'So,' Mason said, 'you knew then that your grandfather was going to execute these documents in the morning, documents which would irrevocably place the bulk of his estate in the hands of the young woman who was living there in the house as Janice Brownley.'
'Yes,' Philip Brownley said slowly.
'So,' Mason went on, 'so far as motive is concerned, you had a motive for murdering your grandfather. In other words, you stood to profit by his death. If he died before those documents were executed, your inheritance would have been one-half of the estate, in the event Janice Brownley was really a granddaughter. And if it could be proved that she was not the granddaughter, your inheritance would have been the entire estate. Is that right?'
Shoemaker jumped to his feet. 'Your Honor,' he shouted, 'I object! The question is argumentative, irrelevant, incompetent and immaterial. It's not proper cross-examination. It calls for a conclusion of the witness upon matters of law.'
'I am asking it,' Mason said, 'only to show bias on the part of the witness.'
'I think,' Judge Knox ruled, 'that the question is argumentative and calls for a conclusion. If you want to prove it, you'll have to do it by asking the witness how much of the conversation was heard, just what was said, and leave the legal effect of it for the Court to determine.'
Mason shrugged his shoulders and said, 'I have no further questions of the witness.'
Shoemaker hesitated as though debating the advisability of asking further questions on re-direct, then shook his head and said, 'The witness is excused. Call Gordon Bixler.'
Gordon Bixler, a bony-faced individual of about forty-five, wearing a gray business suit, took the witness stand and testified that his name was Gordon Bixler; that he was a yachtsman, was the owner of the yacht Resolute; that on the night of the murder he had been on a trip to Catalina in his yacht; that he had returned in a driving rain and had telephoned from the clubhouse for his Filipino boy to meet him with a car; that he had then attended to certain details in connection with the mooring of his yacht and leaving it in condition for the next cruise; that his Filipino boy had not shown up; that he had waited for more than an hour and had heard an automobile in the road near the clubhouse; that he had gone out to investigate, thinking his Filipino boy had become confused, since he had only been at the Yacht Club on one previous occasion; that he had started walking toward the headlights of the automobile whose motor he had heard, and had observed that the car was being driven very slowly; that, while he was watching it, a woman who wore a white rain coat walked out from the side of the road; that the car stopped and the young woman stepped to the running board, and spoke for a few moments to the driver of the car; and thereupon the woman stepped back to the ground and the car ran slowly on down the road and had almost reached the witness when it turned into a side street, over to another road, speeded up, turned and circled back; that it had almost reached its original position when he saw the young woman in the white rain coat step out from the shadows, and jump to the running board of the car; that by this time the witness thought his Filipino boy had had trouble of some sort and thought that he might be able to get the man in the car to give him a lift; that he started walking toward the car and suddenly saw several stabbing flashes and heard the rapid reports of a gun; that he thought there were five shots in all, but there might have been six; that he saw the woman in the white coat jump from the running board and run to the shadows. A Chevrolet automobile, which had been parked in the shadows of a crossroad, roared into motion and swept down the road away from him at high speed. The witness ran to the other automobile. A man's body was lying with the left arm and shoulder and the head hung over the left-hand door of the car. Blood was running from bullet wounds down the outside of the car and collecting in a pool on the left-hand running board. The man was Renwold C. Brownley and was dead. The witness had met Brownley on several occasions, and there was no chance he could be mistaken.
The witness then admitted that he became rattled and confused; that he ran blindly through the rain until he encountered a car driven by some man whom he did not know, but who had later turned out to be Harry Coulter, a private detective; that in company with this detective, the witness searched for the Brownley car and failed to find it that they had telephoned officers, who had finally arrived and taken up the search; that the time, as nearly as he could fix it, when the shooting took place was about two forty-five in the morning, that he had telephoned for officers about ten or fifteen minutes past three o'clock.
Shoemaker turned the witness over to Mason for cross-examination.
'You were badly rattled?' Mason asked.
'I was, yes, sir. It was all so sudden and so unexpected that I became very much confused.'
'Why didn't you get into Brownley's car and drive it and him to the nearest hospital?'
'I just never thought of it, that's all. When I saw this dead man sprawled out with his head and shoulders hanging over the window, and realized it was Renwold Brownley and that he'd been murdered, I became confused.'
