"Well, it wasn't that long. It was- I'll go back to my original statement that it was eight or ten seconds."

"Then you want to change your testimony that it was not thirty seconds?"

"I think the thirty seconds was an estimate of time that you placed on it. 1 said it was longer than ten seconds; that it might have been twenty seconds and you said you would give me thirty seconds to be sure and be fair."

"Yes, yes," Hamilton Burger said, "then your own estimate was twenty seconds?"

"Yes, sir."

"But now you say you think it was less than ten seconds"

"Well, after all, I didn't carry a stopwatch."

"That's right," Hamilton Burger said, "you didn't carry a stopwatch but you did testify to this jury under oath that you thought it was longer than ten seconds; that it might have been twenty seconds."

"Well, yes."

"Now you insist that it was under ten seconds."

"I think it could have been."

"Which was right?" Hamilton Burger asked, his voice taking on an edge, "ten seconds or twenty seconds?"

"I would say nearer ten seconds."

"Now, you picked up this gun?"

"Yes."

"And thought it was yours?"

"Yes."

"What made you think so?"

"Well, I saw it was a Smith and Wesson revolver of exactly the same type I had purchased."

"You saw it was a Smith and Wesson revolver?"

"Yes, sir."

"How could you do that if it was so dark you couldn't see the corpse for a matter of ten or twenty seconds? How in the world could you tell the make of the gun?"

"I had a small pocket flashlight."

"You what?" Hamilton Burger exclaimed, as though the defendant had just admitted to murder.

"I had a small pocket flashlight."

"Well, why in the world didn't you tell us about that?"

"Nobody asked me."

"Oh, you had a pocket flashlight with you and you didn't tell us about it because no one asked you."

"That's right."

"Do you have any other incriminating admissions to make that you have hitherto withheld because nobody has asked you?"

"I don't consider that an incriminating admission."

"You don't!" Hamilton Burger said. "You now admit you had a flashlight, why didn't you use that flashlight when you were looking around?"

"Well, it was in my pocket."

"And you were too lazy to take it out of your pocket?"

"Not too lazy. I saw no need for it."

"But you started searching the ground?"

"Yes."

"For an interval of at least ten seconds?"

"Perhaps that."

"And it never occurred to you to get out the flashlight?"

"Not then."

"Did you subsequently illuminate the body with your flashlight?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was only trying to ascertain whether he was dead."

"Well, well, well," Hamilton Burger said, "you had a flashlight and you weren't sufficiently interested to look at the man's features to see if you knew him?"

"I had never met Rodger Palmer. I had talked with him over the telephone."

"So you assumed the body was that of Rodger Palmer?"

"Yes."

"That was only an assumption on your part?"

"Yes."

"It could have been anyone else?"

"Well, it could have been."

"You weren't curious enough to look with a flashlight?"

"No."

"In other words, you knew the identity of the body, didn't you, Mr. Dutton?"

"No, sir. I tell you I didn't. I only assumed it."

"But as soon as you found the gun, you looked at it with a flashlight?"

"Yes."

"To make sure it was a Smith and Wesson revolver?"

"Yes."

"Did you check the numbers on the gun?"

"I believe I did."

"And noticed that one shell had been fired?"

"Yes."

"And you then realized that you had left fingerprints all over the gun?"

"Yes."

"What did you do about those?"

"I took my handkerchief and wiped the gun thoroughly."

"Oh!" Hamilton Burger said. "You took your handkerchief and wiped the gun thoroughly?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thereby wiping off, not only your own fingerprints, but those of anyone else?"

"Yes, sir, I suppose so."

"And yet you have just assured us that you wouldn't do anything to conceal evidence, oh, no, not you! Why in the world did you wipe the fingerprints of the murderer off that gun?"

"I wanted to remove my own fingerprints."

"Why?"

"I was afraid-I was afraid that it was my gun and I might be connected with the murder."

"So, you had a guilty feeling that you might have been connected with the murder at least as early as six or seven minutes after ten o'clock that night?"

"Well, how would you feel if your gun had been there?"

"How would I feel?" Hamilton Burger said, drawing himself up to his full height. "I would feel that I was a law-abiding citizen and wanted the protection of the police immediately. I would have taken every possible step to have preserved the fingerprints of the murderer on that gun. I would have dashed to the nearest telephone. I would have called the police. I would have said, 'I think this is my gun. I think my fingerprints are on it, but the fingerprints of the murderer should also be on it.' I certainly wouldn't have taken a handkerchief and scrubbed the murderer's fingerprints off the gun, nor would I have stopped at a culvert and thrown the gun under a culvert, nor would I have- But, come, come, I digress, Mr. Dutton, you asked me a question and I answered it. I shouldn't have. I should be the one asking you questions. Now, after you had rubbed the fingerprints off that gun, what did you do?"

"I hurried off the golf course and got in my car."

"No, you didn't," Hamilton Burger said. "Your testimony shows that you waited another fourteen minutes. What were you doing during that fourteen minutes?"

"Well, I was rubbing the gun for one thing."

"Polishing it like mad, I suppose?"

"I polished it vigorously."

"You breathed your breath on it so that the moisture in your breath would condense on the metal and help eliminate the prints?"

"I believe I did blow on it, yes."

"Well, well," Hamilton Burger said, "and all this from a man who wouldn't presume to conceal evidence!"

Hamilton Burger shook his head as though bewildered at such depravity on the part of any human being, turned and started back to his chair. Then, as though actuated by some afterthought, turned back to the witness. "Well, let's ask you a few questions about the trust, Mr. Dutton. You say there was some hundred thousand dollars in the trust when you received it, and, after paying out a hundred thousand, there is approximately two hundred and fifty thousand left?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the Steer Ridge Oil Company stock, you sold that?"

"Yes."

"But the reason you were meeting with this man, Rodger Palmer, was to discuss making a deal with him in connection with Steer Ridge Oil Company proxies?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't understand," Hamilton Burger said. "You had sold the Steer Ridge Oil Company stock?"

"Well, I had some other stock."

"Other stock, Mr. Dutton?"

"Yes."

"Other Steer Ridge Oil Company stock?"

"Yes."

"Well, well, tell us about that, by all means," Burger said.

"I had some stock that I had purchased myself."

"When did you purchase that?"

"The first batch was several weeks earlier, then I increased my holdings to the original amount only a few days before the strike."

"And had been holding this stock?"

"Yes."

"You sold the stock which the trust fund held in the Steer Ridge Oil Company?"

"Yes, sir. I sold that stock."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought it was highly speculative. I didn't think it was a good investment for the trust."

"But it wasn't too highly speculative to be an investment for you, yourself, as an individual?"