“That’s right,” Sergeant Holcomb said. “That’s the picture.”
“That picture shows you, shows Mr. Goshen, and shows the photographer who had just taken this first picture. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“All right,” Mason said. “Let’s have these photographs marked for identification as Defendant’s Exhibit One and Defendant’s Exhibit Two.”
The clerk marked the photographs.
“Now, then,” Mason said, “at about that time, there were other photographers taking pictures of the man who ran out of the cabin?”
“You hadn’t run out of the cabin then,” Sergeant Holcomb said. “You can’t trap me that way, Mr. Mason. The photographers all clustered around and took our pictures when I first drove up. Then the flashing of those bulbs made you realize something was wrong. You broke cover and came dashing out of that cabin just like a rabbit breaking cover and running away. When you saw all that gang in front of you, you turned around and scuttled right back into the cabin, but not until Goshen had had plenty of opportunity to identify you.”
“And as that figure came running out, the photographers took pictures of him?”
“That’s right, pictures of you.”
“Holding his hat up?”
“That’s right, holding your hat up.”
“Now, then,” Mason said, “I’ll show you a photograph which I would like to have marked for identification as Defendant’s Exhibit Number Three, and which shows a figure running out from this cabin with a hat held in front of his face.”
“That’s the one,” Sergeant Holcomb said. “That’s a good picture. That shows you running out with a hat up in front of your face.”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “We’ll have that as Defendant’s Exhibit for identification Number Three. Now, I’ll show you Defendant’s Exhibit for identification Number Four, Sergeant Holcomb, and you will notice that that shows the running man, but slightly from a side view. It also shows the photographer who has just taken picture Number Three.”
Holcomb studied the picture, said, “That’s right. That seems to be the way the picture was taken. That’s it, all right.”
“But,” Mason said, “you will notice that in this picture which is marked Number Four for identification, Sergeant, the angle of the camera was a little to one side so that the features of the man are a little more plainly visible than this photograph Number Three.”
“Yes, I guess they are,” Holcomb admitted.
“Now, then,” Mason said, “I’ll show you a photograph, Exhibit Number Five, which shows the running figure with the hat held in front of his face, and also shows the photographers who took pictures in Three and Four.”
“That’s right,” Sergeant Holcomb said mechanically.
“That’s right?”
“That’s right.”
“Better take another look at that picture,” Mason said. “You can see the man’s profile in it quite clearly. Do you think that is my picture, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Holcomb suddenly grabbed at the picture, said, “Wait a minute. I’d better get my glasses on here.” He reached in his pocket, adjusted spectacles, studied the picture, said suddenly, “No, this isn’t you. There’s some sort of flimflam work here! That’s another man!”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “Now, if you will look at the photograph marked for identification as Exhibit Number Two, Sergeant, and look at the man standing with the camera just to the side of your automobile, the man who took picture Number One, just as you were leaning forward, you may recognize the features of that man.”
“Just a minute — just a minute,” Hamilton Burger said. “I want to see those pictures. What’s happening here?”
“Come up and take a look at them,” Mason invited.
Sergeant Holcomb, studying the picture, said suddenly, “That isn’t right. This is fake photography.”
Mason smiled. “What makes you think it’s fake photography, Sergeant?”
“Because that isn’t the way it happened. This is another one of your slick flimflams.”
Mason said, “Better be careful with your accusations, Sergeant. We have six reputable witnesses to testify as to what happened there. Now, do you see any signs on that photograph that indicate it’s a fake photograph?”
“I don’t know enough about photography to tell,” Sergeant Holcomb said.
“Then how do you know it’s a fake?”
“Because it isn’t — it isn’t the way things happened.”
“Oh, yes it is,” Mason said. “Now, as a matter of fact, Sergeant, let’s remember you’re under oath here. When you first drove up to that cabin, photographers came and clustered around the automobile and took a whole series of flashlight pictures of you, didn’t they?”
“I’ve told you they did.”
“And let’s remember our oath, now,” Mason said. “Isn’t it a fact, Sergeant, that the effect of those flashlights blinded your eyes so that you were temporarily incapable of seeing clearly — particularly objects in the semi-darkness on the side of the car?”
“Well, I tell you I wasn’t looking at those objects. I was looking at that house because right at that time the door popped open and... and...”
“Go on,” Mason said, smiling, “and remember you’re under oath, Sergeant, and that there are six reputable witnesses to testify what took place there.”
“Well,” Sergeant Holcomb said lamely, “the door popped open and this running man came out.”
“Holding his hat in front of his face?”
“Yes.”
“So you couldn’t see his face?”
“Well, I...”
“Did you or didn’t you see his face?” Mason asked.
“Well, I didn’t see his face, no.”
“Then how could you tell who he was?”
“Well, I... I thought I recognized him by his walk and the way he ran, and... Well, I’d been told Perry Mason was hiding in that cabin, and...”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “You expected me to run out. Therefore, when a figure ran out and acted as you expected I might act under the circumstances you...”
“Oh, Your Honor, I object to this,” Hamilton Burger said. “This is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. It’s argumentative. It’s not proper cross-examination.”
“Well, well,” Mason said, smiling. “Look who’s objecting now!”
“I think the pictures speak for themselves,” Judge Osborn said.
“Well, if the Court please,” Hamilton Burger announced, “this is manifestly an unfair advantage to take of a witness. It is quite on a par with the trickery for which counsel is noted. It’s...”
“Sure, it’s trickery,” Mason said, “but it’s a trickery which wouldn’t confuse an honest witness. As a matter of fact, Sergeant Holcomb’s eyes were blinded by those flash bulbs just as I expected they’d be. He isn’t frank enough nor honest enough to admit it, but he is sitting here under oath on this witness stand and he’s going to tell the truth or he’s going to be guilty of perjury. There are six witnesses who took these pictures and will identify them. Now, I want to know from Sergeant Holcomb right here and now and on cross-examination whether I was the person who ran out of that cabin, or whether I was the person standing within four feet of his left elbow holding a camera focused on his face and taking a flashlight picture. Now which was it, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Holcomb’s face was a picture of dismay.
“Oh, Your Honor,” Hamilton Burger said, “that’s an unfair question. That...”