Beware the Curves

witness.”
    He called our expert from Pasadena.
    The expert identified the gun as having been received from us. He had, he admitted, cleaned up the gun so that he could fire a test bullet through it. He had not had access to the fatal bullet, and, therefore, he could not state whether that was the gun from which the fatal bullet had been fired.
    “If you are given an opportunity to consult with the prosecution’s expert and an opportunity to examine the fatal bullet, do you feel that you can reach such a conclusion?” Irvine asked.
    The expert said he thought he could.
    The smiling Irvine suggested that the witness leave the stand and be given an opportunity to make such an examination, that Steven Beardsley, the ballistics expert for the prosecution, would be only too glad to cooperate in every way with an expert of such renowned professional standing.
    And then Irvine asked to recall Cooper Hale to the stand briefly. That did it.
    Cooper Hale testified that, after hearing the shot, he had dashed upstairs, that he had found Endicott lying dead on the floor, that there was a bullet hole in the back of his head, that there was no gun on the bureau in the room.
    “Now then,” Irvine said, ‘let me ask you a few questions about more recent events, Mr. Hale. Where do you five at the present time?”
    Hale gave him his address.
    “And where is that with reference to the estate known as the Whippoorwill, the estate of Karl Carver Endicott, deceased?”
    “It is next door.”
    “In the adjoining house?”
    “Yes.”
    “Directing your attention to the night before the commencement of this trial, did you notice anything unusual taking place at that time in the Endicott residence?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What?”
    “Two persons were digging something up in a hedge of the Endicott home.”
    “Did you have an opportunity to see those persons or recognize them?”
    “Yes. I recognized them by their voices.”
    “Will you tell us what happened?”
    “My house was dark. I had retired. It was well after midnight. I saw the two individuals vaguely out in the hedge. I was curious, so I put on a dark robe and slipped out a side door. I learned from their low-voiced conversation that they were digging something up.”
    “And then what happened?”
    “I heard one of them say, ‘I found it!’ ”
    “Do you know who that person was?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Who?”
    “Donald Lam, a detective employed by the defense.“
    “Had you heard his voice before?”
    “Yes.”
    “You recognized that voice?”
    “I did.”
    “Now then, prior to that time had you seen anyone burying anything near the location of the hedge?“
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Who?”
    “Mrs. Endicott.“
    “You mean Elizabeth Endicott, the widow of Karl Carver Endicott?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What had you seen her burying?”
    “I don’t know what it was. It was something she took from a package. She dug a little hole in the ground, and placed this thing, whatever it was, in that hole, and covered it loosely with earth.”
    “When was that?”
    “It was that same night.”
    “What time?”
    “About an hour before Mr. Lam and Mrs. Cool dug up the gun.”
    “Did you hear them refer to it as a gun?”
    “Yes.”
    “Now with reference to the place you saw this thing being buried, where was that? At what particular spot in the hedge? Can you point it out on the map?”
    The witness pointed to a spot on the map.
    “Now mark that with an ‘X’ and put your initials near it.”
    The witness did so.
    “With reference to the place where you saw this gun being dug up, or rather where you heard the persons at work digging up the weapon, can you identify that?“
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Where was it?”
    “At exactly the same place, as nearly as I can tell,” the witness said.
    Irvine turned to Quinn with a smile. “Cross-examine,” he said.
    Fortunately at that point Quinn had sense enough to direct the Court’s attention to the fact that it was time for the midmorning recess.
    The Court took its recess and Quinn came over to me.
    “It’s all right,” I told him. “Were going to outsmart them yet.”
    “But what the hell happened?”
    “What happened,” I said, “is perfectly obvious. That damn district attorney, with his romantic bearing, his expressive eyes, has completely hypnotized Helen Manning. She’s eating out of his hand. He’s convinced her that he’s her dish. She must have telephoned him as soon as we left her apartment and