Beware the Curves

explain?”
    “Yes.”
    “And didn’t you go out to his house at his request on the date of his death?”
    “Yes.”
    “And,” Quinn shouted, getting to his feet and leveling his finger at her, “didn’t you carry a .38 caliber Colt revolver in your purse that night?”
    “It wasn’t in my purse. It was in my bra.”
    “There is no reason to shout at the witness,” Irvine said in a low voice. “There is no call for all of these dramatics.”
    Judge Lawton seemed completely bewildered. He looked from the suave district attorney to the attorney for the defense and then to the witness on the stand. “Proceed,” he said.
    “And isn’t it a fact that, when you went out there that evening, the decedent, Karl Carver Endicott, your former employer, told you that he was expecting a visitor in the person of Cooper Franklin Hale, and didn’t he ask you to go upstairs and wait up there until after he had been able to get rid of Mr. Hale?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you went upstairs with him?”
    “Yes.”
    “Into a bedroom?”
    “Yes.”
    “And there Mr. Endicott discovered the weapon that you had in your possession?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what did he do with it?”
    “He removed the weapon and chided me for carrying it.”
    “And then what happened?”
    “Then there was a ring at the doorbell, and Mr.
    Endicott told me that that was Mr. Hale and I would have to excuse him.”
    “And then what?”
    “Then he went downstairs and was down there for some fifteen minutes when the bell again rang and Mr. Endicott met the defendant at the front door.”
    “Do you know it was the defendant?”
    “I heard his voice.”
    “You knew the defendant?”
    “Yes.”
    “You knew his voice?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what did Mr. Endicott do?”
    “Took Mr. Ansel... I mean the defendant upstairs and into the den.”
    “And this den adjoined the bedroom where you were waiting?”
    “Yes.”
    “And then what happened?”
    “Mr. Endicott excused himself and entered the bedroom and told me that the situation had become more complicated than he had anticipated and that I had better go home, but that he would get in touch with me later on and arrange for a meeting.”
    “And what did you do?” Quinn asked, his manner showing his complete surprise at what was happening.
    Here was a witness who should have been hysterical, who should have been in tears, who should have been reluctantly making damaging admissions, and she was sitting on the witness stand, cool, calm and collected, answering his questions without the slightest embarrassment. Here was the district attorney, who should have been bordering on panic as he saw his carefully constructed case being shattered to smithereens, and Irvine was standing cool, suave and sardonic, his manner that of one who is patiently putting up with tactics of a minor pettifogging nature simply because he doesn’t want to waste the time of the Court with objections.
    A deputy sheriff tiptoed along the aisle of the courtroom and put a folded piece of paper into my hand. It was a message from our expert in Pasadena. It stated that he had been served with a subpoena duces tecum to appear and bring the gun with him into court.
    I knew then we were sunk. I frantically tried to catch Quinn’s eye before he asked the one last fatal question. “What did you do after that?”
    She said, “I left the house and left the gun lying there on the bureau in the bedroom.”
    “Who was in the bedroom?”
    “The decedent, Karl Endicott.”
    “And where was the defendant?”
    “In the adjoining den.”
    Quinn said, “That’s all,” and sat down. He was like a man who had hurled his weight against a door to smash it open, and found the door unlocked and unlatched.
    District Attorney Irvine smiled benignly. “That is all, Miss Manning. And thank you very much for your frank statement of the facts.”
    The witness started to leave the stand.
    “Oh, just a moment,” Irvine said. “I have one question, and only one question, Miss Manning. Did you make a statement of what you have just testified to the defense in this case?”
    “Yes.”
    “When?”
    “Last night.”
    “To whom was that statement made?”
    “The two detectives employed by the defendant, Donald Lam and Bertha Cool.”
    “Thank you, thank you. That is all,” Irvine said.
    The witness left the stand.
    Irvine said, “Now Your Honor, in view of the testimony of this witness, it becomes necessary for me to call one more