“It took you some time after you had lifted these prints to examine them?”
“I worked on them for a good many hours, yes.”
“You found a fingerprint of the defendant — the one that has been introduced as the People’s Exhibit F. P. No. 10 on the handle of the satchel, which has also been introduced in evidence?”
“I did.”
“How do you know you found that fingerprint there?”
“How do I know anything?”
Mason smiled.
Judge Summerville said, “Answer the question.”
“Well, I knew it because I took an envelope, wrote on the outside of it, ‘Fingerprints taken from satchel,’ and I then proceeded to dust the satchel and wherever I found a latent I pulled it off and dropped it into this envelope.”
“And what did you then do with the envelopes?”
“I put them in my brief case.”
“And what did you do with your brief case?”
“I took it home that night.”
“And what did you do with it then?”
“I worked on some of the fingerprints.”
“Did you find F. P. No. 10 that night?”
“No, I didn’t find that until late the next morning.”
“Where were you when you found it?”
“At my office.”
“Did you go directly from your house to your office?”
“I did not.”
“Where did you go?”
“At the request of Lieutenant Tragg, I went out to the residence of James L. Staunton.”
“What did you do there?”
“I took some fingerprints from a fish tank.”
“By the lifting method?”
“By the lifting method.”
Mason said, “And what did you do with those fingerprints?”
“I put them in an envelope marked ‘Prints lifted from fish tank at residence of James L. Staunton.’ ”
“And that envelope was also put in your brief case?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible that you made a mistake and that one of the fingerprints of the defendant which was actually lifted from this tank was placed inadvertently in this envelope labeled ‘Fingerprints taken from satchel’?”
“Don’t be silly,” the witness said scornfully.
“I’m not being silly,” Mason said, “I’m asking you a question.”
“The answer is an unequivocal, absolute, final and emphatic no.”
“Who was present when you were taking these fingerprints?”
“No one except the gentleman who had admitted me.”
“Mr. Staunton?”
“That’s right.”
“How long did it take?”
“I would say not over twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Then you went back to your office?”
“That’s right.”
“And how soon after that did you finish checking the fingerprints and find this exhibit F. P. 10?”
“I would say about three hours afterwards.”
Mason said, “That’s all.”
As the witness left the stand, Mason said, “Now, your Honor, I think I would like to request that recess which the Court has previously suggested might be in order. I would prefer to know the result of the examination of that blank check for fingerprints before I go on with the cross-examination of witnesses.”
“The Court will adjourn until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock,” Judge Summerville said promptly. “And, for the benefit of counsel, it will be noted that the Court has advised the criminologist who is examining the blank check for fingerprints to notify both counsel immediately upon the completion of his examination. Until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
Sally Madison, without the slightest change of her facial expression, said in a low voice to Perry Mason, “Thank you.” Her voice was as calmly impersonal as though she had been expressing her gratitude for the lighting of a cigarette or some similar service. Nor did she wait for the lawyer to make any reply, but instead arose and stood waiting to be escorted from the courtroom.
18
Late afternoon sunlight was throwing somewhat vague shadows from the palm trees on the lawn against the stuccoed side of the residence of Wilfred Dixon when Mason parked his car, walked up the steps to the porch and calmly rang the bell.
Wilfred Dixon opened the door, said rather formally, “Good afternoon, Mr. Mason.”
Mason said, “I’m back.”
“I’m engaged at the moment.”
“I have,” Mason announced, “more chips. I want to sit in the game again.”
“I’ll be glad to accommodate you some time this evening. Perhaps around eight o’clock, Mr. Mason?”
“That,” Mason announced, “won’t be satisfactory. I want to see you now.”
Dixon shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mason.”
Mason said, “The last time I saw you I made a bluff and you called it. This time I’ve got more chips and I think I have better cards.”
“Indeed.”
Mason said, “Thinking back on your conversation, I am impressed by the very skillful way in which you led me to believe that you never for a moment considered buying Faulkner’s interest in the company, but only selling Genevieve’s interest to him.”
“Well?” Dixon asked, acting as though he were on the point of closing the door.
Mason said, “It was a rather clever piece of work, but the only reason you would have had for being interested in the bullet which Carson had concealed in the fish tank would have been because you wanted to have some definite hold on Carson, and the only reason that I can think of for wanting to have such a hold would be either because you or Genevieve had fired the shot, or because you intended to buy out Faulkner, and when you bought him out wanted to have a strangle-hold on Carson so you could freeze him out without his being able to fight back.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Mason, that your reasoning is entirely fallacious. However, I’ll be glad to discuss it with you this evening.”
“And,” Mason said, “so that the deal would look better for income tax purposes, you arranged to give Faulkner a check for twenty-five thousand more than the price that was actually agreed upon and have Faulkner bring you twenty-five thousand dollars in cash.”
Wilfred Dixon’s eyes closed and opened three times, as though they might have been regulated by clockwork. “Come in,” he invited. “Mrs. Genevieve Faulkner is with me at the moment. I saw no reason to disturb her, but perhaps we’d better get this over with once and for all.”
“Perhaps we had,” Mason said.
Mason followed Dixon into the room, shook hands with Genevieve Faulkner, calmly seated himself, lit a cigarette and said, “So, of course, having received the twenty-five thousand dollars from Faulkner in a deal which was completely fraudulent because it had for its primary purpose an attempt to defraud the Collector of Internal Revenue, you inadvertently paid Sally Madison two thousand dollars in cash from the twenty-five thousand which Faulkner had previously delivered to you. Now, that means that you must have seen Faulkner either at his house or at some other place, subsequent to the time Sally Madison left Faulkner’s residence, and before you paid the money over to Sally Madison out here.”
Dixon smiled and shook his head at Genevieve Faulkner. “I don’t know just what he’s driving at, Genevieve,” he said calmly. “Apparently it’s some last-minute theory he’s using to try and get his client acquitted. I thought perhaps you’d better hear it.”
“The man seems to be crazy,” Genevieve Faulkner said.