“More than one claw torn loose?” Mason asked.
“I’d say just one.”
“And no scratches on the door that weren’t fresh?”
“No, sir. Incidentally, I verified that from the servants, but I presume that wouldn’t be admissible as evidence now.”
“In other words,” Mason said, “you were trying to prove at least to your own satisfaction that there’d been something of a quarrel immediately preceding the shooting. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you did so?”
“Exactly.”
“Then, since we’re dealing in theories, how did the murderer get possession of George Alder’s gun?”
“It must have been lying on the desk … or, perhaps a young woman …”
“Oh, if the Court please,” Claud Gloster protested.
“All this certainly isn’t evidence,” Judge Garey ruled.
“It’s pure speculation. Counsel is asking for it, but it’s not evidence.”
“It’s just like all the rest of the case, Your Honor,” Mason said.
“I think well dispense with discussion, Mr. Mason.”
“Very well, Your Honor.”
“That’s all,” Gloster announced. “Now my next witness will be the sheriff of the county, Leonard C. Keddie.”
Sheriff Keddie, a tall, rawboned, slow-speaking individual, duly sworn, settled himself on the witness stand and gave his name, age, and occupation.
“You were called to the residence of George S. Alder on Alder Island on the night of August third?”
"I was, yes, sir.”
“And what did you find, Sheriff?”
“Well, when I arrived there the others had already been there—they’d been there some little time. I organized the search, and started looking around. We found that a boat was missing from the landing—one of the small boats, and assumed that the murderer might have managed to escape in that. There was a burglar alarm on the wharf, but a person who knew the layout could switch that alarm off from the land side, so that it would be inoperative for about three minutes and then would go on again. I took charge of the phase of the investigation which had for its object the finding of that boat.”
“And did you find it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“Drifting in the bay.”
“Can you point on this map, People’s Exhibit D-twelve, to show approximately where that boat was recovered?”
“Yes, sir, I can. It was right about at this point where I will now make a cross in pencil.”
“Now, were you present when that boat was recovered?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did you notice anything peculiar about that boat?”
“It had been freshly painted, a certain green color.”
“Did you make any investigation of the yacht, the Kathy-Kay, owned by the defendant in this case?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did you notice anything significant on that yacht?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What?”
“A place where some green paint had been rubbed against the side of the yacht.”
“And what did you do with that green paint, if anything?”
“I saw that it was removed and taken to a chemical laboratory for a spectroscopic analysis in comparison with the paint on this light boat which we found drifting in the bay, and which we subsequently identified as having been the property of George S. Alder.”
“What else did you do?” Gloster asked.
“Well,” the sheriff drawled, “thinking that someone who’d jumped in that boat in a hurry might have dropped something—just on the off chance I got a waterglass and started looking around the bottom of the bay about where the little skiff had been tied up.”
“And did you find anything?” Gloster asked, glancing triumphantly.
“Yes, sir.” “What?”
“A woman’s purse.”
“And where is that purse now?”
“I have it with me,” the sheriff said.
“Will you produce it, please?”
The sheriff opened a bag and produced a heavy Manila envelope encrusted with red sealing wax and signatures.
“It’s right here, all sealed up in this envelope.”
“Now, did you make an inventory of the contents of this purse?”
“I did, yes, sir.”
“And where are the articles which were contained in the purse?”
“I have them here, sir, in this second envelope.”
The witness produced another sealed envelope.
“Now, those envelopes appear to be sealed and to have various signatures on them?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are those signatures?”
“I signed my name on the envelope when the purse was sealed inside the envelope. The other officers who were there did likewise.”
“And the contents of the purse?”
“Those were placed in another envelope and these signatures are the signatures of the other witnesses.”
“And your signature is on both envelopes?”
“It is, yes, sir.”
“And are you satisfied that the seals have not been tampered with?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I believe my signature is also on there,” Claud Gloster said, smilingly.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll take a look at that, and Til ask that the envelopes be passed to the jurors so that each juror can observe that the seals have not been tampered with.”
“Any objection?” Judge Garey asked Mason.
“None whatever, Your Honor.”
The envelopes were passed around for the inspection of the jury, then the district attorney said, “I now ask that these envelopes be opened and the various articles be received in evidence. The purse as one exhibit, and the envelope containing the contents as another exhibit”
Mason said, “I would like to interpose an objection, Your Honor, and would like the privilege of cross-examining the witness concerning the two exhibits in connection with my objection.”
“Very well.”
Mason faced the sheriff and said, “By using a waterglass, you saw this woman’s purse lying on the bottom of the bay?”
“Yes, sir, aided by the beam of a flashlight.”
“Sand or muddy bottom?”
“Sandy at that point. A white sand. The purse showed up very plainly.”
“Exactly,” Mason said. “And that purse was lying where you could see it with a waterglass while you were lying face down on the little landing wharf?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The purse was then very close to the wharf?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where anyone could have dropped it while standing on the wharf?”
“Where a woman would most naturally have dropped it in jumping from the wharf to a boat.”
Mason said, “Just answer my question, if you will, please, Sheriff. The purse was lying on the bottom where it could have been dropped by a person standing on the wharf?”
“Well, I suppose so, yes, but in that event a woman would certainly know she had dropped the purse and …”
“Exactly,” Mason interrupted. “I see that you’re quite anxious to make your point, Sheriff, so well concede it. But the fact remains that the purse could quite readily have been dropped by someone standing on the wharf.”
“Well, it could have been, yes.”
“Now, you saw this purse lying on the bottom, and then what did you do?”
“I recovered it”
“How?”
“By going in after it.”
“How deep was the water?”
“Oh, I would say six or seven feet.”
“And who went in after it?”
“One of my deputies.”
“Oh,” Mason said, smiling, “you discovered the purse and then sent one of your deputies in after it.”
“I have a deputy who’s a very good swimmer.”