'I didn't read of the murder,' Holbrook said. 'We decided to take a trip and we threw some things together late that night, got three or four hours' sleep and took off at daylight the next morning.'
'Oh, yes,' Hamilton Burger said. 'And how long were you gone, Mr. Holbrook?'
'Three weeks.'
'And you didn't know anything about the murder all the time you were gone?'
'I knew about it but didn't know that it had taken place on the golf links right across from our front porch, so to speak.'
'So you didn't realize the importance of this sound you had heard until some three weeks later?'
'Yes, sir-sometime later.'
'And then you tried to reconstruct in your mind the exact date that you had heard this shot?'
'Yes, sir.''
'And the time you had heard the shot?'
'Yes, sir.'
'After an interval of three weeks?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Three full weeks?'
'Yes, sir.''
'And it could have been while you were listening to the Woodley program, just as you said when I first asked you?'
'Yes, I thought it was the- No, no, wait a minute. The Woodley program comes on at
Hamilton Burger smiled indulgently. 'If the other witnesses fix it as being when the Woodley program was on the air, would you change your testimony once more, Mr. Holbrook, and again say that it was at the time of the Woodley program?'
'Well, I… I thought it was at nine o'clock.'
'You thought it was,' Hamilton Burger said, his manner suddenly stern, and then leaning forward and fixing the witness with a direct gaze. 'You can't swear to it, can you?'
George Holbrook thought for a long moment, then said, 'No, I can't positively swear to it.'
'Thank you,' Hamilton Burger said. 'That's all.'
Hamilton Burger turned away from the witness, glanced at the jury and for a moment a swift grin came over his features. Then he masked his face as though desperately trying to keep his emotions concealed from the jury.
'Very well,' he said, 'that's all.'
Judge Alvarado said, 'I have a matter which has been on the calendar for some time set for this hour and it's a matter I have to take care of. I am going to continue this case until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. During the recess of the Court, the jurors will remember the usual admonition of the Court not to form or express any opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant, and to refrain from discussing the case among yourselves, and particularly not to let anyone discuss it with you. Court is recessed until ten o'clock tomorrow.'
As the spectators started filing out, Dutton leaned toward Mason. 'How did I do,' he asked, '-on the stand?'
Mason, putting papers in his brief case, said, 'About the way I expected.'
'You don't sound too enthusiastic.'
Mason shook his head and said, 'Go ahead and get a night's sleep and try to forget about the case. No one ever knows what a jury is going to do.'
The lawyer nodded to the bailiff and to the officer who was coming forward to take Dutton into custody, managed a reassuring smile for Della Street, then walked out of the courtroom, his shoulders squared, his manner confident, his chin up, his stomach cold.
Chapter Twenty
Back in his office, all of Mason's assurance vanished.
'Well?' Della Street asked.
'Get Paul Drake,' Mason said. 'We've got to do
'What can you do?' Della Street asked.
'We've got to do something,' Mason said. 'We're going to have to think up something.'
'You think it's that bad?'
'I know it's that bad. The idea of Dutton bucketshopping the stocks in the trust fund and deliberately deceiving the beneficiary into believing the trust fund was being exhausted just didn't sit well with that jury.'
Della said, 'Paul Drake's on his way down here now.'
A few moments later, Drake's code knock sounded on the door, and Della opened it to admit the detective.
Drake raised inquiring eyebrows and Della shook her head.
Mason, pacing the floor, was engrossed in thought.
Drake slipped across to the client's chair and seated himself.
Mason said, 'We've got to pull a rabbit out of the hat, Paul.'
Drake nodded.
Mason continued his pacing the floor. 'Something dramatic. Something that will drive home our contention.'
'How does it look?' Drake asked.
'You know how it looks,' Mason said, without changing the tempo of his stride or even glancing at the detective. 'Hamilton Burger has alienated any sympathy the jurors might have had for the defendant. He's mixed up the only witness we had who could give any evidence that would enable us to talk about reasonable doubt.'
'You've licked him so many times in front of a jury,' Paul Drake said, 'that I think you're being unduly pessimistic this time.'
Mason shook his head. 'Usually Hamilton Burger doesn't have a chance to strut his stuff. I get the witness on cross-examination and uncover some point which enables me to prove that the prosecution's theory of the case is erroneous. Before he's ready to rest his case, he doesn't have any case left.
'This time I've had to go ahead and put witnesses on the stand. Burger has had a chance to cross-examine them. The roles have been reversed. He's ripped my witnesses to pieces.'
'Do you think it's true that he has two witnesses who will swear it was at ten o'clock the shot was heard?'
'It has to be true,' Mason said. 'Of course, I'm going to have a chance to cross-examine those witnesses and, believe me, Paul, there's something queer about that.'
'What do you mean?'
'If they had been as positive as he makes them sound, he'd have put them on the witness stand as part of his case in chief. The fact that he's holding them for rebuttal indicates that he didn't intend to use them unless he had to.'
'Do you think he'll just back away from the question now that he's got our witness confused?' Drake asked.
'I won't let him,' Mason said. 'I'm going to insist that he put those two witnesses on the stand and then I'm going to cross-examine them. I may get a break out of it, but I may not. I don't know. All I know is that the way the case looks at present, we've got a defendant who is headed for the gas chamber or for life imprisonment.'
'Any suggestions?' Drake asked.
'I'm thinking of one right now.'
'Such as what?'