“On the contrary, it is very good.”
“No further questions,” Mason said.
“That’s all,” Elliott said. “I will wish to examine this witness upon another phase of the case later on in the trial.”
“We object to the testimony being put on piecemeal,” Mason said. “We feel that this witness should be interrogated at this time as to all the evidence which counsel intends to develop.”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Elliott said, “it would mean putting on our case out of order. We have to introduce an autopsy report, we have to introduce photographs.”
“Well,” Judge DeWitt said, “if counsel for the defense wants the evidence to be presented now, I think it would save time, at least, to ask the questions of this witness now.”
“Very well,” Elliott said. “Did you deliver an envelope to anyone who asked for messages in the name of Gerald Boswell on the evening of October sixteenth?”
“I did.”
“To whom?”
“To the defendant.”
“The gentleman sitting there next to Mr. Perry Mason?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What time was that?”
“That was sometime around six-thirty. I can’t give you the exact time.”
“And did you have any further conversation with the defendant?”
“Not with the defendant. With his attorney and a gentleman with him, whom I have since learned was Paul Drake, a detective.”
“And what was that conversation?”
“This detective, Mr. Drake, asked for messages for Gerald Boswell. I asked him for some identification and he showed me the key to Room 729. Then he went to the elevator.”
“Carrying that key with him?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know whether he went to Room 729?”
“Only by what he said afterward. He told me that he had.”
“In the presence of Mr. Mason?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mason said, “If the Court please, I am not objecting and because it is embarrassing for counsel to be a witness, I will stipulate that Mr. Drake and I went to the Redfern Hotel, that Mr. Drake asked for messages for Gerald Boswell, that he was told there were no messages, that he was asked for identification, that he produced a key to Room 729, that he went up to Room 729, that we discovered the body of this young woman on the bed, and that we notified police.”
“Very well, that will simplify matters,” Elliott said.
“Just a moment,” Mason said. “I have a couple of questions on cross-examination.
“When Mr. Drake first asked for messages for Mr. Boswell, Mr. King, you told him that you had delivered a message to him earlier in the afternoon, didn’t you?”
“Well, I was a little suspicious. I—”
“I’m not asking you whether you were suspicious. I’m asking you what you told him.”
“Yes, I believe I told him something to that effect.”
“Yet now you say it was the defendant to whom you delivered that message?”
“Well, I’ve had a chance to think it over.”
“And to look at the defendant?”
“Yes.”
“Yet on the sixteenth of October, when the occasion was more fresh in your mind, you stated to Paul Drake, the detective, that you had delivered the message to him. Did you not?”
“I may have said so, yes.”
“And if you could have made a mistake in confusing Paul Drake with the defendant, isn’t it possible that you could have made a mistake in regard to Rose Calvert and that it was some other young woman who rented the suite, 729?”
“No, sir. I am positive of my identification and I am not going to let you confuse me.”
“Thank you,” Mason said. “That’s all!”
“Call Dr. K. C. Malone,” Elliott said.
Dr. Malone came forward, was sworn, identified himself as Dr. Klenton C. Malone, an autopsy surgeon who had performed the autopsy on the body of Rose Calvert.
He testified as to the single bullet wound, the direction and nature of the wound, the fact that death was instantaneous, that there had been little external bleeding, that the wound was a contact wound, meaning that the gun had been held directly against the body when the wound was inflicted.
“When was the time of death?” Elliott asked.
“I fixed the time of death at between six-fifteen and seven o’clock on the evening of October sixteenth.”
“Did you recover the fatal bullet?”
“I did.”
“And what did you do with it?”
“I turned it over to Alexander Redfield, the ballistics expert.”
“He was present when the autopsy was performed?”
“He was.”
“Cross-examine,” Elliott said to Perry Mason.
“When did you perform the autopsy?” Mason asked.
“It was the morning of the seventeenth.”
“What time on the morning of the seventeenth?”
“About seven o’clock in the morning.”
“Is that the time you usually go to work, Doctor?”
“No, sir. I was called to perform this autopsy by the district attorney. I was asked to perform it as early as possible.”
“When were you called?”
“About ten o’clock in the evening.”
“Why didn’t you perform the autopsy that night?”
“There was not that much urgency about it. The district attorney wanted to have certain information by nine o’clock in the morning. I started the autopsy so I could give him the information he wanted.”
“Rigor mortis had developed when the body was discovered?”
“I understand it had.”
“When does rigor develop?”
“That is variable, depending upon several factors.”
“Can you give me the approximate times during which rigor develops?” Mason asked.
“That I cannot,” the witness said. “The authorities are in great dispute as to the development of rigor. Persons dying under conditions of excitement or emotion may develop rigor almost immediately. This is also true if death has been preceded by a physical struggle.
“I may state that there were conditions existing in this case which made it appear rigor had developed with considerable rapidity.”
“Did you consider rigor mortis in connection with determining the time of death?”
“I did not. I determined the time of death from the contents of the stomach and intestines.”
“Did you know when the last meal was ingested?”
“I was told that time could be fixed with great certainty. I know that death occurred approximately two hours after the last meal had been ingested.”
“You were told when the meal was ingested?”
“Yes.”
“That was hearsay?”
“It was the best information I was able to get.”
“It was hearsay?”
“Naturally, Mr. Mason, I wasn’t with this young woman when she took her lunch. I had to rely on what was told me.”
“You didn’t consider rigor mortis as an element in fixing the time of death?”
“I did not. There were indications that rigor mortis had set in almost immediately.”
“What about post-mortem lividity?” Mason asked.
“The lividity had apparently just begun to develop. However, Mr. Mason, I didn’t see the body at the time it was found. The deputy coroner made those observations.”
“Now then,” Mason said, “the wound in that body is as consistent with suicide as with murder, isn’t it, Doctor?”
Dr. Malone hesitated, then finally said, “No, sir, it is not.”
“Why?”
“From the position of the wound and the course of the bullet, it would have been virtually impossible for a right-handed woman to have held the weapon in exactly that position. And if the weapon was held in the left hand, the posture would have been cramped and somewhat unnatural. Moreover, Mr. Mason, we made chemical tests on the hands of the decedent to see if there was any indication a weapon had been held in the decedent’s hand. There was none.”