“At other times there is just enough propellant to push the bullet through the outer skin and then the bullet does not leave the immediate proximity but is trapped within the clothing of the decedent. It either falls out unnoticed in the vehicle which takes the decedent to the morgue or it is spilled out someplace else in the course of transit. Perhaps it may fall unnoticed to the floor of the autopsy room.”
“You say it can be trapped in the clothes,” Mason said.
“Yes, sir.”
“However, in this case,” Mason said, “the decedent was wearing no clothes which could conceivably have trapped a bullet. Is that right?”
“Generally speaking, that is correct,” Tragg said, “but, of course, numerous other things could have happened to the bullet.”
“What, for instance?”
“The bullet could have just emerged from the skin of the upper left chest of the decedent, fallen to the floor, and been kicked around by some of the first people who were on the scene.”
“Officers?” Mason asked.
Tragg said grimly, “I said the first people who were on the scene.”
“And where would the bullet have been kicked to?”
“It could have been kicked under a bureau or under the bed or it could have been picked up.”
“Why would anyone have picked up a fatal bullet?” Mason asked.
Tragg smiled and said affably, “So that it couldn’t be fitted to the fatal gun.”
“That, of course, is surmise on your part,” Mason said.
“You’re asking for surmises,” Tragg told him. “There is also the possibility that the bullet could have been in the pool of coagulated blood which was on the floor and which was scraped up in its entirety and disposed of. The bullet could also have fallen out on the stretcher on which, the body was taken to the car that went to the morgue Then when the body was slid into the wagon the stretcher could have been handled in such a way that the bullet rolled off and fell to the lawn, and since the lawn was soft and muddy the bullet might have been trampled into the ground.”
Mason said, “Was any search made for the bullet after it appeared that it was not in the body?”
Tragg smiled. “We tore everything to pieces inside that room. We looked in every bureau drawer, we shook out every article of clothing that was hanging in the closet, we went through every inch of wall space. We even looked in the upholstery and at the drapes.”
“You say the drapes. Were they pulled?”
“Yes. The decedent was evidently getting ready to take a bath and was undressing at the time of her death. The drapes were drawn, the windows were closed and locked from the inside.”
“What about the ceiling?” Mason said. “If the gun had been held down on the floor and the course of the bullet ranged upward, the bullet might have penetrated the ceiling.”
“We searched that thoroughly,” Tragg said. “We made a very thorough search. We were unable to find the bullet.”
“So you can’t tell that the gun which you found in the defendant’s automobile was the fatal gun?”
“We can’t prove it absolutely — the way we could have if we had recovered the fatal bullet,” Tragg said; “but we are able to prove it by circumstantial evidence. The vacant space in the cylinder from which a cartridge had been removed, the fact that the gun had recently been fired, the fact that the fatal bullet was evidently a thirty-eight-caliber bullet — all of these are circumstances... significant circumstances.”
Mason said, “You have heard the testimony of the autopsy surgeon that the decedent could hardly have moved after the bullet entered her body, that death was practically instantaneous.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yet there was a gun found underneath the defendant’s body.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The defendant’s own gun.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you in your investigations found how that gun came to be in that position?”
“No, sir; it could have been placed there by someone who took it from a bureau drawer and then pushed it under the body after the decedent met her death.”
“Or conceivably,” Mason said, “the decedent could have been holding it in her hand, pointing it at someone whom she was threatening or someone who had been threatening her, and for the moment had her attention distracted and—”
“And she turned her back,” Tragg supplemented with a grin, “on another person who was holding a thirty-eight-caliber revolver in a threatening position.”
“Exactly,” Mason said.
“I suppose something of that sort is conceivable,” Lieutenant Tragg said, “but I would hardly consider it within the realm of possibility.”
“In this dairy which you recovered,” Mason said, “did you find any significant passages?”
“Lots of them.”
“Anything dealing with the defendant?”
“Yes, there were two entries in which the decedent stated that she had collected from Ellen Adair and that contributions were becoming exceedingly and progressively difficult.”
“That’s all,” Mason said abruptly. “I have no further cross-examination.”
“Call Maxine Edfield to the stand,” Dillon said.
“What is the purpose of this witness?” Judge Elwell asked.
“To show motivation, Your Honor.”
“Very well, I’ll hear this witness,” Judge Elwell said, “but as you yourself pointed out, Mr. Prosecutor, this is just a preliminary hearing for the purpose of determining whether there are reasonable grounds for believing that, first, a crime was committed and, second, the defendant was connected with that crime.
“This is not a hearing before a jury where the prosecution is called upon to prove its case beyond all reasonable doubt; and I may state that, as far as this Court is concerned, the evidence of that diary’s having been removed and mailed in an envelope addressed to the defendant, coupled with the evidence of the gun in the glove compartment of defendant’s car, is sufficient to warrant an order holding the defendant over.”
“I think, if the Court pleases, we would like to either introduce evidence or argue the case,” Mason said.
“I don’t see what there is to argue,” Judge Elwell said. “At this time we aren’t dealing with the credibility of witnesses. The law is that all the testimony of the prosecution is to be taken at its face value for the purpose of this hearing.”
“Am I to be precluded from arguing the case?”
“No, not at all,” Judge Elwell said testily. “I am simply trying to tell you that your argument may not do much good, and I am trying to expedite the hearing. If the deputy prosecutor feels that this witness can show motivation, I will be willing to hear at least some testimony directed to this point.
“Certainly the prosecution doesn’t intend to disclose its entire case at this point — only enough to have an order binding the defendant over for trial in the Supreme Court. You may go ahead, Mr. Prosecutor. Question this witness. What is her name?”
“Maxine Edfield.”
“Very well,” Judge Elwell ruled, “go ahead with your examination.”
Maxine Edfield seemed bursting with a desire to tell her story and, from the first question asked by the prosecutor, launched into a long dissertation.
“Do you,” the prosecutor asked, “know Ellen Adair, the defendant, and, if so, how long have you known her?”
“I know the defendant,” Maxine said. “She is now going by the name of Ellen Adair. When I knew her she was Ellen Calvert, and that is her real name. At that time I was very friendly with her, and she was keeping company with a man by the name of Harmon Haslett, who was the son of Ezekiel Haslett, who was the founder and owner of the Cloverville Spring and Suspension Company.