Court please, may I make a suggestion?”
“What is it?” Judge Strouse asked coldly.
Hamilton Burger said, “This witness seems to be emotionally upset. I suggest that she be withdrawn from the stand. I suggest that the four cards, each bearing her signature and the numbers fourteen, sixteen, nine, and twelve, be each stamped by the clerk for identification; that these cards then be given to the police fingerprint expert who is here in the witness room and who can very shortly give us an opinion as to the identity of those fingerprints. In the meantime, I wish to state to the Court that I am completely satisfied with the sincerity and integrity of this witness. I personally feel that there has been some trickery and substitution. I think that a deception and a fraud is being practiced on this court and in order to prove it I would ask to recall Morrison Brems, the manager of the motel, to the stand.”
Judge Strouse stroked his chin. “The jury will disregard the comments of the district attorney,” he said, “in regard to deception or fraud. This witness will be excused from the stand, the cards will be marked for identification by the clerk and then delivered to the fingerprint expert who has previously testified and who will be charged by the court with making a comparison and a report. Now in the meantime the witness Brems will come forward. You will be excused for the time being, Miss Griffin. Just leave the stand, if you will, and try to compose yourself.”
The bailiff escorted the sobbing Elsa Griffin from the stand.
Morrison Brems was brought into court.
“I am now going to prove my point another way,” Hamilton Burger said. “Mr. Brems, you have already been sworn in this case. You talked with this so-called prowler who emerged from unit number twelve?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You saw that prowler leaving the cabin?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hamilton Burger said, “I am going to ask Mrs. Stewart G. Bedford, who is in court, to stand up and take off the heavy dark glasses with which she has effectively kept her identity concealed. I am going to ask her to walk across the courtroom in front of this witness.”
“Object,” Bedford whispered frantically to Mason. “Object. Stop this! Don’t let him get away with it!”
“Keep quiet,” Mason warned. “If we object now we’ll antagonize the jury. Let him go.”
“Stand up, Mrs. Bedford,” Judge Strouse ordered.
Mrs. Bedford got to her feet.
“Will you kindly remove your glasses?”
“This isn’t the proper way of making an identification,” Perry Mason said. “There should be a line-up, Your Honor, but we have no objection.”
“Come inside the rail here, Mrs. Bedford, right through that gate,” Judge Strouse directed. “Now just walk the length of the courtroom, if you will, turn your face to the witness, and—”
“That’s the one. That’s the one. That’s the woman!” Morrison Brems shouted, excitedly.
Ann Roann Bedford stopped abruptly in her stride. She turned to face the witness. “You lie,” she said, her voice cold with venom.
Judge Strouse banged his gavel. “There will be no comments except in response to questions asked by counsel,” he said. “You may return to your seat, Mrs. Bedford, and you will please refrain from making any comment. Proceed, Mr. Burger.”
A grinning Hamilton Burger turned to Perry Mason and made an exaggerated bow. “And now, Mr. Mason,” he said, “you may cross-examine—to your heart’s content.”
“Now just a moment, Mr. District Attorney,” Judge Strouse snapped. “That last comment was uncalled for; that is not proper conduct.”
“I beg the Court’s pardon,” Hamilton Burger said, his face suffused with triumph. “I think, if the Court please, I can soon suggest to the Court what happened to the fingerprint evidence, but I’ll be very glad to hear Mr. Mason cross-examine this witness and see what can be done with his testimony. However, I do beg the Court’s pardon.”
“Proceed with the cross-examination,” Judge Strouse said to Perry Mason.
Perry Mason rose to his full height, faced Morrison Brems on the stand.
“Have you ever been convicted of a felony, Mr. Brems?”
The witness recoiled as though Mason had struck him.
Hamilton Burger, on his feet, was shouting, “Your Honor, Your Honor! Counsel can’t do that! That’s misconduct! Unless he has some grounds to believe—”
“You can always impeach a witness by showing he has been convicted of a felony,” Mason said as Hamilton Burger hesitated, sputtering in his rage.
“Of course you can, of course you can,” Hamilton Burger yelled. “But you can’t ask questions like that where you haven’t anything on which to base such a charge. That’s misconduct! That’s—”
“Suppose you let him answer the question,” Mason said, “and then—”
“It’s misconduct! That’s unprofessional. That’s—”
“I think,” Judge Strouse said, “the objection will be overruled. The witness will answer the question.”
“Remember,” Mason warned, “you’re under oath. I’m asking you the direct question. Have you ever been convicted of a felony?”
The witness who had been so sure of himself as he had regarded Mason a few short seconds earlier seemed to shrivel inside his clothes. He shifted his position uncomfortably. The courtroom silence became oppressive.
“Have you?” Mason asked.
“Yes,” Brems said.
“How many times?”
“Three.”
“Did you ever use the alias of Harry Elston?”
The witness again hesitated. “You’re under oath,” Mason reminded him, “and a handwriting expert is going to check your handwriting, so be careful what you say.”
“I refuse to answer,” the witness said with a sudden desperate attempt at collecting himself. “I refuse to answer on the ground that to do so may incriminate me.”
“And,” Mason went on, “on the seventh day of April of this year you called on your accomplice Grace Compton who had occupied unit sixteen at The Staylonger Motel on April sixth under the name of Mrs. S. G. Wilfred, and beat her up because she had been talking with me, didn’t you?
“Now just a minute, Mr. Brems. Before you answer that question, remember that I had a private detective shadowing Miss Compton, shadowing the apartment house where she lived, noticing the people who went in and out of the apartment, and that I am at the present time in touch with Grace Compton in Acapulco. Now answer the question, did you or didn’t you?”
“I refuse to answer,” the witness said, “on the ground that to do so might incriminate ne.”
Mason turned to the judge, conscious of the open-mouthed jurors literally sitting on the edges of their chairs.
“And now, Your Honor, I suggest that the Court take a recess until we can have an opinion of the police fingerprint expert on these fingerprints and so the police will have some opportunity to reinvestigate the murder.”
Mason sat down.
“In view of the situation,” Judge Strouse said, “Court will take a recess until two o’clock this afternoon.”