“Miss Street stated that she believed Mr. Mason had telephoned to make reservations for them, and the clerk said he had. She registered for both herself and Miss Burbank, using the initials of Miss Burbank, rather than her first name, and not prefacing it with either Miss or Mrs.”
“And then what?”
“Then Miss Street took from her purse an envelope addressed to Mr. Perry Mason, and started to hand it to the clerk, stating that Mr. Mason would call for it.”
“And then what?”
“Then I stepped forward and advised them that the district attorney wanted to see them, or that they were wanted at Headquarters or something to that effect.”
“And then what?”
“And then I took possession of the envelope.”
“And what did you do?”
“I opened it.”
“And what did you find inside of it?”
“I found a parcel check, one of the numbered slips of pasteboard issued by the checking counter at the Los Angeles Union Terminal.”
“Did you do anything to identify that pasteboard claim check so that you would know it if you saw it again?”
“I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I wrote my name on it.”
“You mean put your own signature on the back of it?”
“Yes.”
Hamilton Burger, with something of a flourish, said, “I show you a piece of pasteboard purporting to be a claim check issued from the Parcel Checking Service at the Los Angeles Terminal, and which contains the name written on the back of it in ink, ‘Arthur St. Claire,’ and ask you if that is your signature.”
“It is, yes, sir.”
“And is this the claim check that was in that envelope?”
“It is.”
“The claim check that Della Street then and there left at the Woodridge Hotel and in connection with which she stated Mr. Mason would call?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This was in an envelope which contained the name of Mr. Perry Mason on the outside?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I show you an envelope addressed in pen and ink handwriting, ‘Mr. Perry Mason, City,’ and ask you if that is the envelope in which this claim check was found.”
“It is.”
“That is the envelope which Miss Della Street handed to the clerk in the Woodridge Hotel at that time?”
“She started to hand it to him. I took it from her just before the clerk took possession of it.”
“And you went to the Los Angeles Terminal with that claim check?”
“I did, yes, sir.”
“And presented it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what did you receive?”
“A package.”
“Did you open that package?”
“Not at the time. I took it to Police Headquarters and it was opened there.”
“But you were present when it was opened?”
“Yes.”
“And what was in it?”
“A pair of shoes.”
“Would you recognize those shoes if you saw them again?”
“I would, yes, sir.”
“Are these the shoes?” Burger asked, producing a pair of shoes.
The witness inspected them. “They are, yes, sir.”
“Did you make any examination of those shoes at that time for the purpose of determining whether there was any foreign substance on them?”
“I did, yes, sir.”
“And what did you find?”
“I found reddish stains which resembled dried blood between the sole of the shoe and the upper.”
“You don’t know whether those stains actually were blood or not?”
The witness said, “I was present at the time when the laboratory expert completed his examination and pronounced...”
“Never mind, never mind,” Burger interrupted with a fine show of impartiality. “Mr. Mason would object that this was hearsay evidence, and we’ll just do everything in a regular and orthodox manner. We’ll call the laboratory expert and let him testify as to what he found. All you can testify to is what you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that’s all you know?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Cross-examine,” Burger said triumphantly.
Mason studied Arthur St. Claire for a few moments. The witness turned to face the defense lawyer with every exterior evidence of affable courtesy, showing an attentive interest in the questions Mason was about to ask.
“You were shadowing Carol Burbank?” Mason asked.
“Yes sir, that’s right.”
“And were you, or were you not alone on that job?”
The witness hesitated. “There was another man with me,” he said at length, and his voice had lost some of its assurance.
“Who was that man?”
“A detective.”
“From the Homicide Squad?”
“From the plain-clothes division.”
“What was his name?”
The witness glanced at Hamilton Burger. Burger said promptly, “I object, Your Honor. Incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial — not proper cross-examination.”
“Overruled,” the judge snapped.
“What was his name?” Mason asked.
“Harvey Teays.”
“And he and you together shadowed the defendant, Carol Burbank, that Sunday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“He was present with you at the Union Terminal?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And where is he now?”
“Why, I don’t know.”
“When did you see him last?”
“I can’t remember that.”
“Now when you say that you don’t know where Mr. Teays is, what do you mean?”
“Exactly what I say. I don’t know where he is.”
“Yes? You mean you don’t know exactly where he is at this particular moment of your own knowledge, don’t you?”
“Well... Well yes, naturally.”
“Do you know whether Teays is still in the employ of the police department?”
“Well, I think he is.”
“Do you know that he is?”
“Not of my own knowledge, no.”
“As a matter of fact,” Mason said, “Mr. Teays left on his vacation, and told you he was going on his vacation, and he told you where he was going, didn’t he?”
St. Claire twisted uneasily in the chair. “Well... I don’t know what anybody tells me. I can only testify about things I know of my own knowledge.”
“But that’s a fact, isn’t it?”
“Objected to as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” Maurice Linton said. “The witness is absolutely right. Counsel has no right to call for hearsay testimony.”
Judge Newark said somewhat irritably, “Your objection comes too late. If you had objected before this witness had stated he didn’t know where Mr. Teays was, there might have been something to the point, but after the witness has stated positively that he doesn’t know where he is, Counsel certainly has a right to show what he meant by that answer, and the means of information that are available to the witness. Moreover, some of this shows possible bias.”
“I don’t see why,” Linton objected.
“It shows the animosity of the witness,” the judge snapped. “It would have been a very simple matter for the witness to have told Counsel that he didn’t know where Mr. Teays was, but did understand that Mr. Teays had left on his vacation. I don’t know the object of this cross-examination, but it’s quite apparent that Counsel is having to drag the information out of this witness. He shouldn’t have to do that on a pertinent fact — not from an officer of the law.”
“Do you know why Mr. Teays left on his vacation?”
“He wanted to get away from the routine of his work, the same way anyone wants to leave on a vacation.”
“Isn’t this rather an unusual time to take a vacation?”