“Then you do know something!” he cried.
The brimming horror in her eyes caught him up. He had never seen such a look on a human face. He drew back, his anger beginning to drain away. “I don’t know anything,” she said hurriedly, in a breathless and tumbling whisper. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m — I’m upset. I don’t know anything at all, do you hear? Oh, Bill, please...”
“Andrea,” he said in a low voice. “What is it? Why don’t you confide in me, let me help you? You’re in trouble. Are you mixed up in this thing? Did you... kill him?”
She sprang away. “No. I tell you I don’t know anything. Nothing at all. And if you’re going to put me on the stand, I’ll — I’ll run away! I’ll leave the State! I’ll—”
He drew a long breath, relaxing. “Very well,” he said quietly. “I know how to deal with such a situation. For your own good, Miss Gimball... I warn you. Do something rash, and I’ll hound you to your dying day. I’m on the spot, and so are you; but Lucy is closest to a horrible fate. Stay put, and I’ll be as easy with you as I can. Do you hear me?” She did not reply; she was sobbing into the cushion of a divan. He regarded her for a long time, the muscles of his cheeks twitching; then he turned on his heel and went away.
When Ellery had gone through the transcript once, he deliberately took off his coat, lit a cigaret, and buried himself in the pages once more. In a mass of testimony one section stood out. The witness had been called in late afternoon. Ellery went over the testimony slowly, word by word, and his frown deepened as he read.
Q. Your full name? A. John Howard Collins.
Q. You operate a gasoline filling-station, Mr. Collins? A. Yes.
Q. And where is your filling-station located? A. I have my place on lower Lamberton Road, about six miles from Trenton. That’s between Trenton and Camden. I mean it’s closer to Trenton.
Q. I point to a certain spot on this map, Mr. Collins. Is this about where your gasoline station lies? A. Just about. Yes, sir.
Q. You know this section well? A. Sure. Had my place on that spot for nine-ten years. Lived near Trenton all my life.
Q. Then you know where the Marine Terminal is? Can you place it on this map? A. Yes, sir. (Witness takes pointer and points to Marine Terminal on map.) Right here.
Q. That’s correct. Back on the stand, please. Now, Mr. Collins, how far from the Marine Terminal is your place of business? A. Three miles.
Q. Do you recall the evening of June first this year, a little less than a month ago? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Clearly? A. Yes, sir.
Q. How is that you recall that particular evening so clearly? A. Well, a lot of things made me remember it. First place, it rained all afternoon and there was practically no business. Second place, I had an argument with my helper around half past seven and fired him. Third place, I’d run low on gas late Friday night and called up the gas people first thing Saturday morning to send a truck out, special, right away. I didn’t want to get caught low on Sunday. Truck didn’t come, though, all day Saturday.
Q. I see. Then all these things made you remember that day very clearly, Mr. Collins. Now, I show you State’s Exhibit 17, a photograph of an automobile. Have you ever seen the car in this photograph? A. Yes, sir. It drove up to my place that night at five after eight.
Q. How do you know this photograph represents the identical car that drove up to your filling-station at 8.05 pm June first? A. Well, it’s a Ford coupé, ‘32 model, and the one that drove up was, too. I wouldn’t be able to swear it’s the very same car, though, if I hadn’t also took down the license-number. And this picture here shows the same license-plate.
Q. You noted down the license-plate number, Mr. Collins? Why did you do that? A. Because there was something phony-looking about the woman that drove it. I mean the Ford. I mean the woman was funny. She acted like she was scared of something. And then she was wearing a veil that hid her whole face. You don’t see veils these days, I mean veils like that. It all looked so screwy to me I thought maybe I’d better not take any chances, so I took down her plate-number.
Q. Tell the jury what happened when this veiled woman drove up. A. Well, sir, I come running out of my office and I says to her: “Gas?” She nods her head. I says: “How many?” And so forth. So I pumped five gallons of gas into her.
THE COURT. The Court will tolerate no demonstrations of this disgraceful sort. There is no occasion for this unseemly laughter. Bailiff, eject any of the people who disturb the orderly conduct of this proceeding. Go on, Mr. Prosecutor.
Q. And what happened after you poured five gallons of gasoline into the Ford’s tank, Mr. Collins? A. She gave me a one-dollar bill and drove off without waiting for her change. Oh, yes, that’s another thing that made me remember her.
Q. In what direction did she drive off? A. Towards that shack near the Marine Terminal where the murder was.
Mr. ANGELL. I object, Your Honor, to the answer as suggesting an unwarrantable conclusion. According to the witness’s own testimony, his gasoline station lies three miles from the Marine Terminal. Besides, the form of the answer is clearly prejudicial.
Mr. POLLINGER. If the car drove off in the direction of Trenton, Your Honor, it also drove off in the direction of the scene of the crime. We’re dealing with directions, not destinations.
THE COURT. That is true, Mr. Pollinger, but there is an implication nevertheless. Strike the answer out.
Q. Did the Ford drive off in the direction of Camden? A. No, sir, it came from Camden way. It drove off toward Trenton.
Q. Mr. Collins, I show you State Exhibit 43. Do you know what it is? A. Yes, sir, that’s the woman’s veil found in the abandoned car in Philly which—
Mr. ANGELL. Object—
Mr. POLLINGER. Don’t expand, Mr. Collins. I want answers only to the extent of your personal knowledge and observation. Very well, it’s a woman’s veil. Do you recognize this veil? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Where did you see it last? A. On the face of the woman who drove up to my gas station that night.
Q. Will the defendant please rise? Now Mr. Collins, take a good look at the defendant. Have you ever seen her before? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Where, when, under what circumstances? A. She was the one who drove up in the Ford that night for gas.
BAILIFF. Order in the court. Order in the court.
Mr. POLLINGER. Your witness, Counsel.
Q. Mr. Collins, since you have maintained your gasoline filling-station at that single location on Lamberton Road for nine years, is it fair for me to assume that you have a busy station?
Mr. POLLINGER. I object, Your Honor.
Q. Never mind. Do you do a good business, Mr. Collins? A. It’s all right.
Q. Good enough for you to remain in business there for nine years? A. Yes.
Q. Thousands of cars stop at your station annually for gasoline and other automobile services? A. Well, I suppose so.
Q. You suppose so. How many cars would you say? Just an estimate. How many cars would you say have stopped for gas at your place in the past month? A. That’s hard to say. I don’t keep no records of that.