'And you were pretty much confused before you recognized Brownley, weren't you? The knowledge that this woman in the white rain coat had fired several shots at close range at the driver of that car had naturally upset you, hadn't it?'
'Yes, sir, it had.'
Mason placed the tips of his fingers together and took his eyes from the witness to stare intently at his fingertips. 'It was raining?' he asked.
'Yes.'
'Raining hard?'
'Well, it wasn't raining quite as hard then as it had been a little while before. There had been a let-up; but it was raining.'
'This was near a yacht club of which you are a member?'
'Yes.'
'There's a fence separating that yacht club from the highway?'
'Yes.'
'No street lights?'
'No.'
'It wasn't moonlight?'
'No, sir.'
'No stars visible?'
'No, sir… I see what you're getting at, Mr. Mason, but there was plenty of light to enable me to see what I've testified to.'
'What was the source of that light?'
'There's a mast in front of the clubhouse of the yacht club and there are flood-lights on this mast to illuminate the moorings and the parking spaces where members keep their cars.'
'And how far were those flood-lights from the place where the crime was committed?' Mason asked.
'Perhaps three or four hundred feet.'
'So that this road was brightly lighted?'
'No, sir. I didn't say that.'
'But it was lighted?'
'There was some light.'
'Enough to enable you to see objects distinctly.'
'Understand, Mr. Mason,' Bixler said with the belligerent manner of one who had been carefully coached to avoid a certain trap, 'this woman wore a white rain coat which made her quite visible after she stepped out of the shadows. The road was dark, all right, and there were deep black shadows, but when the woman stepped to the running board of the car there was enough illumination so I could see her figure quite distinctly. I couldn't see her features and I haven't tried to identify her.'
'Your identification,' Mason asked, 'is due to the fact that she wore a white rain coat. Is that right?'
'Yes.'
'How do you know it was white?'
'I could see it was white.'
'Couldn't it have been a light pink?' Mason asked.
'No.'
'Or a light blue?'
'No.'
Mason suddenly raised his eyes from his fingertips to stare intently at the witness. 'Are you willing to swear,' he asked, 'that it was not a light yellow?'
The witness hesitated, then said, 'No. It wasn't a light yellow.'
'Didn't have any yellow in it?' Mason asked.
'No, sir.'
Mason said slowly, 'You understand, there's a distinction between pure white and a light buff, or a cream color?'
'Yes, sir, of course.'
'And sometimes, even in daylight, it's difficult to distinguish these colors?'
'Not particularly. I know white when I see it. This was a white rain coat.'
'For instance, this sheet of cardboard,' Mason said, whipping an oblong of pasteboard from his pocket, 'is it white or yellow?'
'It's white.'
Mason took another sheet of dead-white cardboard from his pocket, held it up, side by side with the other, and a titter ran through the courtroom.
Bixler said hastily, 'That's my mistake, Mr. Mason. That first piece of cardboard had some yellow coloring in it. It looked white because you were holding it up against your dark suit. But, now I see the white cardboard placed beside it, I can see the difference in color.'
Mason said casually, and after the manner of one who is seeking to help a witness clarify his testimony, 'And if a white sheet had been held back of that rain coat you saw the night of the murder it would have helped you to detect the light yellow tint in the rain coat, just in the same way this white card has enabled you to see the difference between it and the yellow card. Is that right?'
'Yes, sir,' the witness said, then lowered his eyes and said, 'I mean, no, sir. That is, I think it was a white rain coat.'
'But it might have been a light yellow one?' Mason asked, gesturing with the hand which held the two pieces of cardboard so that the witness's eyes shifted to the pieces of cardboard.
Bixler glanced helplessly at the deputy district attorney, at the unsympathetic faces of spectators in the courtroom. He slumped within his clothes as though his self-assurance had been suddenly deflated. 'Yes,' he said, 'it might have been a light yellow rain coat.'
Mason got slowly and impressively to his feet. Staring steadily at the confused witness, he said, 'How did you know Brownley was dead?'
'I could tell by looking at him.'
'You're positive?'
'Yes, sir.'
'But you were badly rattled at the time?'
'Well, yes.'
