The Case of the Postponed Murder

“Never mind whether you like it or not,” Scanlon said. “Answer it.”

“Yes, I was,” Eversel snapped.

“What kind of a revolver?”

“A thirty-eight — a Colt.”

Mason smiled affably. “That,” he said, “is all.”

Scanlon frowned. “I am not certain that I care to have the examination concluded at just this point,” he said. “Well, perhaps we’ll let the matter rest temporarily. You’ll remain in attendance, Mr. Eversel.”

“Just one more question,” Mason asked. “You stated that you made an enlargement of that negative, Mr. Eversel?”

“I did.”

“Where is it?”

“I gave it to the deputy district attorney.”

“Mr. Overmeyer?”

“No, Mr. Runcifer.”

Mason smiled. “Would you mind producing that print, Mr. Runcifer?”

Runcifer said, “I certainly would. That’s a part of the confidential files of the district attorney’s office. I object to any such a demand. If you want that photograph in evidence, produce it yourself, and when you do so, account for the fact that you have that negative in your possession.”

Emil Scanlon, in a voice that was suavely courteous, said, “If there are no more questions of Mr. Eversel, he will be excused. But remain in attendance.”

Eversel left the witness stand.

Runcifer exchanged a triumphant glance with his associate.

“And now,” Overmeyer said, “we will call Hazel Tooms as our next witness.”

“Thank you very much,” Scanlon said, “but the Justice has his own ideas about who should be the next witness. Mr. Runcifer, will you please come forward and be sworn?”

“Me?” Runcifer exclaimed. “I most strenuously object on the ground—”

Scanlon nodded affably and cut Runcifer in mid sentence. “... Just step right up to the witness stand, Mr. Runcifer.”

Oscar Overmeyer said in a loud half whisper: “You’d better go if you don’t want a contempt citation. This guy means business.”

Runcifer moved slowly forward, held up his hand, and was sworn.

Emil Scanlon said, “Do you have in your possession a photograph which purports to be a print of the flashlight photograph taken by the witness who last testified?”

“Your Honour, I object to that,” Oscar Overmeyer said. “That is a part of the—”

“I don’t want any objections,” Scanlon said. “I want that photograph if you have it.”

There was a moment of tense, dramatic silence. Then Runcifer said, “Very much against my wishes and over my protests, I produce the photograph the justice of the peace has requested.” Runcifer could not keep a condescending tone out of his voice when he said “justice of the peace.”

He opened his briefcase and took out an enlargement on glossy paper which he handed to the Justice. At the same time he favoured Perry Mason with a glance of savage hostility.

“While we’re about it,” Scanlon said casually, “you seem to have a lot of other photographs there. What are they, pictures showing the interior of the Pennwent?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s have them,” Scanlon said.

Runcifer took out a series of pictures, explaining that they showed the posture of the body when it was discovered, the interior of the cabin when the yacht had been brought in, the exterior of the yacht, the yacht in its berth at the Yacht Club, and an airplane view of the club showing the floats to which boats were moored.

Scanlon marked them all in numerical order and announced them as exhibits. “That’s all, Mr. Runcifer,” he said. “Thank you.”

Runcifer stalked stiffly back to his seat.

“Well,” Scanlon said, “let’s hear from Hazel Tooms. Will you come forward and be sworn, please?”

There was a craning of necks, but no rustle of motion usual when a witness moves toward the witness box.

Scanlon frowned and said, “Wasn’t she under subpoena?”

Runcifer said acidly, “She was under subpoena. She stated that at least one attempt had been made to get her to leave the country. When she was subpoenaed, we believe she was about to put herself beyond the jurisdiction of the court.”

“I’m not concerned with that,” Emil Scanlon said. “We’re holding only one postmortem, and that’s on the death of Wentworth and the probable involvement of the accused, Mae Farr. The question is, where is this witness now?”

“I don’t know,” Runcifer said.

Scanlon’s eyes turned to Perry Mason and became suddenly stern. “Mr. Mason,” he said, “I think I’ll now ask you to take the stand.”

Mason obediently took the witness stand, realizing that any protest would be quickly overruled.

“Do you know this witness, Hazel Tooms?” Emil Scanlon asked.

“I do.”

“Did you talk with her about the case?”

“I did.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“I do not.”

“Do you know how she happened to leave?”

“Not of my own knowledge, no.”

“Were you directly or indirectly responsible for her departure?”

“No.”

“That’s all,” the Justice said.